One woman in my grief support group says she rarely leaves the house. Only goes out when necessary. What is she holding onto? Does she derive comfort from imagining her recently deceased partner padding around the place? Is she luxuriating in the recollection of the sights, smells and sounds of him? Does she fear she might lose that connection if she's gone from the house for too long?
Another woman says she can't stand being at home. Only stays in when necessary. Is the memory of her recently deceased husband padding around the place too painful to bear?
Every one of us women admit we're looking for a sign from our partners, whether we stay at home or not. In the kitchen, at the bookstore or maybe on a hike. Just a signal of some kind so we know they're around. Something to awaken us from our stunned and silent grief.
I know people who believe their beloved occasionally shows up in the form of a bird or flock of birds.
Sometimes after dark I sit on the balcony just outside my living room and watch the hundred or so crows that roost in the courtyard trees. Their silhouettes are like musical notes hanging from the branches. If I let myself, I can almost feel Eddie's presence there among them.
