Style for the W

The fog is continuing to lift with each day that separates the last time I saw my love. With the ascension, there’s been some positives. For two nights back-to-back, George has visited me in my slumber. Last night we kissed.

Today I ventured off into the city to meet with one of my good friends from home. Although I had a fabulous dream, I woke up very distraught and worked up. When I was getting dressed, I decided I wanted to wear one of George’s sweaters today… for the third day in a row. I had been wearing his clothes a lot within the apartment, and just this week I’ve been wearing them out. I’ve decided I don’t care if I’m swimming in his clothes,  and I don’t mind that I have to keep pulling his sleeves towards my elbows, to keep them from swallowing my arms. When I wear his knitted sweaters I feel him and I feel his comfort.

While in the city, my friend took me to this noodle place that George and I had been talking about going to for such a long time, but never ended up going. So I was really excited to try it. Afterwards, I asked if we can go to this clothing store that George and I enjoyed shopping at. While I was there, I bought a pair of pants that George bought me, but I had to return because he got me the wrong size, but today I decided I wanted them after all. Then I bought George a sweater…

My friend who was with me was amazing. I told him I wanted to buy George a sweater, and he smiled and encouraged me to do what I needed to do. If he was passing judgement he did it quietly, but he was an amazing support today. I talked so much about being a widow and what reminds me of George, and he just let me have my rants and memories. It really felt good. That’s the kind of support that I needed, and I don’t think I’ve had in quite awhile.

When I was taking the subway back to my apartment, after I swiped my metro card, I saw George. It sounds crazy, I know. I FELT like a whack, but for a moment I saw George. I did a double take and he was gone, but it was the WEIRDEST THING. I cannot say it enough, it was the weirdest thing, and I kept looking for someone who looked like him, but I didn’t see anyone that fit the bill. I think my mind might be playing tricks, but I have to believe it was him taking care of me. He always promised to take care of me. The weird thing will be when I’m 46 and he’s 46 and as I keep getting older and he just stays the same…


About J.

Fitness professional, fitness & nutrition writer, widowed at 28. Writing about getting through grief through self-care, physical activity, and the ​constant feeling of being uncomfortable.
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