Over the Horizon

I believe, I'm not sure, but I believe that is sun peeking over the horizon. Trees just outside my window have the upper sections bathed in a light golden tint. {sigh} One can only hope.

I have a slight headache this morning. I'm not sure why. Had a mild one yesterday, too. I'm still feeling down. Not the blinding depression of two weeks ago but just very sad. It is never far away, just around the next corner. I suppose total escape is not going to be possible. I can laugh for a while, distract myself with writing, chatting, talking on the phone. But laughter doesn't last forever. I can't write all the time. I get tired of the phones.

And I always have to come home, back to reality and such a very empty house. It isn't home anymore. I've always loved my house, warts and all. So many repairs needed. A complete face lift is the only solution. But I've neither the energy or concern to really tackle it.

I've thought about taking some of Jerry's photos down. Not because I don't want to see him anymore. But because I do. Each time I step into the hallway I face two. I sit in my study and he watches from the sidelines. In my bedroom he hangs over my bed. In my living room he smiles into the whole room. Every photo is a family portrait so taking them down means taking down my family. But really, it is just another burial.


People said it gets better. They don't know what that means. They just know that all the people they've seen who've lost someone to death, seem to get up and go about their business. Maybe other people do. I go through a lot of motions. But they don't really mean anything. It's just a way to get through a day without thinking about much except what you are doing at that moment. You don't think back and you don't think forward. You think now. You don't plan.

I suppose we just live with a hope that it will end. That something will fill the hollow spaces. I keep thinking I'll get up and look out to find something bright just over the horizon. Around that corner, something good will step out and wrap me in a warm cloak. I won't be cold. It won't be dark.

I keep hoping so.

I just don't believe.