For 26 of the 29 years that we were married (we still are, though are separated with divorce pending), my husband was in the military. An infantryman in the Canadian Armed Forces, to be exact. This often meant he was absent from home, for both long and short periods of time.
During these years, I developed habits for while he was away. Little rituals that I guess is just human nature to rely on. Or maybe I'm just weird. Either is possible. And in his civilian job after he retired, was also often away for work, and so the habits continued.
I always sat in his chair at the kitchen table, so I wouldn't have to look across the table and see his empty chair, and the kids wouldn't either.
I slept on his side of the bed. Same reasoning...so I wouldn't be looking at his empty side of the bed. It was also comforting to sleep where he slept, and sit where he had sat.
When the girls were little, we would always sing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" before bed. Except I changed the last lines to "Twinkle, twinkle little star, shine on my Daddy tonight".
I always started some kind of diet or exercise program. It gave me something to focus on, and provided structure.
At night, after the girls were tucked into bed, I would sit with a cup of tea and write to him about our day. There was usually nothing too significant, but just the minutia of what our daily lives were while he was gone. Cute things the girls said or did, etc.
And when I crawled into bed, and turned out the light, I would whisper to myself "Goodnight Michael, I miss you".
So now, that he has moved out, I find myself doing all these same rituals still. The girls and I have yet to sit at the table for a meal. That is just still too painful. We always used to go around to each person at the table and ask what the best part of our day was. I suppose we could certainly use that now, but there's just no way. We usually eat in front of the television together. They are adults so I don't feel guilty, but still, it would be nice to eat at the table again. Maybe one day.
Alone in my room at the end of the day is still the hardest time, next to waking up alone in my room in the morning. And I find myself still whispering "Goodnight Michael, I miss you". I know the man I am missing does not exist anymore, if he ever did except in my head, and yet I can't help it. I am awash in pain and loneliness.
It doesn't help to know I am better off without him. It doesn't help to know that he doesn't love me anymore and there would be no hope even if I forgave him and took him back. It doesn't help to know that I miss a fictional person long gone from my life, though I only just found out.
I guess I need to make some new rituals. I still can't see my future from here. I have no vision for what my life will or should be. There will be no homecoming to end the rituals. He is gone forever to me. I need to start over. I wish I could figure out how to do that, exactly. People say to me that it gets better, that there is a rainbow at the end. I believe them. I have faith that this is true. I just can't see it from here.
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