Wife
On the day she died my mind was flooded with images of her, mixed up, no order, just chaos taking up space as if to hold back the absence which was beginning to take its own form and which over the next days and weeks would strike me down, not until I was on my knees but well after, grinding my curled up and hopeless body with the gravity it alone controlled until the pain and loss felt as if it was breaking my bones not by snaps, but by a slow ache and giving in to the pressure. In these days I wanted to escape the images, and there were so few ways to help me do this. Even drugs and alcohol only softened the edges, blurred the center, slowed the herky-jerky slides of her living a life she no longer had. We, no longer had. But years have passed now, and those images have changed or disappeared. What used to be a scene has broken into fragments and blips of her on a screen I can't control or manipulate. I feel a crushing guilt about this. I wished her away. I begged her to stop coming. I could not take the pain I should have been able to endure. And now, as time unfolds in front of me, I wonder what will be left of her. Will I be able to see her when I need to, or will she completely retreat into an unbearable blind spot.
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Author's Note
52/250 Theme: Blind Spot
Other stories by Lori Lou Freshwater
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Good piece, Lou. - "just chaos taking up space as if to hold back the absence which was beginning to take its own form..." I like the voice and form in this.
Thank you, Sam. It always means the world to hear from you.
I don't know exactly how I feel about this. I love the writing; it speaks to my deepest fears.
Lovely, haunting.
Lovely, indeed - beautifully rendered.
I like this a whole heck--profoundly moving. The last third is truly gripping and perfectly rendered. I loved "I wished her away" and "I begged her to stop coming." Also, "this unbearable blindspot." Great.
A true rendering of the nuances of loss and the aftermath that keeps on keeping on.
Just read this over at 52/250 and really enjoyed it, Lou. Such an intense and intimate look at grief.
Thank you everyone. We can never truly express grief in words, but I appreciate that you think I was able to at least touch on the essence of it. I very much appreciate you taking the time to read and comment, as always.
ya, this is sad and true. that last sentence: brilliant. really enjoyed this greatly.
Thank you kindly, sir. I always like to hear your thoughts on my work.
..breaking my bones not by snaps, but by a slow ache..good description of this excellent piece.
This felt like a cracked mirror, with each part showing a skewed segment of the looker. Deep sadness in this piece.
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Powerful and sad. *
And that, my friends, is what it's like along the path to recovery. All to familiar.
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Thank you all, very much. Jack, I'm sorry it is familiar.
I appreciate you all reading my sad things - I promise I'll lighten it up next time.
That first sentence is a masterpiece. It's all good, but that opening line . . . *
splendid piece
I loved this when I read it at 52/250 (such an honor to share space with you there) and love it even more on this second and third read (can you say, fourth?) ****
Jane and Beate, thank you so much. Your support means a ton to me.
Robert, it is my honor, and thank you - I'm humbled by your words. Thank you.
best use of herky-jerky I've seen. & love the use of blind spot & the screen imagery
Very nice...
Thank you, Shelagh and James. I'm very grateful for your time and comments.
Lou, this grabbed me in a way few stories can. It presented a situation so real, so disturbing, so sad. Just chaos taking up space, what used to be a scene, giving in to the pressure, I wished her away...all very good lines that lead to more good lines.
Foster, thank you. That means a lot coming from you.
Powerful combination of voice and perspective -- in his grief, your narrator's close rememberings virtually erase the first person in favor of the wife he's lost, almost but not quite shifting this into a third pov piece. Masterfully done.
strong piece, great voice. Unique.
Hi Lou. I'm new to your work and adore this. Thank you.
Your story hits too close to home to actually enjoy but the writing is good.
Julie, thanks teach. ;-)
Meg, thank you, much appreciative of your time and support.
Harley, nice to meet you, thank you, and I look forward to your work as well.
J. Mykell, I'm sorry, truly, but I appreciate you still taking the time to comment.
Meg, I actually have much appreciation. Geez, Lou.
This is a beautiful, powerful piece. If you wanted to, you could, with a conjunction here and a conjunction there, turn it into one long sentence. But either way, it is extremely, extremely fine.
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love how the style suits the subject, here. So well done!
Bill, you're right. No surprise there. Thank you, as always, for your wisdom and your support.
Sara, thank you, like a lot.
So pretty. Love your writing here.
Thank you Jules!
oh this is, as somebody said, very haunting, Lou...thanks for writing it *
Wow! *
Lou, the internal battle displayed here is so real, so sad, and so wonderfully told.
Kathy, Meg, and Matt, thank you thank you for such kind words.