The Permanent Effects of Death, Grief and Healing

I have been thinking about the subject of grief and loss this past week. Less about the loss I suffered and more about attitudes I have run into as I have traveled my journey.

It has been my experience that death, dying and grief is not talked about much in our society. The subject is taboo in most circles. It makes most people uncomfortable. In general, in our society, people don't know what to say, they don't want to make the other person hurt more and it causes them to be more aware of their own mortality. Therefore, the person grieving by simply talking about their situation causes others to feel uncomfortable. Especially if they are angry or crying.

Another belief seems to be an attitude that grief is something one "does" after the loss of a loved one. A season in life if you will. This belief then implies that when one is "finished" grieving, they go on with their life. Move on to live the rest of their life. This may be an appropriate thought process when thinking about an acquaintance or very distant relative. For example, when I was in high school, an acquaintance who sat next to me in class went boating over spring break and drowned. My sadness was sharp, but it only lasted for a few days. In the instance of the death of a person we are deeply tied in relationship to, "getting over grief" and then going on really is does not fit reality.

For the loss of a spouse, family member, close friend or even the loss of a dream, I do not believe that grief is not a period of time that then ends and the person goes "back" to their previous life. Instead, it is a situation that causes a permanent, fundamental change in the grieving person. This person never goes "back to being" the person that they were before. The event is so life changing, the path becomes new, different.

I am not saying that this is a good thing or a bad thing. It simply is. The terrible loss that begins this journey can never be termed "good". I do know that having experienced the grief I have, makes me more confident in my ability to walk that path of pain with someone traveling a similar road. The subject is not scary or uncomfortable. I understand the pain and the lack of energy, the inability to concentrate and the need for more sleep. Although our process is unique, there is a similar character to the path as well.

It seems to me that the loss of of something or someone close to us and the grief process one inevitably follows causes a remolding of oneself. The view of the world becomes permanently changed.  The crippling sorrow carves out new strengths, new vision and new purpose. All the while finding that broken and mended heart still feels wounded as the newness awakens. It is not really a happy place just a new path. 

Faith and God's Provision

Are we trusting God for His provision for each of us? I was listening to a teacher whom I value greatly.  His subject was: Are we waiting upon the Lord in faith for direction? Or are we choosing a path of our own choosing and then asking God to bless the path we have chosen? One we have chosen without His direction? This hit me hard: Have I even asked for His direction. The speaker suggested that we ask. And then WAIT. Wait for an answer, for direction with faith and in peace.

Of course ,there is that one question I have been praying about which will produce anxiety.  The anxious question/choice. This message seemed to be written just for me. The choice I often make is to act and figure out later if I should have acted.... Just so that I am doing SOMETHING. It is an anxiety based action instead of peace until the answer arrives.

I asked again and submitted my anxiousness. The answer came immediately and appeared unrelated to the issue of my concern. To hold the hand of another who is grieving deeply.
It was rather a surprising answer. I still have no real direction in the area of my concern.  But, there is a need that I know I can fill none the less. 

I found this article full of truth.  Do 1 thing today to care for yourself.

http://thegrieftoolbox.com/article/how-handle-exhaustion-grief

Focus: Am I Looking Forward or Backward?

I can look back over the months and initially, I felt as if the illness and death of my husband was like an explosion. The resulting crater is what I called "my life." The thought of trying to rebuild and put "what I wanted" into this crater was impossible....mostly because it felt as if there was no purpose to building my life again without him, I just would exist until I could be with him again. I did not feel suicidal, I simply didn't see a point in trying to rebuild without him here to do it with me.

I believe that I moved into a new stage of grief. However, the thought of putting things I "want" into that crater (yep, its still there) is still impossible. I don't know what I want there and it feels totally overwhelming. I still feel without purpose,happiness or contentment.

Today, I was listening to a leadership training CD. The first point was about defining what you want your life to look like. Considering where I have been over the past 16 months, I would say that trying to define this is like starting a completely blank slate. Because I have simply existed, I am simply trying to start over in creating a new life.

