The Call

 

  I sensed your absence long before the phone rang. The familiar rhythm of your daily life fell silent, replaced by an unsettling void. My customary morning text,  "Good morning beautiful",  remained unacknowledged, lost in the stillness. An ominous intuition clawed at me, insisting you were gone.

  Desperate, I dialed my best friend, my voice trembling with dread. "Something is wrong. He hasn't checked his messages in two days." Her soothing presence usually grounded me, yet the palpable tension gnawed at my insides, intensifying my fear.

  Fifteen agonizing minutes later, the inevitable call came. When your oldest son's name appeared on my screen, I knew. "I'm sorry Janine. Dad's gone. My brother just found him." Ten words. Quiet. Final. The world didn't just shatter- it vanished. 

  In an instant, the room transformed into a cacophony of chaos, the piercing wails erupted from my core, reverberating off the walls. I collapsed to my knee's, guttural cries spilling into the street where friends and family had rushed to my side.

  "I don't know what to do!!!" became my relentless mantra, ricocheting in my mind and spilling from my lips. My loved ones encircled me, their efforts to console my fractured spirit, a futile balm against the searing pain. 

   Discovering your death reframed reality, forcing me to question everything in the moment of profound loss. Even lifting my head, striving to quell the tidal surge of sorrow, felt insurmountable. My mind waged war against acceptance, each breath a reminder of the finality of your absence. 

   The house brimmed with caring souls, their faces a blur as they offered support, I could recall few specifics, only the overwhelming agony that consumed me. 

    You battled addiction, a relentless foe. I loved you fiercely, believing that my unwavering love could conquer your demons. I could not have been more wrong. Loving someone ensnared by addiction means living in perpetual anticipation of  "The Call",  all while clinging to hope. Yet when that moment arrives, preparation crumbles; nothing can brace you for such a shattering reality. No one can truly fathom that depth of grief until they are immersed in it. 

     Each day, I manage to lift my head a fraction higher, the weight on my heart and mind, gradually easing. The haunting memory of "The Call", shifts into a blurred perspective, yet the loss remains a raw wound. 

     Loosing you marked the most tragic juncture of my existence. I navigate this painful journey of crafting a new normal, learning to move forward without your presence. Uncertainty looms large; I grapple with the knowledge that the kids and grand babies need me. Yet, my fractured heart, entwined with endless tears, often leads me astray. 

     That single call altered my life's trajectory irreversibly. Before, there was hope; after, an abyss. The moment I saw your son's name on my screen, my world shifted, sending ripples through everything I knew.

      I will strive to honor you, to keep your spirit alive, perhaps offering solace to others who stand on the precipice of that call, whether they are awaiting, or just receiving it.  

   Written for my one and only HB. Rest in peace my sweet love. 

   Janine