AMEN

People leave.

We leave people.

Friends leave.

We leave friends.

Spouses leave.

We leave spouses.

People leave.

I used to spend a lot of time trying to figure it all out. 

Many times, we know the answers.  When we are the ones who leave, we know the answers.

Where I am now in my life, I know longer try to figure it out.  My reason for that is if people can just disappear without a word then I don’t let them rent space in my head.  They had a reason, and they left.

No big deal. 

I don’t chase people for answers any longer.  I did at one time, but with all that has happened to me over the years the one lesson I learned is that if someone walks away without a word, they never intended to stay.

Yes, people leave.

Amen

We Can Be. Be and Be Better. For They Existed.

Yes, we can be.  Be and be better. For they existed.  This is the last line of a poem Maya Angelou wrote and, in my life, in my wilderness of grief, in my world I can be.  I can also be and be better because Larry existed.

Years ago, I taught myself how to be strong and fiercely independent.  There are people who saw me often at my worst and they would not think of me that way.  They are wrong.  I am strong, and I am resilient, and I can be (fiercely independent).

While we had an amazing partnership of souls in our marriage, we could also stand apart from each other and not implode, we just found it was better together.

Larry was not my rock.  I am my rock.  Yes, fissures would occur and then he would bring his concoction of super glue and mortar, maybe some duct tape, but the actual repair work was mine to do.   He taught me emotional skills; he reinforced things I already knew how to do.  He taught me it was okay to curse and to slam doors. 

The biggest thing he taught me though was how good it felt to be deeply loved unconditionally and how capable I was to always fix my cracks alone.

Larry married a happy woman, and that is why everyday I work at showing him I am still happy. I know he understands that I do still cry.  I cry because I miss him a lot.  Then I see him standing in front of me with a roll of duct tape in his hand and I remember that Larry married a happy woman, and that is how he would want to think of me right now.