Our home is my blanket fort. I loved our home before Sara died, and I still love it. It is the perfect blend of her and I. I’ve made some changes since she died, but I know she would approve. When I think about comfort, I think about being at home, with one of Sara’s many blankets, with our boys. Her pink robe that’s still hanging up, our games and books. The tv shows we enjoyed together, our coffee mugs. And snacks, comfort food. Top it all off with a stormy rainy day that carries with it little pressure to be out and about. My phone to allow me to text with friends who get it.
I’m not ready to let go of Sara’s clear presence in our home. I don’t know if I ever will be- we merged our lives so seamlessly, it’s impossible to split out only me from what was us. For now, it brings me comfort – maybe a little pain, but much more comfort. It reminds me that I didn’t imagine those 4 short years when she made my life magical. Sara was here, in our home.
This is my response to a prompt from Megan Devine’s new grief journal, How To Carry What Cannot Be Fixed. If you want to check out other things people have shared to social media prompted by the journal, you can check out the hashtags below (linked to FB, but could also search the same ones on other platforms).
#griefjournal
#griefjournalbookclub
#howtocarrywhatcantbefixed