In an instant, my world was flipped upside down. Everything that was familiar –my purpose, my place in this world, my faith, even my identity – was suddenly and irrevocably stripped away from me.
Or, perhaps, it was I who had been stripped away from life as I knew it.
I was a leaf that had fallen away from the tree that had sustained my existence, determined who I was. I drifted slowly away from my tree – untethered, ungrounded.
Free floating, carried by the wind, I felt lost and alone in unfamiliar places. I watched my tree – the thing I had been connected to, the thing that brought meaning and life to me – shrink smaller and smaller as I drifted.
But my gaze remained on that which was behind, the thing from which I had become untethered, until it was no longer discernable. No longer familiar.
Perhaps being untethered is not such a bad thing after all.
Writing about widow life, grief, and general random ramblings.
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