(I knew it. I just knew my last entry was waaayyy too short compared to my usual style!)
This back-to-school time of year always brings something out in me. I don't know what it is. Summer is winding down. The nights start getting cooler. The leaves change colors. Fall. It really is one of my favorite times of the year.
This fall is a little different though. I'm entering into that time when I keep thinking "About this time last year....."
Yeah.
Ouch.
About this time last year we were getting ready for a fun day at Cedar Point. The school shopping was finished. Just one little trip to round out the summer. (And to, unknowingly at that time, create our final fun memory as a family.)
This time last year we were oblivious to the fact that we had already boarded a runaway train. One that we had no control over. About this time last year, life wasn't perfect. (Or was it?) Looking back now, it seems pretty damn close to perfect. I guess it's all a matter of perspective.
September will be here before I know it. Damn. There are going to be a lot of "About this time last years". The pain. The frustration. The doctors. The hospitals.
And then October. More doctors. Even more pain. My last birthday...and the promise that "next year's birthday will be better". And then that final hospital visit. The dreaded diagnosis. Hospice. Sickness. Pain. Tears. Beautiful, crisp fall weather. And pain, pain, pain. The never-ending pain. Physical. Emotional. Heartache.
And, hey, while I'm on the subject...what about November?
F%*# November.
Reminds me of that song. "Wake me up when September ends." Screw that. Wake me up on New Years Day.
But that's not me. I won't sleep through it all. What good would that do? I will forge through it. I will make the best of the life I have today. Because I do have a lot to be grateful for. A lot. Maybe even more than I deserve.
I will see this year of firsts through to the end. I know the grief won't magically disappear come mid-November. But maybe, just maybe, I will start to feel like the survivor...the strong person...that everyone keeps telling me I am. Maybe then a few stupid squares on the calendar won't hold so much power over me.
Maybe the second year will actually be worse than the first. I don't think so though. At least I hope not. From where I'm sitting now, I have so many things to look forward to.
And, for that, I am extremely grateful. And I feel very lucky. :)
Now, if I could just pull my one foot out of the past and plant it firmly on today's ground......
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Milestones
There are so many "firsts" in our lives. They start the moment we are born. Our first cry. Our first bath. First words. First steps.
Our first day of school. First crushes and first kisses. First job. And who can forget their first time behind the wheel of a car?
I've always been afraid of forgetting any of these firsts with my own sons. I took countless pictures when they were small. I was constantly scrambling to write down dates on scraps of paper to later transfer to their baby books. There was a period of time where they probably didn't recognize me if I didn't have a camcorder stuck to the front of my face!
I don't feel the compulsion to document the exact dates anymore. While it's nice to see a log of all of these dates, to jog my memory of what is now known to me as the absolute happiest time of my life, I'm starting to see that I would rather revel in the emotions that these memories bring to the surface than to know the specific day it happened. I'm starting to realize in a big way that it is all about the feelings...the joy and the happiness.
And, my God, there are so many of those moments locked so deep within my heart. Good moments. Really good moments.
And then 9 months ago happened. There will still be many more "firsts" to experience. Several have happened already. Some of them have been good. Unfortunately, there are many sad ones too.
Today was an exciting one. Brandon is attending his very first day of high school! Yep...he's growing up. I am excited for him. But I still had that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach all morning. You might know the feeling. That one where something just doesn't feel quite right but you can't put your finger on what it is. Only....I do know what it is.
The absence.
Not just the physical absence of his Dad. But all that goes along with who he was. The absence of his teasing. The absence of some profound comment or perfectly-timed joke that would make us all smile. Oh and I could just hear him talking about how we only have 4 more years of this "raising-kids-stuff" and then it would be our time. (And our money...to actually spend on ourselves!)
So my emotions were all over the place this morning. Excited. Happy. Anxious. Sad. Proud.
As I dropped Brandon off at school, I tried to think of something that Chuck would have said. Something light-hearted enough to make him smile. But also something poignant that would make him feel like his Dad is still here with him through one of his major milestones. I drew a blank. My mind just doesn't work like his did.
So I said nothing.
I felt the urge to somehow share this day with Chuck. What else could I do except make a trip to the cemetery? Can I just say one thing? It is just really wrong that I have to touch the letters of his name on a piece of bronze to "share" these days with him. Really, really wrong.
The only fear he shared with me during his illness was that he worried he would miss us. Seeing the morning dew on the roses I placed there the other day reminded me of that fact. It sorta reminded me of tears. Tears from heaven.
We know how much you want to be here with us. We miss you, too.
Our first day of school. First crushes and first kisses. First job. And who can forget their first time behind the wheel of a car?
I've always been afraid of forgetting any of these firsts with my own sons. I took countless pictures when they were small. I was constantly scrambling to write down dates on scraps of paper to later transfer to their baby books. There was a period of time where they probably didn't recognize me if I didn't have a camcorder stuck to the front of my face!
I don't feel the compulsion to document the exact dates anymore. While it's nice to see a log of all of these dates, to jog my memory of what is now known to me as the absolute happiest time of my life, I'm starting to see that I would rather revel in the emotions that these memories bring to the surface than to know the specific day it happened. I'm starting to realize in a big way that it is all about the feelings...the joy and the happiness.
And, my God, there are so many of those moments locked so deep within my heart. Good moments. Really good moments.
And then 9 months ago happened. There will still be many more "firsts" to experience. Several have happened already. Some of them have been good. Unfortunately, there are many sad ones too.
