I sat on the balcony while nobody needed me

Dear Delyara, For eight years, I cared for my husband after his stroke. Every quiet moment was provisional. A call from the bedroom, medication, toileting, a fall, a glass of water—my body remained ready. After he died, silence felt frightening instead of restful. A grief counsellor encouraged me to create one small routine with no purpose. Each morning, I take coffee onto the balcony for ten minutes. At first, I kept bringing the phone and checking the time. Today, I forgot both. I sat there watching a neighbour shake a rug, pigeons argue on a roof, and sunlight move across the building opposite. Nobody called my name. Nobody needed lifting. The quiet did not mean my husband had been forgotten. It meant my body was allowed ten minutes without preparing to rescue anyone.