In my mind’s eye I am sitting in a room. The wall are painted white, there are big windows and a skylight that takes up a third of the ceiling. The place has so much light coming in and it feels fresh and airy. I am sitting in front of a canvas on an easel. As I look to my left there is an array of colors waiting to be picked up and molded into something spectacular. On the easel I look to see on the shelf there are the finest brushes that money can buy. There is an assortment of brushes in every length, width, and hair types. I have everything in front of me to complete a masterpiece.
I look at the canvas and imagine the one thing that is going to start the brush strokes of color – I am going to answer the question “how do I see my future and what kind of person do I want to be”. Before long the room is not as bright and as time passes the room is dark with only the moonlight from the skylight to illuminate the room. I have been sitting in front of this easel for hours and am still no closer to answering the questions.
The length of view into my future is no longer than one year. And the one year is marked not in 365 days but single days. Meaning – I know I may have a doctor’s appointment on a certain day, a conference call may be scheduled, time away from home spent with family and friends, or just simply having dinner out with the family. These are the small markers in the year but at the end of the year I don’t know what I want to say I accomplished or who I want to be. The days pass by in slow motion yet I can’t tell you what I’ve seen in a given day.
There are mornings I wake up and for a moment there is sadness that I woke up and have yet another day I have to plod through. Just x amount of hours until I can get back into the bed and rest my weary soul. I try to shut down my over active brain and the anxiety it causes. I stare at the pill bottle wondering if tonight is the night I will make it through without medication. Who am I kidding? I reach over for the pill bottle to help me shut down so I can get some rest. To sleep, perchance to dream.
I am still staring at the blank canvas not knowing how to start. Four years ago my canvas was full of color, hopes, and dreams. My canvas was bright with things still yet to come. The blank canvas should be a wonder in hope and dreams and yet all I can see is what could have been, what would have been, and what should have been.
I continue to stare at the blank canvas and I think of Paint It Black by the Rolling Stones. The line of the song that resonates with me is ‘I look inside myself and see my heart is black’. When I lost you I lost color, hopes and dreams of the future.
I miss you My Puppy. Oh how I miss you!!
Journey In Grief 