Today was an exciting one. Brandon is attending his very first day of high school! Yep...he's growing up. I am excited for him. But I still had that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach all morning. You might know the feeling. That one where something just doesn't feel quite right but you can't put your finger on what it is. Only....I do know what it is.
The absence.
Not just the physical absence of his Dad. But all that goes along with who he was. The absence of his teasing. The absence of some profound comment or perfectly-timed joke that would make us all smile. Oh and I could just hear him talking about how we only have 4 more years of this "raising-kids-stuff" and then it would be our time. (And our money...to actually spend on ourselves!)
So my emotions were all over the place this morning. Excited. Happy. Anxious. Sad. Proud.
As I dropped Brandon off at school, I tried to think of something that Chuck would have said. Something light-hearted enough to make him smile. But also something poignant that would make him feel like his Dad is still here with him through one of his major milestones. I drew a blank. My mind just doesn't work like his did.
So I said nothing.
I felt the urge to somehow share this day with Chuck. What else could I do except make a trip to the cemetery? Can I just say one thing? It is just really wrong that I have to touch the letters of his name on a piece of bronze to "share" these days with him. Really, really wrong.
The only fear he shared with me during his illness was that he worried he would miss us. Seeing the morning dew on the roses I placed there the other day reminded me of that fact. It sorta reminded me of tears. Tears from heaven.
We know how much you want to be here with us. We miss you, too.
Saturday, August 8, 2009
Do I dare say it?
Or will I jinx myself?
Or will it bring me tremendous guilt at a future time?
Ahhh...who cares about the future. Or what anybody else thinks...for that matter. I've learned (in the worst way), to live for today. There is no guarantee for tomorrow. Never.
It's all about today.
So, yeah, I will say it. I AM HAPPY RIGHT NOW!
Wow...what a concept...this happiness thing.
I feel like an excited teenager in love. What??? Yeah, I do. Judge me if you want to. That's okay. I'm living for me and my boys. That's all I care about it. I'm not looking to please anybody. I'm not being reckless. I think...about everything. I consider every circumstance and consequence. I don't just put my heart out there to be played with. I'm too smart for that. I'm not saying I know everything.
But I know enough.
Just when I thought my life was "over". Just when I thought there would be no more happiness. Just when I was ready to lay down and die........
Yeah.
I'm starting to love someone else.
It doesn't mean I can't still love my past and my life up until this point. It doesn't mean that I have to give up my past. It doesn't mean any of that. It doesn't mean that I was looking for any of this.
Seriously...this was the last thing I was "looking" for. It just happened.
It just is what it is.
It's happening. It's real. It's awesome.
And I'm happy...right now. That's all I can ask for.
It doesn't mean I will forget.
It doesn't mean I will never cry for what I've lost. It doesn't mean that I wasn't satisfied and happy with the direction my life was supposed to take.
It just means that I'm persevering.
That I'm living.
That I have hope.
That I believe in love. That I still have hope.
I'm not one to take these things lightly. I've considered whether or not it could be a "rebound" or "replacement" type of thing. That has scared me more than anything.
But it's not.
It's what I want. It's what I need. There is no denying that it's taken some adjustments. In my thinking. In my living. In my heart.
But it is what it is.
And I'm happy.
I've worked through it in my mind and my heart for awhile now. But I just feel it. I know it. It's there.
And I'm happy. (How many times can I say that??)
I'm truly happy.
I'll never forget.
But just when I thought that love was never in the cards for me ever again? All I can say about that is to never assume anything.
If it doesn't work out, please be there for me when my heart is broken. If it does work out? Please be happy for me. Please, most of all, don't judge me. Until you've walked in my shoes? You just have no clue. No matter how good of a writer someone is? I can try my best to get you to feel what I feel. It's still not the same. YOU JUST DON'T KNOW!
I may make you feel the emotions with the words I write. But you still will (God forbid) never know. I don't want you to know.
I've been to the depths of hell.
I'm coming back. I'm stronger than ever before. I believe more than ever in living for today. Life's thrown some pretty shitty curves at me. It's not gonna bring me down anymore. I'm here.
I'm alive.
I will be me. I will live. Nothing can ever bring me to my knees again.
NOTHING.
I'm living my life while I've got the chance. That's all I can do. And it's a damn good feeling.
I will always carry with me the lessons I've learned, the love I've had, the life I've led. Those things can only make me a better me. I will always cherish and honor my past. But I can't stay stuck in the "what-ifs" and the "should've-beens".
As well-intentioned as our plans might have been?
That's Life Lesson Number One.
Doesn't always work out as planned. You make plans. You do the best you can to bring those plans to fruition. You work towards goals.
For what?
To have it ripped out from under you?
So, no. For today. That's what it's about. I'm living for today. I'm enjoying myself. I'm giving myself permission to feel bad when I need to. I'm not trying to block anything or forget anything. But I'm living today. I choose to live.
That's pretty awesome compared to where I've been. It's damn awesome.
I'm living again.
I'm excited.
I'm giddy.
I'm like a teenager in love.
And I won't apologize for it.
I deserve it.
I'll never forget. I'll always cherish what has been. I'll always love what I've had. I'll always miss what could have been. I'll always and forever wish the future could have worked out the way we planned.
But I can still be happy. And it feels good. Really, really good.
It didn't end the way it was supposed to. We had no control over that. But we gave it a hell of a shot.
I'm just not ready or capable of laying down to die. Not just yet. I'm here. I'm alive. I want to laugh. I want to live.
Damn....what a difference from a few months ago. ;)
Or will it bring me tremendous guilt at a future time?
