Tuesday, August 26, 2008

A Hollow Shell...

The morning after David passed…the sky was rainy and overcast. As if the world mourned the loss of such an amazing man. Honestly, I don’t know how the world continues on without David in it. And to be honest, I don’t know how I do. But that’s the beautiful and horridly painful thing about life. It continues. Life wretchedly moves on.

I feel as if my life stopped that day. Because David was such an integral part of me. When he died, so did a piece of me. Right now it feels like all of me died that day and now I’m just a hollow shell. Going through the motions. But not really living. And my future now seams bleak and lonely…because David and I were always meant to be together. And now that he’s no longer here in a physical form, I feel bereft and alone. I know he watches over us. David always said he would, and you know he always did what he said he was going to do…no matter how unlikely or improbable.

He said he would be there for the rest of our days, watching over and taking care of us. And that he would always be listening if we wanted to talk, although he might not always be able to respond. And he said before he went, that he didn’t understand how this “whole thing worked” but that he would be waiting for me. And I know that he will wait, like he said he would…because honestly we could never go anywhere without each other. And sadly, that is the one thing that gives me comfort right now. That someday we’ll be together again.

I try to be strong. David wanted so much for me to be happy and enjoy the remainder of my days until we could be together again. But I feel I'm a pale shadow against the greatness that was David. I feel that along with with him...left my strength, conviction, will to live and enjoy life. As if all hope left my world along with my best friend.

I know I have Alec. And I adore him. And I will be his mom and love him…because he so desperately needs me. But skye…the woman. She is a sad, shell of what she once was. And I don’t know how I will survive today…tomorrow or the remaining years of my own life. I hope I can find the peace that David so desperately wanted me to. I hope that I will be able to move beyond the pain and loneliness. But in the days following the loss of my soulmate, I can’t comprehend it. The moment we met…we were connected. And although that connection will never go away and we will always be a part of one another….it seems like an eternity until we will be able to be together again. And I not only mourn my love…but I mourn the loss of our future together.

8 Comments:

At August 26, 2008 5:38 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

My dearest friend,

I can't find any words that could even begin to put a dent in your sorrow. Just know that I am here. I love you. And I will sit with you in your pain and offer a safe place and a shoulder to cry on anytime, anywhere, for as long as you need it.

xoxo
Kerri

 
At August 26, 2008 7:51 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Skye,

there are no words that can take away any of the pain you are feeling and I doubt any of us can come close to understanding what you are going through. I truly believe that in time your sorrow will lessen and you will once again be able to smile, laugh and live. You will feel Dave around you and know that he truly is watching over you. Until that day, be patient with yourself and gentle with yourself. Please know I am here and will come running any time, day or night to any where you need me. I will listen, I will sit, I will do whatever you need to help you through. I am here for you and Alec.

A heart full of love and arms full of hugs!

Jodi

 
At August 26, 2008 11:49 PM, Blogger Satine said...

With love, & grief, I send you my deepest sympathy, so that you might be comforted to know that I mourn his light that burned out too.

With hope, and prayer, I send you a butterfly, so that you might one day see the beauty that he left behind in memory: may he make you smile again one day when the time is right.

 
At August 27, 2008 10:20 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Skye,
My heart aches for your loss and for the loneliness you feel. With time, I know you will begin to feel better - feel more like yourself again. As Jodi said, please be patient with yourself as your soul begins to heal. You are so often in my thoughts.

Laura Hill

 
At August 27, 2008 12:19 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Skye:

Do not gauge yourself against "the greatness that is David", for that is a yardstick few can measure up to. Simply be the best Skye Fisher-Hewett you can be. Remember, David recognized you as special when he first met you, and surely your years together haven't made you any less special.

See you Saturday.

 
At August 28, 2008 11:14 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dear Skye,
Know you are held in the embrace of Spirit, as only you can know IT..that you chose to rest in the circle of love and support surrounding you. One day, one moment at a time..healing occurs.
There is no space and time or boundary in this, it simply is.
I pray for comfort and strength for I know when one cannot put their arms around their beloved, it does not feel right..or good..
Your heart remembers David now as the one you loved the best..and that gift is always yours..and it is always returned..as he expresses it from his next experience..eternally.
Love Jeanne

 
At August 29, 2008 1:06 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dear Skye.

My heart goes out to you. Your pain and sorrow are so evident. And, there is reason. You have lost so much, in fact, everyone who knew David has lost so much. And, yet, we must count ourselves lucky to have known him. Such a special person. Even his name is like poetry: David Fisher Hewett, David Fisher Hewett. A bird could be singing that. He has left his mark on all our hearts. I am grateful to have met him and worked with him as he participated in research studies- contributing to society, even as he was handed a daunting diagnosis. He has blessed the lives of many, even those who will come after. God bless you as well.

Joyce Olson(Radiation Research RN)

 
At August 29, 2008 2:39 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

You do not know me nor I you. But my friend blogged about Dave's passing and followed up with a link to your blog.

I have read your blog up till they started talking about low dose radiation that Dave opted out for.

I too, can understand all too well your loss. My Mom passed away from Stage 4 Lung Cancer, that metastasized to her brain. Like Dave, she was 100% herself to the very end. She did go into a coma before passing, but it lasted on 4 days.

After she passed (Jan 31st this year), I replayed the events of the whole weekend over and over again in my head.

And you will go thru a rush of memories, even more so then before Dave's passing.

I see you mentioned weight loss, which I too, had the same. I did eventually gain it back, but not all of it. *Shucks! I was hoping to keep it off, but depression kicked in.*

I know you feel like there is no forward, that everything that made you you, is gone forever, but after time, you will sit back and realize how far you have come and you truly do realize, with time, you do heal, not 100%, but you do enough to function again as normal as possible.

Again, I am so very sorry for your loss. I wanted to let you know that there is someone out there as well, who has experience your loss as almost on the same plateau.

If you ever need someone to talk to, or just need to vent your anger at cancer. My email address is gwemisa@gmail.com

 

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