The Thousand Days

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This has been a rough week. Unrelenting snow and ice, temperatures well below freezing night and day, back in school after many months, and I have been off kilter the whole time. Bothered by everything, pleased by nothing. Too much so to be explained by mere weather, mere homework. Finally, though, just before falling asleep, it came to me. This has been the week of the thousand days, the thousand nights.

A thousand days since Shel died. A thousand days of making my way through life alone, hands outstretched, groping in the dark. A thousand days of picking myself up off the floor and telling myself to get back in the game. A thousand mornings of going out into the world trying to be a good, brave girl. A thousand afternoons of coming home to an ever-empty house.

A thousand days of putting air in my own tires, of trying to figure out how to put things together, and take things apart. A thousand days of talking to myself, singing to myself, cooking for myself. Trying to encourage myself, appreciate myself, dress for myself, tuck myself in and wish myself a good night. A thousand nights of sleeping alone.

A thousand days of wiping my own tears, celebrating my own triumphs. Going to the doctor by myself, going to the hardware store by myself, going to England, France, and Canada by myself, moving to a new town, watching our world spin and wobble, forgetting to mark the days as they come and go. Being hot by myself, cold by myself, happy and unhappy and everything else by myself. Getting older, by myself.

I never would have believed I’d get this far away from him. A thousand days. A thousand nights.

 

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4 Comments on “The Thousand Days”


  1. I’m so sorry, Abra. We all have suffered losses, but yours goes really deep. You and Shel were soulmates, together through tons of challenges with his health, building a strong partnership with good, healthy roots. And now half the stock is gone… like a grapevine that suffers through drought, loses half of itself, and has to recover and produce fruit again.

    People, like plants, endure shock when so much of themselves is ripped apart. Do you keep going? Do you try to send out new tender and vulnerable shoots? Do you try to regrow what was lost? It’s never the same branches… it’s always a replacement for the original.

    But the root stock is still good, and it still reaches far into the ground to bring up all the things your vineyard of a life needs to survive and keep growing. The scars from those dead and pruned branches are still there, and they always will be there. But the vineyard of your life will still produce great fruit.

  2. silcar2013 Says:

    So sad Abra. You and Shel had such a strong relationship, such togetherness that it is difficult to imagine how difficult it has been for you since. Yet you are doing all right things. Relationships like your and Shel’s are rare and precious. I’m so sorry that you are going through this.
    Love and hugs.


  3. Abra, I would so love it if you would call me. I’d really like to talk wth you. 860-227-6685. If you feel like it. It might be good. So hard to reach out, I know especially to someone who knows you so little. But I would be so happy to touch base again. I’m around tonight or all week. Any time, it would be good to talk.

  4. Nancy Says:

    Already a thousand days? It seems like yesterday. If it seems that way to me, how much more so to you, when it was half of your soul that went away? I ache for you.

    I hope you’ll find the balance that lets you live a full life again, even as Shel lives on in your heart.


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