After all this time, there are still days when I don’t know how to live without him. His absence becomes so present it can’t be ignore, so I sit alone and stare, frozen in the silence. Encouragement from friends doesn’t help or thinking of all the good things in my life because these are logical, practical things I know but can’t quite reach my heart. Sometimes I know what brings me to this state and other times I just discover myself there. I believe my husband was so embedded in my life that he’ll be there forever. That’s not a bad thing. I love our great memories and want to share them with my grandchildren so they can know him as best they can. He took up many of the rooms in my life, rooms holding wants and needs. Those rooms were emptied when he left and even though I’ve been able to fill some of those rooms with great, but different, things, empty rooms still remain. When doors to those empty rooms open, that’s when the sadness comes. A reminder of that which is missing, not yet able to be discovered again or filled with something just as good.