Prodigal Daughter

So far I've written two short accounts of a devastating time in the life of my family, and certainly in mine. The death of my husband was the most awful thing in my entire life; with the most far reaching negative impact. But this blog is not for dwelling on that or for simply writing of Husband F's unusual and histrionic death - although it will, I hope, help,

It is aimed at my sister widows by putting into words an incredible journey of discovery.

At this time he has been dead for twenty two months. I cannot believe that it is already such a long time. I still study the sunset, a horizon from my kitchen window of eucalyptus trees stark against a sky of gold and pink. Somewhere in that sky is his lost soul; or perhaps he glimmers down from a star. The night sky is remote as the soundless flight of a distant plane coming in to land.

His silence is still unfamiliar. We talked about everything. Now there is silence. I am beginning to accept that, even though I return home from an outing to a quiet house. I make noise, hail my cats, who do not always appreciate the sudden bustle disturbing their nap but I am relentless, holding a soft tortoiseshell head close to my cheek,

This silence is truly deafening. Where once I had a constant dialogue, now I have nothing. I used to believe in God, believed in a compassionate Presence who would deliver us, and heal. But no, nothing was to be; death crept up between my prayers and stole my peace. my faith. I rootle round now in this no-mans-land of broken faith, still angry. I am a Prodigal Daughter who does not want to be found.

But I over-reach. This is not what it's all about. I live without faith, live with the denial of a power I used to believe in. Today I find myself, I find my own energy, my own power. I expect nothing other than what I create, with room for accidental tangents although I do not want them.

I have still, however, to accept that love is what it's all about. The love of my children, their spouses and my grandchildren, my friends and my pets soothes me. Love is all-powerful. The demise of my loyal, faithful, primary love of 39 years left tracks which are not obliterated by his absence. I still walk the path of family, of our identity; I trail through the steps we made together, which lead over the horizon.