In darkness, I fumbled around the bedroom that my husband and I had taken over in the last six weeks. My bra in hand, my brain in a dense fog I was unclear what to do with it. The strap hung from my fingers. "Breathe," I reminded myself. My clothes were all laid out for the day; it took me forever to dress as though each article of clothing was foreign. Buttons and zippers impossible. My husband's best friend was coming to pick me up shortly after 4 a.m. taking me to the hospital, as I began my first hour without my husband.
In the aftermath of loss, there are some days that I just don't know what I want other than my husband to return by my side and stay there. Alone the simplest of decisions are major events. Still mundane tasks seem to take forever to execute. My bullet journal has become a tool that helps to alleviate an over-taxed brain. To do lists have become instructions to live day by day. These written reminders have become doable blueprints for living.
One day, I will adjust to a degree to this new life. Despite the everyday challenges, I still look for joy. I look for the blessings even through loss. However, courageous I am, right now I haven't a clue what to ask for, but relief from this pain. Asking isn't all that simple, is it?