I’m Happy My Departed Husband is at Peace…or am I?

When someone dies, people are quick to say things like “I’m just glad they aren’t suffering anymore.” It’s a nice thing to think when the sting of loss is felt, and of course we mean it when we say it.

My husband ended his life, which was an incredibly hard pill for everyone we knew, to swallow.

I cannot estimate how hard it was for others to hear and accept, but for me, it seemed impossible. I had no idea how I could exist in a world where my husband committed suicide.

I was angry. I hated him at that moment. He was the most loathsome human to ever walk the planet, in my eyes.

But those feelings didn’t last.

I forgave him pretty quickly, and with forgiveness, I was able to feel a sense of warmth and peace over the fact that he was no longer in any kind of mental or physical anguish.

Over the years that have followed since his departure, and all of the heartache and drama to come with the aftermath of suicide, I have found myself struggling to maintain my happiness at the thought of him being at rest.

Don’t get me wrong, I have fully accepted this situation and miss him every single day that goes by.

I still love him, I do not hate him, but sometimes…

…he just pisses me off…

Why the hell should he get a free pass on all the bullshit I have to go through on the daily? Where is he when snarky…