Hope. Isn't that one of the strongest emotions we have? I know for me it is. I live on it. Have for a very long time. Without it, I have no idea where I would be now. Face down in a ditch most likely with a bottle of wine in a paper bag.
Life has a way of trampling you to the point of despair, with absolutely no way to turn or anyone to go to. But with even the smallest amount of hope, you manage to get up and keep trying, or at least try to pretend to. You can imagine that things will get better, that you could actually wake up in the middle of the night and breath, not panic. That all your hard work and sacrifices matter.
My life right now is, for lack of a better phrase, pretty much crashing in from all sides. Professional, personal, physical, financially, emotional and morally; and all that encompasses.
Basically, I'm a fucking mess.
So, where am I going with this pity party montage of what's wrong in my life? Well, let me tell you.
Something happened to me the other day at the River Park. I was a mess. Rent, bills, the responsibility of others, of me, my leg not responding to my brain; a lovely side affect of shingles. Frustrating as my PT had been going so well. But, I digress.
Having to wait on others decisions to decide if there really is justice, fairness and most of all, a reason to hope.
Sitting in my car, unable to walk the track to the water I sat there crying. Not the soft, gentle kind of crying. No, this was the ugly kind where you can't catch your breath and you don't think the tears or feeling of despair will ever stop. The feeling of being so alone you almost can't breath. If anyone walked by, I only hope they didn't see my absolute breakdown.
I finally stopped crying, calmed down enough to catch my breath and bring my breathing back to normal. My face was a blotchy mess, nose running in such an attractive way were I didn't realize it until I glanced in the rear view mirror. My face. Wrinkles, tear stained, blotchy and snotty. Perfect photo shot for a dating app.
I could have cried again, but instead I laughed.
And then, I opened my windows, took in several large breathes of the beautiful day it was, relaxed and just settled down.
After about five minutes my eyes opened, I sat straight up in the car seat and looked around with almost a panic in my searching.
No one to be seen, anywhere.
My car was enveloped with the scent of Old Spice. The original. My husband sprayed that on his body every day. I still have the little bottle he used. God I love that smell.
How the hell could this scent be in my car, so strong and powerful? I can still smell it. It lasted about ten minutes, during which time I just sat back and took it in. Cryed softly this time. Not believing this was happening. Matt was letting me know that I wasn't alone, he was with me even though not in body, but in spirit.
That was the first time anything like that has happened to me. I felt at peace.
I visited him that day after I left the park. I sat on the small bench in the memorial garden where my husband, sisters and parents ashes are laid to rest. To many gone to soon.
I thanked Matt for showing me he was there for me and letting me know that I wasn't alone.
Moving forward is a bit easier for me now. I have a small group of the most amazing friends anyone could hope for. They keep me grounded, listen to me cry, vent, laugh and sometimes go silent. I love them.
But it's the early mornings and late nights when the loneliness hits the most Devastating loneliness. But now I know he's there, always, even thought I can't feel him, touch him, and hear him tell me everything will be ok like he always did.
I don't know what the future holds. But now I know he's there, by my side and I dont feel so terribly alone.
And that's enough...
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