100 days since Keith died. 100 days since I've held my husband's hand. 100 days since I've kissed him. 100 days since he entered the gates of Heaven. 100 days he has been healed. 100 days that have been some of the longest, hardest, saddest, and loneliest days of my entire life.
As I am writing this, the clock on the computer has rolled over to 10:01 pm. Ten o'clock has been my bedtime for years. Of course, bedtime for me means that's when I get in the bed, but I watch TV (usually until I fall asleep). So for me right now marks the beginning of my 100th night without my husband by my side. These 100 nights have been some of the darkest, loneliest, saddest, soul wrenching times I have ever experienced. Last night, my 99th night, was one of the most difficult nights I have had in several weeks. That's saying a lot too, because several of my nights have been hard. They haven't been as hard as last night. I don't know what made last night hard, but it was. I cried for a long time. I cried myself to sleep sometime after midnight I think. I missed Keith with such fierceness I thought it would consume me. I couldn't find comfort anywhere in my house or within myself. I couldn't stop crying. The only things I could do were cling to his pillow, cry hard, and plead with God to help me and comfort me.
God did comfort and help me. I know this because I fell asleep. He gave my broken heart enough peace for me to sleep.
I don't know how I am tonight. I'm teary. I'm sad. I'm heart broken. I don't know if I am devastated like I was last night. I didn't think I was when I went to bed, but it ambushed me while I was trying to go to sleep.
I am a little afraid of going to bed tonight. I am afraid of being so overcome with despair once again. I was afraid to go to sleep the night before Keith died. I remember that feeling of fear that Keith would die while I was asleep. That was before I called the hospice nurse to come over. That was before I was told Keith was in the immediate process of dying. That was before my 100 nights began. That was the last night I had with my husband alive but suffering, conscious but unable to fully communicate, trying to breathe yet unable to get enough oxygen.
It all began about this time (10:20 pm on June 6) 101 nights ago.