There was a new meaning, an "aha!" moment if you will. It is that creating a life for myself is a choice. One only I can make. The pain and grief and sorrow is going to be there for some time to come......if not always. I can choose to continue to look at the life I lost, the husband I miss and my sorrow. Or I can focus on defining my life from here forward. That I will experience grief which ever choice I make. The question is where am I going to focus? This is not to say that I should ignore my grief or to stay so busy that it has no expression. However, if you have read much of what I have written in this blog, I don't think that I has been the case for me.

 This is not rocket science, it is a step forward. I thought about where to focus (besides the past), about the creation of my "new reality". The life I still have to live. Until now the thinking was just too painful to consider. The change is making the decision to choose a path, one that includes activities that have value to me personally. It includes choosing to have a vision for the future. I am sure I will continue to have difficult days here and there. But, today, it is good to have focus. 

I am Tired.

Someone told me something recently that just came back to me this morning. He is someone who has a story and pain path of his own. Someone who has some wisdom for me to consider. He said something along the lines of this: Things will get better.....if you decide that you want them to be better.

Today, I remember his words and think, yes, I do want things to be better. I have worked VERY hard this past 15 months to accomplish this. Today, I am tired of working. I am tired because I am still very sad. I am still unhappy. I've recreated a life of sorts for myself but it still feels empty. Empty and unsatisfying.

I consider myself a brave and courageous woman. I have spent decades of my adult years becoming healthy emotionally, resolving the dysfunction in my life. I have spent it learning to love and accept who God has made me. Accepting the choices of others around me. I have also worked through the grief of losing my parents.

I say this to say I am not a stranger to doing the work of grief and facing many hard choices. But this grief has been much harder. More painful and devastating. I see the path I am on and I am not nearly at a place emotionally that I seek. One of satisfaction, happiness and contentment. I have worked hard these past months to walk through the crater of destruction before me. To work through the loss of my husband, my friend, my lover and my soul mate. To build a life myself without him in it.

Today I am tired. I am tired of working toward a goal that I still do not see....even in the distance. I have no answers as to when I will get to that place I seek. All I know today is that as much as I have worked, I have not arrived.  

The Holidays are Here Again

The holidays are upon me once again. Preparing for the uncomfortable and disheartening is the rule of the day. Knowing that I am still broken although it is better than last year.

I was invited to an early Thanksgiving with a friend. It was a "celebration". People giving thanks. A large room friends and acquaintances, spouses and singles laughing and enjoying each other. I was reminded that I am not. I am still not really celebrating, not really able to give thanks and not enjoying events with my spouse. I came home and cried. My sorrow continues. I am not sure how to get past the sorrow to celebrate and give thanks.

It reminded me that the upcoming month is likely to be painful. The people around me are caring and wanting me with them, happy as well. As of right now,I am working back to that place of happy and content. However, it is allusive, a location within that is still beyond reach.

All the Little Pieces of Grief

Grief is not simply the loss of a person or a relationship. There are many different pieces to grief that one faces, weeps over and then tries to rebuild from the shattered life. It includes the interactions, the laughter, the outings, the arguments, the touch, the sorrow, the dreams and so much more. Each of these represents a facet of the life I no longer enjoy.

It is the mundane things. What should we eat for dinner? We discussed this every afternoon as he would drive home from work. Each day, every single week day. It was in some ways, our little joke. The decision that I would not make by myself. He awaited the question every day. Now the conversation does not happen, the joke is no longer present. And, I, by myself am reminded every day that he is not here to decide what to make for dinner. Every day, I have do decide what to eat by myself, remembering. It seems like a silly thing to be saddened by. But, life is made up of many little pieces, mostly mundane things becoming a facet of the life we shared.

It is the little pieces that made up our life together, that are now in a pile on the floor. Somehow, those pieces need to fit into the landscape of my life again. Only now, they will be memories of a past lifetime of love and friendship. Somehow, the mended scraps of my life will become whole again. 

