Forlorn

Mark 10: 8

"And the two will become one flesh.  So they are no longer two, but one flesh."

I miss so much about my Rob but yesterday and today, I am especially missing conversation with him. 

Yesterday something happened that I had to work really hard to not react to.  And it was a simple thing - really not noteworthy to anyone but me.  But it was hard.  In response to a question asked, I spoke.  What I said is irrelevant but it was obvious that what I said did not matter and was maybe not even heard.  It really was not a big deal.  But in that moment, for some reason, it was huge to my heart that the person did not take the interest or the time (1/2 of a minute) to finish hearing my answer.  

And in that moment, I missed my Rob more intensely than I have in a while. 

I so miss him coming home and telling me about his day.

And I so miss having someone to tell about mine.

I miss talking with him about his past, his present, and his future.

And I so miss having that one person who knows and cares about the details of my past, my present, and my future.

I miss listening to him ramble on and on while getting his point across.

And I miss him listening to me ramble on and on while making many points.

(And I even miss the times when I know he wasn't really listening 

but he cared enough about me to try to fake listening).

I miss having someone who remembers the days our children were born, someone who remembers the milestones they have marked, and someone to be with me as they mark new ones. 

I miss having someone I have history with.

I miss having someone with whom I know I have a future.

So as the verse I quoted above says, "the two will become one."  That's the way I felt about all of my life with Rob.  His troubles were my troubles.  My troubles were his troubles.  His joys were my joys.  My joys were his joys.  And even in disagreement, I always felt like we had the same ultimate goals.  

And when his death happened (which in 2 days will be 18 months ago), that "twoness" felt like it was literally ripped from my body, my intellect, and my emotions.  It literally felt like I lost a limb.  

I'm not a math person but this is the way it has added up and has been subtracted for me.

When I married Rob, we went from being separate ones - "two" - to being "one."

But when he died, I did not feel like I went back to being my separate one of "two"
that I was before Rob.

It felt like I was reduced to 1/2 of the "one" we were - only 1/2 was left.

And now, even though on most days I am truly fine, there are some days - like yesterday and today - when it seems as if I'll never feel like a whole "one" again.