Grief: Living With Silence

The Silence After Loss

One of the hardest things for me since my husband died is the silence. There is the obvious silence. When someone dies they don’t talk to you with their voice any more. You can’t call them on the phone. But you can watch videos of them or listen to recordings. You can speak to them and hear or feel a response but it’s a different kind of response than one from a living human being. It’s not the same.

I miss the sound of Artie’s voice whispering in my ear. The way he was singing to me. I miss him yelling at me during a fight. I even miss the sound of a sneeze or a cough or a groan.

The Everyday Sounds That Disappear

There are other sounds. I miss the sound of the water running when he was taking a shower or brushing his teeth. The sound of his feet coming downstairs from his man cave. I miss the unidentified rustling moving around sounds you hear when someone is in the house with you. The sound of the door opening and closing. I miss him calling my name. I especially miss him saying, “I love you.”

The rattling of dishes when he was getting something to eat, or the beep of the microwave as he made tea, is gone now. So is his side of the conversation. When I write something, I don’t know what he thinks of it. When I hear a funny joke, I can’t tell if he would laugh. His laughter itself is something I ache for. Even the sound of his television set, which I was always yelling at him to turn down, has fallen silent. The music he would play, the rat-a-tat-tat he’d make as if drumming on an invisible surface — all of it is missing. Even a kiss and a hug carry their own sound, and I long for those too.

Missing Breath and Heartbeat

I miss his snoring. What I especially miss is not hearing his breath and his heart beat. I have stuffed animals and they are very cozy but they don’t breathe or have a beating heart. How strange that the sound of someone’s breathing or their heart beat should stop. Forever.

Listening Beyond Silence

I do listen for and hear his spirit. I don’t know how to describe it. It is like a thought in my brain that has come from outside of me. Am I imagining it? I won’t ever know. I think he’s always with me. I think his spirit watches over me but it doesn’t have his voice.

Now. Silence. The silence is very loud.

Finding Sounds That Bring Comfort

I hope you can find other sound to surround yourself with. The sound of falling rain or birdsong. The sound of other people’s laughter. You will always miss the sound of your loved one/s but there are other joyous sounds. I try to remember that my husband’s silence is not empty, it is filled with love.