Choosing Faith

I suppose I am on a slightly different path of grief this past month. It goes like this: life is ok and I am just going along. Then there is a stress of some sort that causes a crash or a paralysis or an inability to handle. I understand with this as in other forms of learning, the first step to growth is seeing and acknowledging the need for change.

I understand that this path includes God growing me. A path that will lead to new fruit of the Spirit. A closer likeness to Him. On this path He has promised abundant life, that He will bring out from the darkness. I walk this path, trusting what is yet to come. That the growth is sometimes a forward and backward pattern. It is a time for giving grace to myself. Sometimes, the only expression of my faith is to continue to put one foot in front of the other, walking forward in faith. Hebrews 11 states that 'faith is the evidence of things not seen.'

I continue to believe God's truth and it is to Him that I cling on those days when I stumble. I hold tight on those days I choose to walk forward into the unknown instead of the familiar. When I see so much  weakness within. I cling to my Lord when I just am tired of the hurt, the sadness and the pain.

Faith is purified through these difficult times. I choose to believe  when the "evidence is not yet seen". I choose to believe His word when He has promised "Abundant Life". And to "Count it all joy when you face many troubles". God is on His throne. He has not forsaken me.

November 9, 2016. The Dave after the Election-It Hurts My Heart

Every 4 years, my heart breaks a little more. I see not only the media but the people around and close to me become polar opposites, mean, rude, verbally destructive and cruel. The election day comes to an end. There are winners and losers. I have been on both sides. I understand the devastation and the gratification.

But, the thing that makes me so very sad is the emotional destruction left behind. Friends who are no longer friends with each other. Ruined relationships. Why is it that every 4 years, we create an Armageddon and choose the destruction of everything we hold dear the other 3.5 years? During that 6 month period of time, where is our common decency? Our ability to choose to treat others with the opposite viewpoint with respect? The politicians perfect that ability on stage, but chances are, they were never friends. Why do we do this among ourselves when it would never be acceptable behavior during any other season?

For those whose candidates lost yesterday, I am sorry that you hurt. For those whose candidate one yesterday, congratulations. But, I just need to let those of you in my world know that every 4 years, no matter which side wins, I HATE the carnage that is left behind. Not from the candidates, but what we allow to come between us.

Know this, I am more than the title of "Republican" or "Democrat" or even "Independent". I do not agree with everything that is espoused by anyone. However, I look at the issues and I vote my conscious based upon what I believe that America needs. I do not vote because of some 'popularity club' or "to make history". I carefully choose who I believe will be best for our Country. Just, I might add, as I make decisions in my life to live the way that my conscious directs. If you, being a friend, cannot see that my life as a whole includes this piece of me that is called my "political view" as a whole, with value and conscious. I am sorry. If you cannot love me unconditionally to espouse a different viewpoint, I guess like you, I have a right to the freedom of choice. But, it hurts me that somehow between Monday and today, I have suddenly become a different person. I suddenly have become evil.

Know this: throughout my life, I have had to make hard choices. I have not chosen the popular route. I often have taken a hard stand. And in this case, if somehow I can no longer be an acceptable friend, I don't compromise because someone (even a loved one) doesn't approve.  

Situations that Prick My Heart Just a Bit

Overwhelmed. The pain and sorrow have now changed. Now it is overwhelmed. There are so many projects left to do. Projects had planned to do together. I  go to choose supplies. The decision is no longer 'ours' to make, but all mine. These decisions should be fun. They're not. This is what pricks my heart just a bit.

I am trying to make changes in my home and in my life. However, there is a part of me working against those changes. It is trying to keep things the same. That conflict within becomes overwhelming. Emotional and exhausting. The part of me fighting to keep sameness around me shouts that I am erasing his existence. Somehow, my grief says that "I am responsible" for erasing him here. That somehow getting rid of a computer part, a picture frame or an old pair of jeans takes him away from me just that much more. Or even worse by sending these things away, like he was never here. These are the things that prick my heart more than a bit. 