Ahhh...who cares about the future. Or what anybody else thinks...for that matter. I've learned (in the worst way), to live for today. There is no guarantee for tomorrow. Never.
It's all about today.
So, yeah, I will say it. I AM HAPPY RIGHT NOW!
Wow...what a concept...this happiness thing.
I feel like an excited teenager in love. What??? Yeah, I do. Judge me if you want to. That's okay. I'm living for me and my boys. That's all I care about it. I'm not looking to please anybody. I'm not being reckless. I think...about everything. I consider every circumstance and consequence. I don't just put my heart out there to be played with. I'm too smart for that. I'm not saying I know everything.
But I know enough.
Just when I thought my life was "over". Just when I thought there would be no more happiness. Just when I was ready to lay down and die........
Yeah.
I'm starting to love someone else.
It doesn't mean I can't still love my past and my life up until this point. It doesn't mean that I have to give up my past. It doesn't mean any of that. It doesn't mean that I was looking for any of this.
Seriously...this was the last thing I was "looking" for. It just happened.
It just is what it is.
It's happening. It's real. It's awesome.
And I'm happy...right now. That's all I can ask for.
It doesn't mean I will forget.
It doesn't mean I will never cry for what I've lost. It doesn't mean that I wasn't satisfied and happy with the direction my life was supposed to take.
It just means that I'm persevering.
That I'm living.
That I have hope.
That I believe in love. That I still have hope.
I'm not one to take these things lightly. I've considered whether or not it could be a "rebound" or "replacement" type of thing. That has scared me more than anything.
But it's not.
It's what I want. It's what I need. There is no denying that it's taken some adjustments. In my thinking. In my living. In my heart.
But it is what it is.
And I'm happy.
I've worked through it in my mind and my heart for awhile now. But I just feel it. I know it. It's there.
And I'm happy. (How many times can I say that??)
I'm truly happy.
I'll never forget.
But just when I thought that love was never in the cards for me ever again? All I can say about that is to never assume anything.
If it doesn't work out, please be there for me when my heart is broken. If it does work out? Please be happy for me. Please, most of all, don't judge me. Until you've walked in my shoes? You just have no clue. No matter how good of a writer someone is? I can try my best to get you to feel what I feel. It's still not the same. YOU JUST DON'T KNOW!
I may make you feel the emotions with the words I write. But you still will (God forbid) never know. I don't want you to know.
I've been to the depths of hell.
I'm coming back. I'm stronger than ever before. I believe more than ever in living for today. Life's thrown some pretty shitty curves at me. It's not gonna bring me down anymore. I'm here.
I'm alive.
I will be me. I will live. Nothing can ever bring me to my knees again.
NOTHING.
I'm living my life while I've got the chance. That's all I can do. And it's a damn good feeling.
I will always carry with me the lessons I've learned, the love I've had, the life I've led. Those things can only make me a better me. I will always cherish and honor my past. But I can't stay stuck in the "what-ifs" and the "should've-beens".
As well-intentioned as our plans might have been?
That's Life Lesson Number One.
Doesn't always work out as planned. You make plans. You do the best you can to bring those plans to fruition. You work towards goals.
For what?
To have it ripped out from under you?
So, no. For today. That's what it's about. I'm living for today. I'm enjoying myself. I'm giving myself permission to feel bad when I need to. I'm not trying to block anything or forget anything. But I'm living today. I choose to live.
That's pretty awesome compared to where I've been. It's damn awesome.
I'm living again.
I'm excited.
I'm giddy.
I'm like a teenager in love.
And I won't apologize for it.
I deserve it.
I'll never forget. I'll always cherish what has been. I'll always love what I've had. I'll always miss what could have been. I'll always and forever wish the future could have worked out the way we planned.
But I can still be happy. And it feels good. Really, really good.
It didn't end the way it was supposed to. We had no control over that. But we gave it a hell of a shot.
I'm just not ready or capable of laying down to die. Not just yet. I'm here. I'm alive. I want to laugh. I want to live.
Damn....what a difference from a few months ago. ;)
Friday, August 7, 2009
Roller coasters, male bonding......and pennies!
Most that know me have heard the story about the two pennies. Those two shiny 2008 pennies I found at my feet 16 hours after Chuck died brought me moments of great peace and comfort in the beginning weeks. I carried them in my left pocket every day. Whenever things got rough or I started to question my beliefs, I could reach in and feel those two pennies. To me, they were the closest thing I could get to physical "proof" that our spirits continue on after we die. When I lost one of them about a month ago, I was almost devastated. That's when I decided I didn't need to carry the remaining one around anymore and put it up for safekeeping.
I feel like I've made so many changes in the last month...since I decided to stop clinging so tightly to the many rituals I felt the need to observe the first 8 months. Things are looking up quite a bit more. While I know I will still have my moments when grief knocks me to the ground, I'm learning how to get up a little bit quicker and stand taller.
I'm opening my mind up to new possibilities and I'm opening my heart up to new friends. I have one friend in particular (who happens to be a Man....go ahead, gasp if you would like) who has been very good for me the last couple of weeks. I talk, he listens. He talks, I listen....and I learn. He is not the reason I decided to remove my rings. He is not the reason I decided it's time to start letting go. But he was very influential in me deciding to do those things...in helping me realize that it's time to trudge forward. He is full of advice and I just find myself amazed at how relevant his words are. And I feel extremely lucky that, if I have to be in this situation, I have gained a very strong friendship through it all.
