Good Night, Honey. I Love You

I still say these words audibly every night.
The dog must think I'm talking to him. He snuggles in close.

My tears fall.

At times, I find myself missing my husband for all the things we didn't have.
For a  few years, due to his Lewy Body dementia, we didn't even sleep in the same bed. He didn't always know who I was and much of the time didn't trust or like me. I soldiered on with his care and my love for him. The trenches of caregiving are not an easy place to be a lot of times.
Knowing my husband is no longer suffering, should make his absence feel "easier" for lack of a better word. But it's doesn't.

Before his diagnosis, he had issues I can now look back at and say were a result of his lewy body. Those issues resulted in him leaving me and being gone for 18 months. The odd thing about the feelings then and now, his absence still feels the same, I'm just not mad at him this time.
Where there was anger towards him and yet, still that small chance of hope for a reconciliation that did come, it has now been replaced with feelings of being hollow and the stark knowledge of "he can never, ever, EVER, come back".
You would think I would know what to expect, how to handle the next thing.
But I don't, I still hurt deeply inside and spend a lot of time praying for peace and guidance for my ever changing life.