No matter how many times I rearrange the living room there is a still an empty spot. A spot where Josh’s bed was for several weeks as his health declined. The place where I leaned over and kissed and hugged him often, where we shared life.
I have moved chairs and couches around but the space still is there and so are the memories. Our home continues to be a huge reminder that Josh isn’t here. Often I want to be anywhere but here.
The only way to get rid of this visual reminder is to sell the house, which isn’t the best idea at the moment - or is it?
I miss Josh a lot. Tears happen often on my way to and from work and at home in this place that has so often been a place of comfort. There is comfort still yet great sorrow which is not comfortable.
I continue to process and grieve on, acknowledging that there are just days when I don’t feel better about any of this. Today was the sorrow was thick - like a heavy blanket. It wears me out and does quite make sense. Why I am so tired? Because as I’ve said before, grief is exhausting.
For today, I just rest in this - not trying to rush past it but pausing and feeling it deeply, hoping that in doing so healing will continue.
I know there is hope for tomorrow and joy to be discovered.
Hi! It's Jenn Brown, writing my story that is now slightly different as we enter a season of new grief. On September 30, 2019, my dear husband Josh passed away after battling brain cancer.