I know what you’re thinking, “Is she really going there?”
Yep! I am.
You have to be curious. What is it like to still be madly in love with someone very much gone from this physical world? What is it like to feel married to a dead man?
Here’s my answer, and you can take it or leave it. No matter to me.
I think the better place to start is what it isn’t like. What is it not?
It’s not selfish. It’s recognizing that another person’s wishes and happiness trumps your own when true love is at stake. You no longer live for just you, but you live the life that he couldn’t, too.
It’s not always sad. Sure, the situation as a whole is about as tragic as you can get, but there are so many little moments that bring more joy to my heart than sadness. I have a book of beautiful memories and stories to share, and some days they steep into my mind like a calming cup of Earl Grey tea, filling my soul with warmth and peace.
It’s not about the big things. At the end of the day (and I get to say this as a widow), the little things are what matter most. The trivial parts of mundane life are what I miss more than anything. I can write you a novel on the love I have for Luke and just how beautiful our story was and is, but it wouldn’t be that way without the small details.
I’d give anything to pick up his clothes off the bedroom floor for the 679th time that month, even though the hamper was two feet away and I had already reminded him three minutes ago.
I’d give anything to come downstairs on a Saturday morning, only to discover he had left out not only the full gallon of milk on the countertop, but also a half-eaten frozen pizza still lying on the coffee table from the late night before. I’d give anything to roll my eyes and clean it up anyway. I’d give anything to drive to the store and buy a new gallon of milk, damn well knowing he’d probably leave that one out, too.
I’d also give anything to roll over in bed and feel his arm reach around and pull me in closer.
I’d give anything to hear him practicing the same guitar riff until 2am, just so it was perfect enough for us to debut together the next evening at our gig.
I’d give anything to smell his hair when he’d fall asleep on my lap during one of my “ridiculous” TLC shows.
I’d give anything for any of it, and I could go on and on, but it still wouldn’t do the little things justice.
No matter where life takes me, or who I end up with down the road, the love I have and give for my dead husband will never diminish. In fact, I will love harder and better because he’s not here. That’s all I can ever promise. I will always love at 100%. Life is too short for anything less.
So what’s it like to still be madly in love with your dead husband?
It’s more love and honor than you can ever feel, and let me tell you one last thing: It’s the easiest thing I will ever do.