I am just sitting in bed on a snowy, Saturday morning, relatively content. Coffee in hand, kitty at the foot of the bed, covers pulled up my chin doing my things. Suddenly, FB sends a memory.

This photo of Martin and I at Tremblant skiing and I literally feel like I have been sucker punched, no warning, just punched hard in my heart, my body and every where. Skiing was both of our passions and we even lived at Tremblant for three years so we could ski every day.

This is grief, this is mourning. This is it. This is the loss that rips me apart. this is it staring me in the face.

It just so happens that I am going to Tremblant later next week. I am taking some of his ashes to lay at the summit where our son Robin’s lie. It will be the first time ever there without my love at my side.

So I sit here, I cry, I remember, I breathe. I trust.

I read this yesterday in one of my Grief Books.

By Alan D. Wolfelt PHD

I’m under Reconstruction”

My loss tore me apart, and now I’m under reconstruction.

This reconstruction process is time-consuming and messy. Like any major overhaul, it gets worse before it gets better. It’s wearing and noisy. And it’s not orderly either. I don’t even know what I am going to be like when the project is finished.

But nonetheless, every day I put my hard had on and I get to work.

I think about how true it is. I am under reconstruction. Nearly 40 years with my love and now he lives in my heart not at my side. I can do this. I am doing this. So next week my hard hat will be my ski helmet and I will lay his ashes at the summit with others who love us both at my side, and then you know what? I will ski down that mountain! Skiing is part of my reconstruction.

I am thinking that I want this “reconstruction project to be over”, it is really hard and hurts. I know however that it is impossible to rush it, only way through it, is well actually through it.

I share these words with the sincere wish that it helps anyone who needs to hear it.