Yesterday, this particular friend went to Cedar Point with me and the boys. Adam and Brandon have seen him hanging around here a bit but this was the first time they actually got the chance to "meet" him. It didn't take long at all for them to become friendly. Many times I found myself walking behind the three of them while they just walked and talked amongst themselves. It made me feel good to see the boys just hanging out with an older male. That's obviously one thing that's been sorely lacking in their lives since Chuck died.
We had a great day at Cedar Point. We hit as many roller coasters as we could. And a few of the smaller rides. We ate. We walked...a lot. We talked. We laughed.
When I have spent any time with a friend of the opposite sex, I can't help but feel a little twinge of guilt in the back of my mind. Chuck had a jealous streak. I didn't have any close male friends. It's just the way it went between us. So now I start wondering, "What would Chuck think about this?" or "Is he disappointed and upset with me right now?" Pretty normal thinking, for me anyways. I guess. But it always takes away from the enjoyment of the moment. It's always in the back of my mind that I'm doing something "wrong"...even though I know in my heart that I'm not.
At one point in the day, my friend told the boys that he would pay for them to go on a different kind of ride. It's basically one of those things where you are strapped in a harness and attached to a long cord. You are hoisted up God knows how many feet, one rider pulls the cord, and then you are free-falling....and flying! Swinging back and forth. It's pretty fun to watch. Anyways, it's no more expensive for a trio to go than it is for a duo. He asked if I would like to go on it with them and I told him that I would sit this one out. I told him to go.
So I sat down on one of the many benches around to wait and watch. As they were being slowly hoisted into the air, I smiled. I laughed at the expression of apprehension on the boys' faces. But then...there it was. That twinge of guilt. Seeing the boys up there with our friend in the middle. In the place their Dad should be. But I felt happy that they had someone to experience this with. Still.... I just couldn't keep wondering if Chuck would be upset about all of this. After all, I never got that whole "I want you to move on" talk from him. I've been hoping and praying that something will happen that will "prove" to me that it is okay.
At that moment, while they are almost to the top, I glanced down at the ground where I was sitting. Right there, an inch away from my left foot, was a penny! A shiny penny just glaring in the sun. My heart skipped a beat or two. It was tails down. I leaned over to pick it up and I thought in my head, "If this is a 2008 penny......" And do you know what? That's right. There it was. Probably a huge coincidence, this penny I held tightly in the palm of my hand. But, to me, it was much more than that. It was a symbol. It was my sign. It was the doorway through which all of my guilt and doubts left my heart. I quietly slipped that penny into my left pocket until I could get home and put it with my other remaining one. And I walked around the rest of the day with the sense of peace I experienced on that first awful morning alone.
In Wednesday's blog entry about letting go, I wrote these words:
"Whatever the future brings, I hope he will be out there...somehow guiding me, encouraging me and cheering me on."
I think I got my wish!
Thank you, Chuck. I understand.
I feel like I've made so many changes in the last month...since I decided to stop clinging so tightly to the many rituals I felt the need to observe the first 8 months. Things are looking up quite a bit more. While I know I will still have my moments when grief knocks me to the ground, I'm learning how to get up a little bit quicker and stand taller.
I'm opening my mind up to new possibilities and I'm opening my heart up to new friends. I have one friend in particular (who happens to be a Man....go ahead, gasp if you would like) who has been very good for me the last couple of weeks. I talk, he listens. He talks, I listen....and I learn. He is not the reason I decided to remove my rings. He is not the reason I decided it's time to start letting go. But he was very influential in me deciding to do those things...in helping me realize that it's time to trudge forward. He is full of advice and I just find myself amazed at how relevant his words are. And I feel extremely lucky that, if I have to be in this situation, I have gained a very strong friendship through it all.
Yesterday, this particular friend went to Cedar Point with me and the boys. Adam and Brandon have seen him hanging around here a bit but this was the first time they actually got the chance to "meet" him. It didn't take long at all for them to become friendly. Many times I found myself walking behind the three of them while they just walked and talked amongst themselves. It made me feel good to see the boys just hanging out with an older male. That's obviously one thing that's been sorely lacking in their lives since Chuck died.
We had a great day at Cedar Point. We hit as many roller coasters as we could. And a few of the smaller rides. We ate. We walked...a lot. We talked. We laughed.
When I have spent any time with a friend of the opposite sex, I can't help but feel a little twinge of guilt in the back of my mind. Chuck had a jealous streak. I didn't have any close male friends. It's just the way it went between us. So now I start wondering, "What would Chuck think about this?" or "Is he disappointed and upset with me right now?" Pretty normal thinking, for me anyways. I guess. But it always takes away from the enjoyment of the moment. It's always in the back of my mind that I'm doing something "wrong"...even though I know in my heart that I'm not.
At one point in the day, my friend told the boys that he would pay for them to go on a different kind of ride. It's basically one of those things where you are strapped in a harness and attached to a long cord. You are hoisted up God knows how many feet, one rider pulls the cord, and then you are free-falling....and flying! Swinging back and forth. It's pretty fun to watch. Anyways, it's no more expensive for a trio to go than it is for a duo. He asked if I would like to go on it with them and I told him that I would sit this one out. I told him to go.
So I sat down on one of the many benches around to wait and watch. As they were being slowly hoisted into the air, I smiled. I laughed at the expression of apprehension on the boys' faces. But then...there it was. That twinge of guilt. Seeing the boys up there with our friend in the middle. In the place their Dad should be. But I felt happy that they had someone to experience this with. Still.... I just couldn't keep wondering if Chuck would be upset about all of this. After all, I never got that whole "I want you to move on" talk from him. I've been hoping and praying that something will happen that will "prove" to me that it is okay.
