Navigating the 'New Normal'

Twenty days.
Twenty gut wrenching, painful days since Laura passed.
She wasn't supposed to die. I tell, sometimes yelling this to her in the middle of the night.
We were together since we were only teens and were allowed 40 years together. We have buried a child together, buried all of our grandparents together. We laid her mother and my father to rest.
We have witnessed the birth and growth of our two beautiful children, one until she was 27 and the other into a strong family man.
We were there for the birth of our one and only grandchild, who was the absolute apple of Laura's eye.
We have been through so many fights that we lost count.
Our bond was especially strong in the last few years.
We have shared in the joy of traveling together on  many occasions. We traveled so well together.
Laura and I launched a business with her mom back in the 90's that grew until we had reached the goals that we had set for the business.
We built her dream house together, along with family and friends.
My love and I have enjoyed financial prosperity and weathered financial storms, always with her reminding me that we were a team-that we could get through anything together.
So how to weather this?
She was my rock and my solitude.
Now she is gone and I am damn near going mad.

Many friends and family members have given me support and advice.
But sometimes, the pain hits again and I lose it.
I'm told that the pain will eventually subside, but I cannot see that now.
I can only see an empty chair. An unfilled coffee cup. An empty bed.
The birds, usually plentiful on our deck this time of year, have all but deserted the place.
It is cold and it is so, so very lonely.

I know that I will survive this.
I'll keep getting up, making the coffee, paying the bills and goung to work each day.
I'll pick up my granddaughter and hold her tight. I'll hug my son like I never have before.
And I'll keep writing.
It helps a little.


I'll leave it at that for now.