I am dying from grief, my years are shortened by sadness. Misery has drained my strength. I am wasting away from within. But I am trusting you, O Lord, sayin, "You are my God!" My future is in your hands. Psalm 31:10, 14-15
First I slept on Steve's side of the bed. I found if I left all extra pillows in the bed, it almost seemed he was next to me. Then I moved to the middle of the bed and all the pillows got tossed.
No one sat in Steven's chair at the table. If a visitor didn't know and sat there, he would give them a look that said 'not that chair'. Now I sit there.
Steven would always have to drive. He finally agreed, as his health declined, to let me drive but he wasn't happy about it. His car sits here and I'm going to drive it soon. It would be really bad if I wrecked it right off the get-go. Or would it? Who is going to get mad about it?