At that moment, while they are almost to the top, I glanced down at the ground where I was sitting. Right there, an inch away from my left foot, was a penny! A shiny penny just glaring in the sun. My heart skipped a beat or two. It was tails down. I leaned over to pick it up and I thought in my head, "If this is a 2008 penny......" And do you know what? That's right. There it was. Probably a huge coincidence, this penny I held tightly in the palm of my hand. But, to me, it was much more than that. It was a symbol. It was my sign. It was the doorway through which all of my guilt and doubts left my heart. I quietly slipped that penny into my left pocket until I could get home and put it with my other remaining one. And I walked around the rest of the day with the sense of peace I experienced on that first awful morning alone.
In Wednesday's blog entry about letting go, I wrote these words:
"Whatever the future brings, I hope he will be out there...somehow guiding me, encouraging me and cheering me on."
I think I got my wish!
Thank you, Chuck. I understand.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
With this ring....
All through this grief process, this journey that is completely unique to me, I've been adamant about listening to my heart. If I over think things, if I do what other people suggest I should do...well that will only lead to struggle and regrets. When someone you love dies prematurely you gain a whole new perspective on many things. Regret seems to be at or near the top of the list.
I've been trying to dip my toes in the water a little more lately. I really do want to engage in life again. I sat at the cemetery last weekend and thought about so many things. Mostly I thought about how my life has been since that horrible day in the hospital. I thought about the path I have taken so far. I thought about my choices I have for the future.
There are literally hundreds of different choices I can make that will alter the course of the rest of my life. But it actually boils down to only two general directions. I can stay miserable, sad, despondent. I can do that while still appearing to function. I can just "show up" to life without participating. That's exactly what I've been doing for the past 8 months and 3 weeks. Sure, I've had a few fun times during that period. But for the most part, it's been a torturous experience....breathing, existing, surviving. And then repeating it again tomorrow.
Then there's my other option. I can begin the process of letting go. I have no doubt it's a very long and complicated process. And a very difficult one. But if I want to live again, if I want that excitement and joy in my life that I used to have, if I want my smile to reach all the way up to my eyes...well, then learning to let go is my only choice.
So I sat out at the cemetery last weekend and told Chuck that I need to choose to start letting go. I told him that I can't go on being this miserable. It really is no way to live. No way at all. And it's something I don't want to experience for one more day. It not only hurts me, but it hurts everyone who loves me. Of course if I could have anything in the world, it would be to have him back here...to have our normal lives back. I would choose to not be in this situation of making these choices in the first place.
But I am.
And so I must.
I can only hope that once our spirits are separated from our bodies, we gain a new understanding. That it's all about love and wanting those we love to continue to grow and laugh and love...and live. To live fully and completely. You see, I still worry about hurting him. If there was even the slightest chance that he'd come back, I would sit here and wait. I wouldn't change a thing so that way our lives could pick up right where we left off. Even if I had to wait 50 years, I would be okay just simply waiting. The hope I would feel would be enough to keep me waiting patiently. But there is no hope of that. So my only hope is that he truly loves me enough to let me go. That he trusts in me enough to allow me to move on. That he wants nothing more than to see me happy. He swore he would die for me. I wonder if he would've ever agreed to let me go if that's what I truly needed to be happy. Selfless concepts. The ultimate sacrifice. All in the name of true and undying love.
So on Monday, 265 days after I lost him, I made a conscious decision to do something I never thought I would do. I took off my wedding ring. For the first time in 13 years. My first, perhaps biggest, step in letting go.
I cried. I told myself that it's a trial. That if I got too panicked, I can always slip it back on. I was sure it would be back on within hours. I haven't put it back on yet. It's sitting there on my dresser...just in case.
From the very beginning, I swore I would always wear it. Until the day I die. It's strange how much grief changes you. Or at least changes your way of thinking and seeing things. I love that ring. I love all that it stands for. (Not stood for...stands for.) It's meaning and symbolism haven't changed. Which is why I felt the sudden need for removing it. The love still survives. The bond will always be there in my heart. But the marriage is over. It's over in the eyes of the law and it's over in the eyes of God. Until death do us part. We fulfilled our vows. We saw our marriage to its completion. I'm so proud of both of us to be able to say that. We made it to the end. But now it's over.
To continue wearing my ring would mean I'm trying to grasp tightly on to something that doesn't exist anymore. Not him...the marriage. I don't need a physical object to remind me that he existed and that we loved each other. That part is embedded in my heart. He is part me and I am part him. If I continue to mourn him every minute of every day until I die, will that somehow prove to everyone how much I loved him? I don't feel the need to prove anything to anybody. I will always know the love in my heart. To let go proves something though. It proves that I've taken everything I've ever learned from him, especially his strength and perseverance, and am applying it to my life. It proves that I am beginning to understand that our love was so much more than a marriage certificate and a couple of gold bands. Our love made me the person I am today.
I don't want to live my life in a way in which, when I die, people will say, "She never moved on after losing him. She never stopped wearing her ring. She cried every single day for what she lost and she was never truly happy after that. She had 20 great years with him and that was it. She actually stopped living the year that he died." Instead, I would like people to be able to say, "She lived through one of the worst things that could ever happen to a person. Sure, she changed. But she didn't become jaded. She learned how to enjoy things in life again...maybe even more than before. She talked of him fondly and often...smiling and laughing as she recalled all of the years they shared together. Even through her pain, she was so grateful that she had him for as long as she did. And then she made the decision to get back out there and live. She knew that his influence on her life could only make her future brighter. His legacy lived on through her."