And then there is the fear of "what if?" What if my car breaks down? What if my house needs fixing? What if my computer stops working? These are all "things" that he cared for in our life together. I am sure that I can figure out how to get these things done. I am capable and resourceful. However, the sense of loss of our "system" causes anxiety, overwhelming again. It is the taking back each of these responsibilities that pricks my heart just a bit.

There does not seem to be many answers except to get out and develop the resources to deal with the things I need. It all goes along with building my life again without him here to be in it. Making these choices and moving on pricks my heart some days more than others. 

There are Still Some Very Hard Days

There is sorrow and the days are long. These are the days that hibernating feels like the best. Projects are put off, eating is a chore. And little gets accomplished except the tears of grief.

These are the days it is hard to know what to do. How to support myself. How to move beyond. These are the days that feel like I have slid backward. Maybe its not really backward, there are new sorrows to be healed. New pains to resolve. It is the tears that wash away the pain....with time. 

These are the days that I choose to trust in God's plan for my life. That there is still some purpose other than my grief. I don't know what it is yet. But, my faith allows me to look forward through the rain. Knowing that at some point, there will be a door beyond the now. 

A Song For You

I heard this song last week by Donna Taggart called Jealous of the Angels. I share it hoping that it will touch you and bring comfort. Here's her you tube link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0n67dSG35L4&feature=youtu.be

Essential Oils and Emotional Support

Grieving is hard work, it requires courage and bravery. There is no road map. It is as if someone hands you a blank piece of paper and says: "here you go, here's the route to get to the other side of your cavern." The days are dark, the pain is intense and the road is long. There can be some "help" through grief support or counseling, writing in a journal, speaking with a trusted friend or pastor, loving on your dog. I have participated in all of these through the last months. There can be 'help' but the loss is a permanent situation.

Another choice I have made is to use Essential Oils to support me. It seems funny that smelling something can support emotional health. Our sense of smell  is processed in the emotional center of the brain. If you think about it, oils have been used throughout ancient history in church and other parts of of life during biblical times. My choice has been to explore the use of these as one more support that I have as I grieve. I have found that there is support for me through this medium. (See *note below).

I use oils daily for emotional support. The first is related to not feeling courageous enough to face my day. In these instances, my favorite oils are Inner Child or White Angelica. I find that I feel like the oils "gird me up" emotionally to face whatever is ahead. Some days, I have anxiety and am easily frustrated. I wear a lot of Valor, Peace & Calming and Stress away. There were days (especially early on) I experienced anger, so much anger. These oils brought calmer emotions as I wrote in my journal. Release also helped me bring acceptance of those situations.

Sleep, that allusive commodity. I needed rest and could not fall asleep. When I was asleep, I often woke up and could not sleep again. My mind would not rest. I wear Valor on my wrists. I diffuse Cedar wood and Tangerine or Lavender in my diffuser. It was not magic, it would not necessarily help immediately, but the oils would bring relaxation to my mind and my body would finally let go. There were more nights when I could sleep through the night. Sleeping is still difficult and diffusing is a regular habit.

I have come into a different season on this road called grief. I do not spend my days walking in darkness and tears or anger. I am more distractable than before. My focus has never been stellar, however, it has become more evident to me throughout my day.

The second is difficulty with the permanence of widowhood. Knowing that he will never walk in my door again and somehow, I am now on my own, forging a path without my love here beside me. As I try different oils with these struggles, I will let you know how it goes. 

*A note about quality. Essential oils have recently come into vogue and can be purchased all over the place.  Many of those oils are cosmetic grade or perfume grade. They can be laboratory produced or use of chemicals during the processing. Each of us choose the company that is best for their family. I am not trying to take that choice from you. My choice has been to use Young Living. I would simply caution you that not all oils are created equal. If the label states that the oils are "not for internal use", or "not to be inhaled: beware. There is a reason.The oils I have chosen are pure and theraputic grade oils with well documented testing. 

Encouragement for the Soul

Matthew 11:28 Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. I was reminded of this verse last night.

No words to expound. Just a reminder that Jesus walks with us through these dark times. 

"What Drives You?"

