April 30, 2014. As I sit here on this dark morning as the rain clouds hug the tree tops, I look back upon the last year of my life and realize that over the next few hours I will be living the lasts of my firsts. Ben died on April 30, 2013 at 12:30 p.m. One year…….
We are just coming out from under a long, unusually harsh winter here in northern Ohio. As the hyacinths pass their beauty to the tulips anxiously awaiting their chance to steal the show, I realize I’ve spent the last few days thinking about how to pick up the pieces after the big storm. It was hard to motivate myself to get out into my yard as I watched winter turn toward spring, but I spent a few hours last Sunday afternoon picking up branches and twigs, raking those errant leaves from my flower beds and pruning the dead stalks from my perennials and bushes. As I went from one section of my yard to the next loading a wheelbarrow with the debris, I thought about others who were probably doing the same. Doing so serves a dual purpose. We’re left with a sense of accomplishment and also realize that our efforts are pleasing to the eyes of others. If only picking up the pieces of a broken heart were that easy. Pick up the pieces and put on your best face. But it’s not simple like that. I can put on my “best” face, at times, but there’s no way to ever totally clean up this debris, this shrapnel that has been left behind after my heart has been broken. I love and miss Ben with every ounce of my being!