I used to think that letting go of the intense grief meant getting rid of the memories and trying to forget the love. But I'm learning that letting go doesn't mean getting rid of anything. It's not about giving up or giving in. It doesn't signify weakness. Letting go is quite the opposite. It takes strength and a quiet determination. It signifies a desire to stand up and live again after being knocked down. It's about being secure in knowing that the love and memories will always remain. And that you don't have to hold on to them so tightly anymore because they aren't going to disappear...no matter what. The love will always be there. With or without a ring.
Whatever the future brings, I hope he will be out there...somehow guiding me, encouraging me and cheering me on. When he was alive, I believe he wanted what was best for me. Why would that change now? He didn't ever want me to suffer. He didn't like to see me cry. He knows I need to start letting go. I think he understands. Our marriage has come full circle. The love behind it is never ending.
It's time for me to start living forward now.
It's time to start laughing, seeing, going, doing, experiencing, enjoying, smiling...
It's time to let go.
I've been trying to dip my toes in the water a little more lately. I really do want to engage in life again. I sat at the cemetery last weekend and thought about so many things. Mostly I thought about how my life has been since that horrible day in the hospital. I thought about the path I have taken so far. I thought about my choices I have for the future.
There are literally hundreds of different choices I can make that will alter the course of the rest of my life. But it actually boils down to only two general directions. I can stay miserable, sad, despondent. I can do that while still appearing to function. I can just "show up" to life without participating. That's exactly what I've been doing for the past 8 months and 3 weeks. Sure, I've had a few fun times during that period. But for the most part, it's been a torturous experience....breathing, existing, surviving. And then repeating it again tomorrow.
Then there's my other option. I can begin the process of letting go. I have no doubt it's a very long and complicated process. And a very difficult one. But if I want to live again, if I want that excitement and joy in my life that I used to have, if I want my smile to reach all the way up to my eyes...well, then learning to let go is my only choice.
So I sat out at the cemetery last weekend and told Chuck that I need to choose to start letting go. I told him that I can't go on being this miserable. It really is no way to live. No way at all. And it's something I don't want to experience for one more day. It not only hurts me, but it hurts everyone who loves me. Of course if I could have anything in the world, it would be to have him back here...to have our normal lives back. I would choose to not be in this situation of making these choices in the first place.
But I am.
And so I must.
I can only hope that once our spirits are separated from our bodies, we gain a new understanding. That it's all about love and wanting those we love to continue to grow and laugh and love...and live. To live fully and completely. You see, I still worry about hurting him. If there was even the slightest chance that he'd come back, I would sit here and wait. I wouldn't change a thing so that way our lives could pick up right where we left off. Even if I had to wait 50 years, I would be okay just simply waiting. The hope I would feel would be enough to keep me waiting patiently. But there is no hope of that. So my only hope is that he truly loves me enough to let me go. That he trusts in me enough to allow me to move on. That he wants nothing more than to see me happy. He swore he would die for me. I wonder if he would've ever agreed to let me go if that's what I truly needed to be happy. Selfless concepts. The ultimate sacrifice. All in the name of true and undying love.
So on Monday, 265 days after I lost him, I made a conscious decision to do something I never thought I would do. I took off my wedding ring. For the first time in 13 years. My first, perhaps biggest, step in letting go.
I cried. I told myself that it's a trial. That if I got too panicked, I can always slip it back on. I was sure it would be back on within hours. I haven't put it back on yet. It's sitting there on my dresser...just in case.
From the very beginning, I swore I would always wear it. Until the day I die. It's strange how much grief changes you. Or at least changes your way of thinking and seeing things. I love that ring. I love all that it stands for. (Not stood for...stands for.) It's meaning and symbolism haven't changed. Which is why I felt the sudden need for removing it. The love still survives. The bond will always be there in my heart. But the marriage is over. It's over in the eyes of the law and it's over in the eyes of God. Until death do us part. We fulfilled our vows. We saw our marriage to its completion. I'm so proud of both of us to be able to say that. We made it to the end. But now it's over.
To continue wearing my ring would mean I'm trying to grasp tightly on to something that doesn't exist anymore. Not him...the marriage. I don't need a physical object to remind me that he existed and that we loved each other. That part is embedded in my heart. He is part me and I am part him. If I continue to mourn him every minute of every day until I die, will that somehow prove to everyone how much I loved him? I don't feel the need to prove anything to anybody. I will always know the love in my heart. To let go proves something though. It proves that I've taken everything I've ever learned from him, especially his strength and perseverance, and am applying it to my life. It proves that I am beginning to understand that our love was so much more than a marriage certificate and a couple of gold bands. Our love made me the person I am today.
I don't want to live my life in a way in which, when I die, people will say, "She never moved on after losing him. She never stopped wearing her ring. She cried every single day for what she lost and she was never truly happy after that. She had 20 great years with him and that was it. She actually stopped living the year that he died." Instead, I would like people to be able to say, "She lived through one of the worst things that could ever happen to a person. Sure, she changed. But she didn't become jaded. She learned how to enjoy things in life again...maybe even more than before. She talked of him fondly and often...smiling and laughing as she recalled all of the years they shared together. Even through her pain, she was so grateful that she had him for as long as she did. And then she made the decision to get back out there and live. She knew that his influence on her life could only make her future brighter. His legacy lived on through her."
