Oh, my dear Friends at CB. You are keeping me breathing. Which, most of the time I do not view as a good thing. I have no reason to get out of bed. Then I think, "I need to check CB" and I get out of bed.
Today I visited his grave. Not a bad thing. Just a thing. I stayed for a couple hours, alternately crying, sitting, staring, and lying with my head next to where his head is 6 feet down.
I had not seen my brother in 9 years. I love my brother, always have. But we talked only on birthdays, and the last few birthdays, we just left messages for each other. So I was surprised when he came. I was extremely thankful, but surprised.
He has called me every night since.
Which shocks me even more than him coming here.
Last night, as I was crying into the phone once again, he said, "You wouldn't be feeling this pain if you hadn't felt the depth of love."
I have to be thankful for what I had.
Many have never had that.
I'm still empty.
I have to try to be thankful. I am thankful for my time with the love of my life. I am thankful that I know beyond any shadow of a doubt that he felt the same way about me.
I keep trying to talk with God. I keep trying. But I'm not hearing anything back. I think of Job. The devil asked God's permission to destroy him. God said he could, but he had to spare his life. I don't understand why God didn't say that to the devil in regards to Kirk. Why, oh, why did he allow his life to be taken?
Is it a test?
I really don't get it.
I'm reading some Grief booklets someone gave me. They seem to imply that in a year or two, I might want to breathe again. Really? And how on earth will I make it a year or two. It has been 12 days and it's felt like an eternity already. I look at the clock and groan. I just want it to be time to go to bed, so I can go to sleep. But sleep eludes me too.
I just want the Lord to come back. Today.