Empty Seats

 My husband and I had developed an evening routine many years ago. We would have dinner, clean up, then spend the evening sitting on the front porch. 

Living rural, we have few neighbors of the human variety and they are separated from us by acres of woods. Sitting on our porch we would rarely see a car drive by. We would watch the deer, turkey, squirrels and even the occasional skunk meander by as we talked about our day, “things” we needed to do, family and world events. Our evenings were special. Time devoted to each other. I never tired of hearing my husbands views and opinions. He was an incredibly well read man with uncanny insight into people and what made them “tick.” He was stubborn, very strong willed, but would do anything for those he cared about. We balanced each other. I know I was a better person because of him. 

I don’t spend much time on the front porch anymore. I think I’ve sat out there half a dozen times since Mark died. It’s to hard, so the chairs sit empty. The deer and squirrels unwatched. The silence of the front porch is overwhelming and reminds me of everything I’ve lost and the utter unfairness of life. 

 Now, I sit on the side porch. I’m rarely there alone though. The week following Marks funeral, a male Cardinal started joining me just about every morning when I sat out there. Occasionally, his mate joins us. They never stay long but seeing them brings me a little peace. 

I went to the cemetery today. I was there last in July 4. The day before Rachel and I left on our adventure. I was in tears as I exited the truck at the cemetery and cried the entire visit. Returning home was really hard. I’ve been in the verge of tears, or actually crying, more often than not. I feel overwhelmed and more than a bit beaten down. I’m not strong and I’m certainly not standing. Right now I’m not even crawling. 

A week from today I’m heading to the “ranch.” Marks’ family has their yearly family gathering there. They have been meeting there every summer for 30+ years and family members come from far and wide to be together. We even have a new baby joining us this year. 

Mark made our reservations for the ranch last summer. This year would have been our 15th year going together. We stayed in #19 every year. I don’t want to go. I don’t know how I can be there without him. On top of simply being there, I will also be there at the 3 month anniversary of his passing. Mark’s  family wants me to go. They are grieving as well and hurting too. We’re all still FAMILY and I know I’m loved. I just don’t know that I’m strong enough. My sister is going to the ranch with me. I hope she knows what she’s taking on. I’m a mess. It’s been easy to hide it from a distance from everyone.

When Mark died I was in shock. I still don’t remember a lot of the first two weeks following his death. I know I wasn’t sleeping much and existed in a fog. 

That fog still creeps in from time to time. I find myself simply existing. Doing the things that need to be done and trying to make my way in a world that was shattered and that no longer makes sense. 

I find myself so very angry and I don’t know where to direct it. I see couples together in their 70’s and 80’s. I used to see them and think “how cute, that will be Mark and I in 15 years.” Now I see them and my heart breaks. I feel cheated and angry.  Why did God decide we couldn’t have that together? Why do they deserve to have that time and we didn’t? What do I do with the anger?