I used to think that letting go of the intense grief meant getting rid of the memories and trying to forget the love. But I'm learning that letting go doesn't mean getting rid of anything. It's not about giving up or giving in. It doesn't signify weakness. Letting go is quite the opposite. It takes strength and a quiet determination. It signifies a desire to stand up and live again after being knocked down. It's about being secure in knowing that the love and memories will always remain. And that you don't have to hold on to them so tightly anymore because they aren't going to disappear...no matter what. The love will always be there. With or without a ring.
Whatever the future brings, I hope he will be out there...somehow guiding me, encouraging me and cheering me on. When he was alive, I believe he wanted what was best for me. Why would that change now? He didn't ever want me to suffer. He didn't like to see me cry. He knows I need to start letting go. I think he understands. Our marriage has come full circle. The love behind it is never ending.
It's time for me to start living forward now.
It's time to start laughing, seeing, going, doing, experiencing, enjoying, smiling...
It's time to let go.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Love and Goodbyes
You know, it's true what they say. To love means taking a risk of being hurt.
Since Chuck died, I've sworn to myself many times that I will never love anyone with my whole heart ever again. Of course, I can't stop loving those I already love. But I swore my heart was closed off to any additional "risks". I definitely would never love anyone new. But I also wouldn't love anyone any more than I already do.
I figured it's pretty simple. I remain neutral...or level. And once I go through the pain of losing my current loved ones? There is no chance for the pain of loss to touch me ever again. (Of course it's been in the back of my mind all along about what I will do if and when my sons have kids. Am I going to NOT love any new grandchildren? How is that possible?) I'm sure this is just a logical (grief) response to an illogical (grief) thought pattern.
But this last week with our oldest granddaughter, Lindsey, visiting has proved to me that I am not capable of withholding love. Although I've always loved her, she opened my heart up even more during her stay. In seven short days, she taught me that love is worth the possible pain. An 8-year-old taught me that...such an important life lesson. She taught me that there is always hope and that anyone can persevere through the hardest times. (And believe me, this little girl has seen more difficulties and heartbreak than even a grown adult should have to endure.)
I worried so much in the days leading up to her visit. I thought I would break down and cry the moment I saw her. I didn't though. It was a happy, but casual, reunion. Our visit was nice. It wasn't overly exciting. We weren't on the go all week...trying to fill up every minute with some exhilarating adventure. We played games. We basically hung out around home. We were just together. I asked her what she wanted to do. She didn't care. She wanted to play games. She wanted me to watch her favorite tv shows with her. She just wanted us to be together. It's funny how a child can take you back to the basics, isn't it?
No, there were never any extra special days. We didn't drive here and visit there. We didn't spend much money. The most extravagant (expensive) thing we did was go to the movie theater. We played games (she beat me most of the time), we watched tv, we ran errands together, we caught toads (she's a girly-girl and a tomboy all mixed together!). And we talked. We talked a lot.
We talked about her school. Her new friends. We talked about everyday things. We talked about my job. We talked about clothes and makeup and hair. We talked about pets. We talked about family...about her mom. Her sisters whom she misses so much.
We talked about her Grandpa. About his funeral. About where he is buried. About memories of him.
We talked about life. We talked about death.
And everything in between. Sometimes until very late into the night.
We bonded. Just when I thought we couldn't be closer, our bond became tighter.
.....sigh.
And then it was time to say goodbye again. I took it much harder than I thought I would. Yeah, I thought about whether I would cry or not when I first laid my eyes upon her again. I didn't stop and consider the goodbye part of it. I didn't seriously think about it until this morning. I talked to her on our trip about us keeping in touch a little more often. She expressed her wishes to come visit more often and for a longer period of time next summer. We strategized on how we could get together sooner...instead of waiting almost another year.
And then we arrived at our destination.
Her other, less favorite :), Grandma gave her a bear hug and told her that she missed her. I'm sure she did. There is no way that can compare to the way I've missed her for the last 10 months. When Lindsey walked around to the other side of the car to put her stuff inside, I took the opportunity to thank my husband's ex-wife (whom he wasn't very fond of...still...after 20 years) and my nemesis for all of these years..."Thank you."
"Thank you for letting her come and visit. It was really good for me. And for her, too, I think."
And then I cried. Damn tears. I didn't want to. I didn't want to appear vulnerable or weak. Not in front of the ex-wife of all people. She hugged me and told me not to cry. She replied, "Any time you want to see her." She told me to let her know if there is anything she can do.
This might sound cruel, but I don't trust her. You would have to know the history to understand that. But I have to take her for her word. She has the ultimate control over Lindsey now. Her word and her promise is my only hope for a future with Lindsey...my Granddaughter. Our Granddaughter. She doesn't belong to me. We all have to share her. (Although I am the one who taught her to say "Grandma" when she was less than a year old!)
I feel honored and privileged that I can still be her Grandma. I am so lucky.
I got my emotions in check enough to hug and kiss Lindsey goodbye. She left with the hope that we will see each other soon. Unfortunately, she has learned at an early age to not take things like this for granted. She left happy. Not happy to be going "home". But happy and fulfilled because she spent the week with her favorite Grandma. (Her words...not mine.)
I cried for about the first 40 miles home. I felt like I lost her all over again. Just like last summer. Last summer may have been more difficult because I didn't know if I would ever be allowed to see her again. It hurt like hell. But last summer may have also been easier because Chuck and I cried together. I had somebody here who knew exactly what I was feeling. I had somebody here to tell me to "calm down"...as only he could. I had somebody here who was going through the same exact loss that I was.
