Does it ever end?
These ambushes of the heart …
These attacks of emotion …
These volcanoes of grief …

Does it? Does it stop?
Is there finally a time,
where the winds get calmer,
when days and weeks and months,
go by,
with no emotional breakdown?
Will I ever be at the place,
where I no longer await,
with fear,
the next big mess of sadness,
coming at me,
no warning,
splattering all over my floor?

Do I get to breathe at some point,
In and out,
like normal people,
who aren’t holding their breath,
for the ocean of hopeless,
to Pounce?

Because it seems like it will never end.
Because two hours ago,
I was “okay.”
I was in a good place.

And now my heart is beating
outside my chest,
I’m aching to hold my husband’s hand,
and I’m crawling out of my skin,
just wanting to be anywhere,
except inside my own body.

It suddenly feels like there are bugs,
invading my space,
living in my arms,
and my eyelids,
and my ears,
and I want out.

Is there somewhere else I can go?
Someone else I can be?
Please …
Just for a little while …
so I don’t have to feel this pain
or know this loss

For there are nights,
like tonight,
that I simply cannot fathom
or believe
or comprehend,
even after all this time,
that I have not looked at
or touched
or kissed
or hugged
or laughed with
or spoken to,
or felt
my husband,
in two and a half years.

How is that possible?
That cannot be possible.
But it is,
and here I am,
in this prison.

There is an ache,
that moves inside me.
It is indescribable,
and it chews away,
at my soul.

It hurts so much,
so very much,
that the only thing to do,
is sleep,
and escape,
and hope,
that by morning,
I will have exhausted
my pain,
and made it tired,
so that it could sleep
through the Ambush.

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12 thoughts on “Ambush

  1. Yes. It can all end and be replaced by sweet, comforting, powerful, soothing love. Is it easy? No, and that is why most people do not do the work. Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. The path is through the pain. Right through the pain. That is where love is. That is where he is. That is where the you of you is. Love to you Kelley.

    • But that is what Ive been doing, Tom – feeling the intense and horrible pain – not running from it – feeeling it, and sitting inside of it each time it comes – for two and a half years. When will it finally stop coming??? Ever? I feel like I keep being tricked into thinking that Im “healing”, that Im progressing – and then I get ambushed again out of nowhere by these raw emotions like I just HAVE to be able to hug him or talk to him. Yes, these ambushes definitely happen less often now as time has gone forward, but they are just as intense now as they were 2 years ago. I just hate being inside them, but I know I have to be.

      • I so get that Kelley… My sweet Gerald died the same way as your husband and its been twenty months for me. I too, let the pain engulf me and do not run away from it but feel as you do…..will this longing, this DESPERATE need for his touch, voice, scent ever even slightly abate???? I GET YOU Kelley…..Oh how I wish I didn’t….Peace and Love, Jan

      • It is going to take a long time for it to begin to truly fade I think. Who knows how long. Last year I read an article that said it takes most women roughly 5-7 years to begin to really come to a better place with all of this. Damn. I was floored by that. And it kept rolling around in my brain all the time, still does… reminding me that this is a freaking marathon like none other. I guess I try to accept that, but its not always easy to.

        You are doing better. The ambushes are less… but sitting here today being ambushed myself, i know that in the moment of the pain, you don’t even care if it has become less frequent. All you know is PAIN IS RIGHT NOW AND I HATE IT MAKE IT STOP! =\

        I feel like there will always be times we fight it. Yesterday, and for a few weeks now, I have fought it. Today, I’ve run out of energy and am just accepting defeat and being kind to it. Cuz yes, it – the pain – is a part of us. It’s probably the hardest part of ourselves to be kind to… and also the part that needs kindness the most.

        PS LOOK I COMMENTED!!!! Has hell frozen over!??!!? 😉

  2. Oh how I wish I could take your pain away from a parent when you can’t “fix” it for your hurts so much. May these ambushes lessen for you as more time passes without Don. May today be a better day for you.

    I love you


  3. The answer is “Yes”. That time will come. I wish I could tell you when, but we both know I can’t. But take heart in knowing that you’ve seen it, you’ve felt it, you’ve experienced it. It will come again and stay a bit longer. Then it will come more often, staying longer each time until it finally comes to stay. You’ll still have off days, but they will no longer be the norm.
    Trust me.

  4. Its amazing how beautiful love is and how ugly grief can be. I read once that grief is he price we pay for love. Never knew how true those words were until I lost him. Like you I wonder if there will ever be a day when it will leave me alone.

  5. I’m so with you on these thoughts… is the 6th birthday my Doug has spent in heaven…with me left here to celebrate his life….and the 6th hurts just as much as the 1st one did. Keep writing Kelly, it touches many of us!

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