Quiet

I’ve heard it said that women talk a lot more than men.  The opposite was true for my husband and me.  My husband was the most social person I’ve ever known.  He could go to the dump and come back two hours later because of all the people he would run into and just had to speak to each one. Even when we argued he had so much to say, while I took my time, thinking about what I wanted to say.  Sometimes I would leave the house to find the quiet I needed to think.  I’ve struggled with the quiet since my husband died.  He covered up most of it and so the quiet is a reminder he’s gone.  Over the years he’s been gone, there’s been numerous quiet times for my thoughts to go unrestrained down paths I needed to take to heal my grief.  In recent moments of quiet I’ve become more aware of heading towards these same paths that only make me sad and no longer heal, so I choose not to stay in the quiet.  I believe I will someday return as I learn to direct my thoughts towards all things good and wonderful.

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