Have you ever heard the adage, “Time Heals All Wounds”? Speaking from personal experience, I can say that the passage of time, at least for me, has helped in grieving my husband’s senseless and tragic death.
Jeremy wasn’t just my spouse, he was my soulmate, my best friend, and my pilot through life. For sixteen years, if you saw Jeremy, you saw Penny, and vice versa. There was a time when I became “Jeremy’s Wife” to those who could not remember my name, and it was irritated by that. Not because they called me the nickname of “Jeremy’s Wife” because that’s who I was, but my name is only five letters long. His name is six letters long, but nobody could remember that my name is literally the lowest form of American coin currency. Yet they could recall a name that has one more letter than mine. (The things we get twisted up about when we’re young…lol).
Three years later, I think about my husband every single day, but I don’t talk about him incessantly. My heart still yearns for him, but I don’t continue to wish my boyfriend would morph into my husband. I can still hear his voice comforting me, but it’s not quite as loud as it used to be. I still talk to Jeremy, but he doesn’t always answer right back. I know that one day we’ll be together, but I don’t beg my Lord to take me home every day.
I loved you then. I love you now. I’ll never forget about you. One day I’ll join you in our afterlife home, and our bond will once again be complete. Until then, I’ll always believe this world stinks as I life life without my soulmate.