Changing

It just doesn't get easier.  It changes over time, but it doesn't get better.  As more time passes, I actually miss him more.  I find myself seeing something new that I thin he would like, and I want to tell him.  Then the reality hits and I cry - behind the wheel, in the supermarket - wherever.  I went to get some blood tests drawn, and when I walked into the lab, the radio was playing one of his favorite songs and I cried.

I just turned 50, and my life is nothing like what I imagined or planned.  We planned to grow old together.  We planned to enjoy retirement together.  We were going to be that old couple whose public displays of affection embarrassed all the young people.  We were partners, we were lovers, we were best friends.

I miss him.  I miss his companionship.  I miss laughing with him.  I miss his support and his advice.  I miss his hugs and his voice.  I miss my life with my husband.  Time is not healing these wounds.  Time is just reminding me of the permanence of my loss.