It seems no matter how great I feel, nor how many strides I've taken since Dennis passed away, there's always that underlying feeling of that big hole in my heart, and it just doesn't get any smaller—let alone close. How long does it take for the healing process to really kick in and work? That's the big unanswered question. I really have been feeling real well lately, other than those times when missing him kicks in, grabs on and won't let go. It's worse than a pit bull getting a hold of you.
I am heading back to Michigan in a couple of weeks to spend time with his family. We're all excited about seeing each other. I managed to get through my visit with them last year, which wasn't easy because his sisters held their memorial for him and it was very heartfelt, though somewhat emotional for me in particular. This will now be the second time I've visited them by myself. It still seems very strange to be going and I won't be accompanied by Dennis. It reminds me of the poem I read at the memorial, which states (paraphrasing now) that "death is nothing at all" and "I am in the next room, very near" yet so far away because it's a totally different dimension where he is compared to where I am. At times I get so tired of missing him that I fantasize about my own passing, just so I can be with him again. How pathetic is that?
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