The S Word That Goes Along With The L Word

[MartyT]

The S Word That goes along with the L (Love) Word

by Allison Miller

I'm a stranger in my own body since my husband died. I have no sense of myself as a person, or as a woman. Who is that staring back at me from the mirror? She has short hair that's going gray all of a sudden. She's put on weight (not much but enough that it's unsettling). Her skin looks unhealthy. Yes, I know that I might very well be the only one seeing these changes-others in my life don't seem to. Maybe I only see that because I also see that the sparkle that was always in her eyes isn't there. Those blue eyes he loved so much reflect back pain and uncertainty and loss.

I'm not only mourning the death of my husband; I'm mourning the death of who I was for the last 24 years. Chuck and I always had our separate passions with jobs and friends but our passion for each other ruled above all, especially in the 4 years we spent on the road traveling full time. He loved my spontaneity and sense of fun. I loved teasing him into lightheartedness and silliness. Ours was a very physical relationship; touching, kissing, holding hands and wild and crazy sex and a depth of intimacy that only grew stronger as we drove and adventured around this country.

Why isn't this spoken about more often in the widow/ed community? Why don't we talk about this huge loss that takes place in addition to the death of our husbands or wives? Why don't we talk about the ache of loneliness that comes from the end of not only the emotional intimacy but the tearing loss of the physical? I'm sure that there must be others who think about it-I can't possibly be the only one. Making love. Having sex. Flirting with each other. Having fun. All of the laughter and the teasing that is a cornerstone to a healthy relationship. Read on here ...