EL DUELO Y LA SOLEDAD

When someone dies, everyone reaches out. Everyone is sorry. Everyone cries with you. You get hundreds of messages and you learn who’s really there for you.

You discover who your true friends are. You see who you can count on. Grief teaches you what matters and what doesn’t, who matters and who doesn’t. Who you want in your life, and who you don’t.

My husband was loved all over the world — from Manila to Panama. He lived and worked in so many places, touched so many hearts.

We built a true crisol de razas in our family — a melting pot of cultures. He was Canadian, I’m Venezuelan, and our children were all born in Panama. From each of those countries, beautiful and kind people reached out to me — asking about the kids, thinking of us, praying for us. I truly have no words to express how much that means, and how deeply grateful I am.

So, I’m not alone.
And yet… I am.

Because even though I have people everywhere, there are moments — like today — when no one is around. Just the kids and me. And that’s when the loneliness takes over — when the grief takes over.

Who do I call? What do I say?
All I want is him.
How can I reach him? How can I calm this pain — this ache, this silence?

It feels like my body is going to explode, like I can’t control it, and it just keeps rising.

No estás solo, pero lo estás.
Because he — Sean — the love of my life — isn’t here the way he used to be.