it happens every night. i go to sleep and the world doesn't end. the next day comes, time marches on, and i have to get up and live. his birthday came and went. i celebrated our wedding anniversary alone. our daughter got married and he didn't get to walk her down the aisle. he couldn't be there to protect me from my ex-husband who gloated over my silent grief and seeming vulnerability; at least until his eyes met my son's. my son has a wonderful way with the weapon called shame. my son has transcended his role. he can also be my protector. it is a role i had hoped and prayed was years away, but death takes on it's own schedule and i am left without my beloved Dragon. i am so proud of my son.

i've noticed this common thread among the widows and widowers i've met in the group sharing and on the grief blogs i've read. the passing of time is the second horror mourners face. the death has happened. nothing could stand in it's way. the funeral has passed. had to have it. nothing could stop it. friends and family check in a lot at first, then less often, until it is just the left behind and life. as in my case, the death of my Dragon has left me with only my two adult children to check in on me. and now another widow who is so close to the timeline i face day after day. we speak almost everyday. she cries and i am brave and strong for her. i fall apart and she is there for me. talk about the blind leading the blind.

and time passes. nothing stops time.

Halloween is coming and after that...... i can't cope with after that.

i had to go get embroidery floss and i always feel a small level of thrill at the thought of looking at all the colors. i'd love to have one of each, well, two of each but that's not possible. i might as well dream of a castle. actually i dream of living in a lighthouse but that's another hub. i do dream; wild, magnificent dreams for what are we if we lose that gift? but i was settled and had accepted my short list of colors of floss. a smile touched my lips. i think it might have gotten close to my eyes but then i walked through the doors. i thought i was prepared. i had anticipated the early arrival of snowmen and Santa, trees and ornaments. i didn't anticipate the sudden inability to breathe.

it's going to come whether i can cope with it or not. i really need to start practicing. time is passing and the holidays are coming on a speeding train. i'll start with Halloween.

my Dragon loved Halloween. he said it was the one day he didn't have to put on a mask. funny man. he was always a pirate. he said it was his true nature. he'd do the "arrrrr" sound deep in his throat and it was never hokey. with his beard and that devilish gleam in his eyes, that low rumbling in his throat fit. the man could pull it off.

we'd go to the farm stands. they are all over New England. out of the larger cities, you can't throw a stone for hitting a small orchard that has a farm stand. i love them. i'm going to miss them. the photo is of the one we could walk to. it sits close to Dogtown and isn't large by New England standards but is delightful to see considering all the terminal moraines and granite outcroppings that litter the coastline north of Boston gratis of the last ice age. the owner has enough dirt to maintain some apple trees and a host of other vegetables. these are in greenhouses since he tries for an early start. he also has bees for honey and as a sideline, his daughter brought in a small shop that sells to the tourist crowds with things brought in plus art from the locals. she took in and sold my driftwood sculptures there. i was just getting a foothold in the community with my art - my sculptures, my stained glass, and my textiles.

we were going to have a good, quiet life by the ocean, my Dragon and i. we would go out after storms to find the driftwood and treasures the ocean had thrown back. i would create art from the things abandoned by people and even by Mother Nature. but he died. the only dragons i have are the ones i'm embroidering on his handkerchiefs.

my Dragon always carried a cotton handkerchief. i have all 25 of them. i've washed them over and over across our years and they are soft. they belong to him. they make me think of him. but what to do with 25 handkerchiefs? i'm drawing Dragons and embroidering with all the colors i've always wanted to use but never had a reason to. i'm planning on making a wall hanging. i hope he likes it.

i hope he knows. i guess it's possible. but i hope more and more that he doesn't see me like this. i don't want him to look at me and see the sorrow and longing in my eyes. i don't want him to see me get old without him. he will always be perfect and hauntingly beautiful, if a man can be called beautiful. his scars were so vicious and yet so much a part of him. his years as a Marine Force Recon were, well, let's say they were eventful. his nightmares were proof of that. but his scars were honorable and beautiful. his eyes saw far away places i'd never been and held bad memories i couldn't take away but i could always bring him back to me. and he'd smile. to be captured by the Dragon in one of his smiles was to step into a warm band of sunlight. no, i hope he can't see the shadow i've become. i pray he's happy in Heaven and doesn't know how lonely and sad i am; that he doesn't see me ache for him like i do. i'm trying so hard to "get better" as it's been put, but i am slower, i guess, than others. i'm unconsciously taking my time to "get better."

him finding me was a miracle. i thanked God everyday for him. i told him every day how handsome i think he is, how much i love him, of how very much he meant to me. he knew. he knows. it's me that doesn't know. so much of my family has died. i'm so very alone. my two children are absolutely wonderful at making sure i'm alright. but they want me to be back to myself. they say they know it will take time but a mother knows. i can see it in their eyes. they want their mom back. only i can't come back because half of me is gone. my heart is shattered and i had given so much of it to him. a lot of pieces are just simply missing. i can't talk to them about some things because they are my children however adult they are.

i miss him. time is passing. i got my full moon photos printed. all 9 of them. i took a photo of the full moon the night he died, not knowing that he would die just 5 hours after i took that photo. now i take a photo of each full moon. the man at the photo store said, "very nice moon photos. i can see your passion for the full moon." i didn't tell him it marks the passing of another month since my husband died. this "passion" seems too eccentric to put my face and name to it.

another way i express my loss. another medium for the art of grief.

i saw the weather report this morning. there's a hard freeze warning out tonight for Rockport. wind off the ocean will be chilling.

frost on the pumpkins.

it's almost more than i can bear.  oh, Lord, how i miss my Dragon.