POEM-DNA
They say that every seven years each cell in our body is eventually replaced; from daily skin cells to the enduring ones of organs. I...
“Perhaps for now it can be enough to simply marvel at the mystery of how a heart so broken can go on beating…”
-Jan Richardson, Blessing for the Brokenhearted
It was just another ordinary Monday morning in August, when my husband collapsed in the hallway of our home from a Pulmonary Embolism. The last words I heard him say were, “I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”
Complete devastation is the only way to describe what I immediately experienced and continued to experience for longer than I thought I could bear. I was traumatized. I was lost. He had been my strong and loving soul mate for 32 years. Now, fifteen minutes after he woke me out of a deep sleep, he was gone; absent from this earth.
Eventually, as I began to wake out of numbness, the only thing I wanted to do was seek out others who felt the same tsunami of sorrow and chaos that kept pummeling my heart. An estate attorney, with whom I was working, Invited me to a widow’s group she led and had for some thirty years after her first husband’s death. So, two months after Craig died, I pulled into the parking lot of an old, stone church and walked slowly toward the big wooden doors. It was a chilly November morning and everything inside me was screaming,
“I don’t want this! I want Craig back! I want our life back!”
All I could think of was something my best friend had said one particularly bad evening, as she looked into my tear-filled eyes: “You want what you can’t have, and what you have, you don’t want” This truth resounded in my heart at that very moment. It took a great mustering of courage to walk beyond those doors.
© Cindy K Steffen 2023