Grief is a Bully

Many Faces of Cheri G

I sometimes (often?) have arguments with the ghost of my husband. Perhaps argument is too strong a word, and quite likely it isn’t really him or his ghost, but simply my own delusional mind still trying to make sense of everything.

These disagreements are rarely about anything important, but isn’t that the way most marriages go? You gripe about the clothes that didn’t quite make the hamper. You bicker about who left the front door unlocked. You “discuss” the fact that the gas tank of the car is nearly empty. Or maybe it’s your wallet that’s empty. Yeah, that happens more than the gas tank…

I can almost hear him complaining about the shows I choose to watch on Netflix. Or reprimanding me for leaving my not-quite-empty coffee cup on the counter instead of rinsing it and putting it in the dishwasher, or gently disapproving of the bowl of ice…

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