Adrift

 I took this picture of Mark last summer. We took a day at the ranch and went to the beach. Just the two of us. I don’t know why I was moved to take this picture of him, but I’m glad I did. The calm sea and him standing in the foreground is symbolic of my life before his death. Mark sheltered and protected. Life was calm with him and he always stood between me and rough seas. My protector, my champion, my heart. 

While I was at the ranch I had a dream, which I shared with my sister. The dream started with me sitting on a boat. Mark was with me. The sea was calm and I was sitting sheltered in my husbands arms. Suddenly, he was gone and a storm came up. I was alone and fighting to keep the boat afloat. 

This dream was exactly how my life feels. Without Mark my life feels like I’m adrift in the ocean. Some moments the water is calm and other times it’s filled with huge waves and hurricane winds, leaving me holding onto my ships railing for dear life while I’m trying to bail the water out. Using a thimble.

I went to my first grief support group last night. Rough stuff. I sat in the parking lot before it started on the phone with my sister crying. Just getting into the building took every bit of strength I had. I’m committed to attending three meetings. After that I will reevaluate. We were warned that next week will be a tough session. Joy. Makes me want to go even less. 

I’m back in the shop several days each week now. I’m  trying to establish some sort of routine. I’m simply putting one foot in front of the other and stay upright. It’s emotionally exhausting. I miss my husband and the life we had. I want that life back. We deserved to have the retirement we planned for. Together. Now I wonder what the point was and is. Why work to build a life and relationship when it’s stripped from you in a moment? What the hell is the point of building a life and a relationship only to lose it all?