Death and Life: Letters to Heal the Soul
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Death and Life, Letters to Heal the Soul, is a personal reflection by a woman who was unexpectedly and violently widowed at the age of 49. Her life project was destroyed, and she was left alone. She and her husband lived alone, were unable to have children, and their families were more than 1,500 km away. They had a happy and well-constituted ma
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Death and Life - Patricia Romero A.
Death and Life
Letters to Heal the Soul
Patricia Romero A.
All rights reserved. The total or partial reproduction of this work is not allowed, nor its incorporation into a computer system, or its transmission in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright holder is a violation of these rights and may constitute a crime against intellectual property
The content of this work is the responsibility of the author and does not necessarily reflect the views of the publishing house. All texts and images were provided by the author, who is solely responsible for their rights.
Published by Ibukku, LLC
www.ibukku.com
Cover Design: Ángel Flores Guerra Bistrain
Graphic Design: Diana Patricia González Juárez
Copyright © 2023 Patricia Romero A.
ISBN Paperback: 978-1-68574-593-6
ISBN Hardcover: 978-1-68574-595-0
ISBN eBook: 978-1-68574-594-3
Dedication
The light of your eyes is the path I had to walk,
in the unjust sense of life and the just sense of love.
To my beloved husband (Rest In Peace).
My love and gratitude forever.
To the angels who watch over me and guide me.
Wherever you are, I will be eternally grateful for the infinite love you give me.
It’s only a matter of time until we are together again.
Index
Words from the author
Chapter 1
5 years of a long journey
Letter to my father. Life goes on, but without him.
Chapter 2
Navigating through grief. I don’t want to avoid it, I want to face and challenge it
My words at your farewell
Grieving, at home and alone
What will I do with your things?
Without falling asleep. Maybe I don’t want to sleep so that upon waking I realize you’re no longer here.
Nothing changes, the day moves on leaving me behind.
As you were dying, a part of me died too.
Two months and now... What do I do?
Loneliness
My refuge
Did you send me a message?
The Illness: The diagnosis
The Illness: Second Diagnosis
The Illness: Seeking help
The Illness: The sentence
Resuming order and routine
The path to acceptance
Chapter 3
Temperance
5 months and counting
My problem
Highs and lows
On Route 5, destination Iquique
In Iquique, remembering
On the path of healing
I spread my wings – I want to fly!
Prelude to the letter of December 14
I need to hear from you
Saying goodbye
Approaching the first year
Circular time
The first year since your death or year one without you?
The first anniversary
A new beginning
Life prevails
Chapter 4
Casting off anchors. I need to be free.
Free
Peace, you have returned to me
Again in mourning mode?
I’m lost
Birthday
Growing, without you, but for you
New horizons
The half-full glass
Death and life
Absence
Chapter 5
Healing the soul
The second year
Healing slowly
Everything passes
Nostalgic reminiscence
Your mother
My mother
The losses
Chapter 6
Everything flows
Happy and at peace
On the right path
Confusion or fear
Antonio, the light of your eyes
Children
Are you happy?
Antonio, my poem
Summarizing
On my way
The last letter
Epilogue
Words from the author
I’m not quite sure how to describe the time that has passed. It’s been a little over 5 years since my beloved husband Antonio passed away; however, his memory is still very much alive in me. Only now, his memory no longer hurts me. Today, his memory brings me joy and makes me feel happy.
Time seems to travel at a speed greater than my ability to comprehend. I still believe that if I look back, he will be there, in silence, with his music, reading his books, preparing his classes, designing a new piece of furniture, or planning our vacations.
Despite it being 5 years, I still miss him. There are days when I miss his silence, other days I miss his quirks or those elusive kisses he gave me, the hugs I stole from him, or holding his hand when we went for a walk. I miss his singing, his ruby lips, and that smile that lit up his eyes when he gave it to me, conveying all his tenderness. I miss feeling his body next to mine, his scent, and his sweet voice saying: I love you.
After his death, it was a tsunami of emotions that overwhelmed me. Some waves battered me again and again against the ground, and I let them. Somehow, I knew that the only way to recover and start healing my soul was to let the pain invade me, to face it head-on without evading it. I consciously told myself: Here I am, you hurt me and harm me, but I’m not afraid of you.
That’s how I learned that what has the capacity to destroy your life and leave it devastated, if you’re not afraid of it, even though it hurts and causes pain, it doesn’t destroy you. It only makes you stronger, and the sooner you accept it, the faster you heal.
I accepted my reality.
I assumed that up until his death, I had a dream life: a good job, a beautiful house, comforts, travels, and everything I desired within my reach. I had by my side a man who loved me until his last day. He was a good man; noble, brave, and sensible, with a clarity of thought that amazed me. Furthermore, he was a good son and an even better husband.
I had to accept that all of this, in less than a month and a half, vanished, ended, was destroyed, and sadly, in a brutal strike of reality, there was no turning back. Everything, absolutely everything, lay on the ground. Devastated, annihilated. None of what surrounded us, him and me, would be useful, much less sufficient to change the situation.
There’s not a day when his memory isn’t with me. I don’t know what hurt me more, that he was no longer with me or that I was no longer with him. Nor do I know if his absence hurt me more or being left alone, with life in suspense, hanging off the abyss. It’s like an unfinished, failed, unsuccessful project. But I do know that, out of love for him, I decided to move forward with life.
It has been a long journey to transform the pain his memory caused into joy. It wasn’t easy to process, understand, and accept his death. Today, being able to feel at peace, grateful, free, and happy is a blessing.
I understood that the feelings invading and consuming my energy were pain, loss, frustration, distress, abandonment, emptiness, bewilderment, and loneliness. I had to reflect on why these feelings consumed me and why I couldn’t see anything else.
There were many questions I asked myself and years of necessary loneliness to find the answers hidden in my heart and my deepest fears. Because the answers could only be found within me, not outside; not by blaming fate, the doctors, or others.
I discovered that his death broke me and left me in absolute defenselessness. It took away my peace and the orderly, comfortable, and resolved life I had.
It checkmated me.
It forcefully pulled me out of my comfort zone, from a place where I was comfortable and didn’t need to make an effort to stay there, because I already had everything I needed. I had a good life, a partner and husband who loved me and whom I loved, and we made each other happy. We had a healthy and honest relationship. I had it all.
I had to discover that what made me unhappy wasn’t his death or the loss of the man I loved, but rather the loss of my resolved life. My problem wasn’t that Antonio died, and please don’t misunderstand me, because if there was a price for him to still be with me, I would have paid it, even if that price had been my own life. My problem was that I was left alone with my life plan back to zero, almost at 50 years old; when I no longer had the desire to start everything all over again from scratch. My problem was that I still loved him even though he was dead. The problem was me.
I decided to face my pains head-on, to face loneliness and life as the strong and brave woman I want to be. I decided to confront my biggest fears and, out of love for him, to move forward with my head held high, knowing that every new conquest will be inspired by the love he left me, by the love that continues in me, and because from wherever he is, he continues to take care of me, protect me, and love me.
I decided to be happy and feel grateful for life again. I decided to start remembering my beloved Antonio for all the things about him that