Yeah, I cried because of having to say goodbye to her. My Lindsey. But I think I also released so many more tears for the many great losses I've experienced in the last year. Lindsey is a person. A unique and special person. But she is also a symbol of my life with Chuck. Of our life together. On so many occasions, our life revolved around her and her sisters. To lose her would be like a break in a big, strong chain of memories.
I've had to say too many goodbyes lately.
I will move forward from this past week having learned and grown. That beautiful little girl reminded me that to never allow myself this type of unconditional love would be equal to dying. She taught me that love is life and life is love. She taught me that it is worth taking the risk of being hurt.
After a week of fun and light and love, the house is too quiet once again.
But my heart is full. I have been reminded how love can be...in its purest and most simple form. I am loved by an innocent child.
She's worth the risk.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
On a lighter note.....
My online community of widowed friends has a knack for making light of all the stupid things we do due to our minds not functioning as well these days. We have even coined our own term for it. We endearingly call it "Widow Brain" or "Widda Brain". Of course, every person in the world has a "blonde moment" every now and then. I don't know if there is any scientific evidence to prove that this is a real phenomenon specific to someone who has been through a major life change or trauma. But it can be very frustrating sometimes.
These things range from serious issues to menial everyday tasks. Here are a few examples:
(By the way, these are experiences posted by my online friends...not me!)
Now...if I could just quit putting my underwear on inside out!!
Seriously, I've done that so often lately I often wonder if I am switching them around while I sleep! The funny part is that I found out I'm not alone in this. Several other people have admitted to doing this, also. But, hey, at least I'm only putting them on inside out and not backwards and then wondering why they feel funny all day! :)
So the next time I'm in a grouchy mood, maybe just gently ask me if I have my underwear on the right way! I guess that "don't get your panties in a bunch" saying has a quite literal meaning!
These things range from serious issues to menial everyday tasks. Here are a few examples:
(By the way, these are experiences posted by my online friends...not me!)
- Deodorant does not work as hairspray.
- The dry clothes don't need to be dried again...unless you forget to take them out, and put the wet clothes from the washer in with them. Or unless they're not at all dry, because you never pushed the button to start the dryer to begin with.
- When going to a drive through restaurant, it is a good idea to actually get the food at the second window that you have already paid for at the first window before driving off.
- You can water a fake plant that someone gave you as often as you want - it's not going to grow. Someone gave one to me at my husband's funeral and I watered it for a year before I figured it out. I swore I bloomed a new flower too.
- Before you crank the propane tank open and strike the match, MAKE SURE THE LID IS UP ON THE BBQ!!! I almost blew my friggin head off!!!
- Don't put the coffee in the broom closet...you will never find it.. because you never go into the broom closet anymore.. because you never do any cleaning anymore.. because.. just don't put the coffee in the broom closet.
- Make sure the support group you attend is actually for widows. I accidentally ended up at a narcotics anonymous meeting. When I said "I think I'm in the wrong place" they said, " Oh why? Are you an alcoholic?"
- Write with huge numbers your phone number and be sure to keep it handy... Just in case... I had an embarrassing moment forgetting my phone number!!!!
- When a good Samaritan has stopped to pull your vehicle out of the snowbank/ditch/mud, do NOT gun the motor to help. (...thereby smashing into the rear end of his vehicle after he has stopped and you have not)
Signed, The Blonde Widow Brained Voice of Experience
- If you're going to go to the trouble of locking the side door to the garage for the night, you might want to consider actually shutting the gaping big garage door too.
- (I learned the hard way on this one) If you hire a lawn-mowing service to take over yard care until you are "back on your feet" again, don't tell the lawn guy you've just lost your husband. Otherwise, every few weeks creepy lawn man will show up at your door with his late-40-something thinning hair parted down the middle and his beer belly pressing against his lime green tank top and he will be grinning at you while he digs his denim shorts out of his crack and asking if there's anything else he can do for you while you hurriedly try to write his dang check so you can run inside and go, EEUWWW!
- Did you all know that you actually have to put ice cream in the freezer to keep it frozen? Just putting it on top of the freezer doesn't work. I can't seem to get this little bit of info to stick in my head. I just keep putting it on top and don't find it until it has melted all down the refrigerator!!!
- Lose the toothpaste pump and go back to the tube...if it sits next to the soap dispenser you too may end up sticking soap in your mouth. That will take you back to your childhood.
- When you leave home to pick up your three young children from school don't forget to put your other (the fourth) sleeping baby in the car too!
- This tip I chant to myself: The freezer is NOT the place for your keys. The freezer is NOT the place for your keys. Also I have discovered that if you put the book shelf together inside out, with the holes for the shelf on the outside you will just have to start over.
- When going out of town, (as I did, to a grief seminar no less) remember to take the packed suitcase off the bed and actually put it in the car.
- Do not attempt to put together self-assembly furniture while enjoying several glasses of wine. But if you DO, like I did, and accidentally attach parts that don't belong together and then can't get them apart, take the parts in question over to Home Depot or Lowe's, where there are lots of strong, resourceful men equipped with every tool in the world who love a challenge like this.
Now...if I could just quit putting my underwear on inside out!!
Seriously, I've done that so often lately I often wonder if I am switching them around while I sleep! The funny part is that I found out I'm not alone in this. Several other people have admitted to doing this, also. But, hey, at least I'm only putting them on inside out and not backwards and then wondering why they feel funny all day! :)
So the next time I'm in a grouchy mood, maybe just gently ask me if I have my underwear on the right way! I guess that "don't get your panties in a bunch" saying has a quite literal meaning!
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