Waking up on my 1/4 of the bed

Something shifted as I woke up this morning. I was at the edge of the bed, almost falling off, new since Glenn died. My quarter of the bed. What was different this morning was that this hanging out at the edge of the bed, like trying to slip away from my old life, suddenly felt like my new normal. It’s as if I finally transitioned in my sleep into this new life. The sense of almost falling, barely hanging on, slipping away has become what I recognize now. I no longer feel the need to look over to the other side of the bed, to let my brain acknowledge that Glenn is gone. I already know it, I don’t like it, I never will but I have slid away to the other side and live in this new space of unsteadiness, uneasiness, on the edge without the ability to go back to the comfort of the middle of our bed. Perhaps someday I will find myself waking up in the middle of the bed, outstretched and relaxed, ready for whatever life brings me that day or perhaps those mornings are gone forever. For now , today , I am okay with living in the space that allows me to wake up on my quarter of the bed. It may not be comfortable but it is real, and it is growth. As we all know there is no comfort in growth. So today I acknowledge where I have been, the days when I woke to a full comfortable bed, my life as Glenn’s wife. I also take ownership of where I am, the space where Glenn no longer lives, but where I must stay for a while anyway, my uneasy yet enough quarter of the bed.