An insightful friend asked me this question the other night as I talked a little bit about the choices I have made toward my grief and healing. The question has come back to me. What has driven me towards my healing choices?

As I think about it, the real answer is that I am driven to care for myself as I grieve. To acknowledge my pain. To support myself through the healing process. My question from the beginning has been "What do I feel that I need?" I have done whatever that was. I did not allow myself to feel guilt or self centered, I did those things.

What makes these thoughts and drives interesting is that my overall feeling throughout these days has been that I am really not happy to still be here. I would really rather not have a purpose on earth. I would really rather just get it over with so that I can be with my husband again. So these intensely painful feelings seem directly opposed to the choices I have made to caring for myself over these months.

My question today for those of you grieving and even those that are not, "What drives you?" Are you striving to heal your grief? They are little baby steps whenever you are able that move you in the right direction. Are you caring for yourself? Or are your choices causing more pain and destruction in your life?

My challenge to you today is to take little steps in the path toward health and healing. Is it to see a counselor? Do it. Is it to take time out for yourself? Do it. Maybe it is to ask the question "What do I need?" Follow your heart and choose to love yourself. The biblical references are many: 1 Corinthians 6:19-Your body is the temple of the holy spirit. Ephesians 5:25- Christ loved the church (us) so much that He gave himself up for her. My personal favorite is this: Matthew 7:6- Do not throw your pearls before the swine. 

Supporting Your Grieving Friend: Their Grief is Never Finished, Their Pain is Never Gone

It will never be finished. Your grieving friend will deal with that loss for the rest of their days. It will change, it may take up less space in their life for a few days here and there, but it will NEVER go away. Never.

What does that mean for your grieving friend? Their life will never be the same again. They will never be the same again. There may be lessons, there may be (at some point) good things ahead. But, their loss will always hurt. Your friend will deal with changes in their life that were not their choice. A precious gem has been taken. Maybe part of the foundation that they counted on being part of their existence.

A good analogy for you to consider is that of an amputee. Their limb may be healed. A prosthesis may allow them to do some of what they did before. But, their life and their loss is permanent. Never the same again. The situation that developed that required them to lose the limb will always be a traumatic incident in their life. Sure, they may be able to go on. They may be able to function. But, don't ever think that the loss of that limb is forgotten, it is not. At some point, the amputee deals daily with the changes in their life. Even many years later. There may be acceptance but life is never the same again. The same is true when a loved one dies.
Please don't expect your friend to "get over it" or worse "put her big girl panties on and move on with her life". Do you really think that the life of the loved one has so little value that it 'should' be easier for your friend to pick up and go? Do you think that your opinion expresses the value of a life that is no more? If so, think again. Love knows no limits and snuffing it out is always a tragedy. Shame on you for not valuing your friends loved one's life. Really. Consider the quality of your love for your friend. Are you really helping your friend or adding to their burden? 
Remember that your grieving friend will need you to understand that their loss is huge. Even several years later, their loss continues to hurt. The changes that your friend experienced make it hard to go on. At some point, there may be acceptance, but life will never be the same.  

Walking into "The Uncomfortable" With Your Grieving Friend

Talking about death and dying in our society is somewhat taboo. It is uncomfortable and sometimes frightening. When we are faced with speaking with someone who is walking through the pain and sorrow of losing a spouse, family member or friend, there is a difficulty knowing what to say. Not knowing how to help. I think that there is 2 questions we ask ourselves in this situation are: "Oh cr@p, what do I say?" and the second is "How do I fix it and make them feel better?" Usually, there are good intentions (of course not always), but friends really don't like friends to hurt.

My best friend from high school passed away the year before my husband. He called me one day and we had one of those very painful and uncomfortable conversations. I loved him and walked through the pain and difficult conversation with him. To this day, I don't remember what I said, but at the time I hoped my words were supportive and not hurtful. I share this experience to let you know that I understand "the uncomfortable" because I have experienced it. At the time, I had not really supported someone facing their  imminent death. I experienced the tension between my ongoing life and him preparing to experience the end of his life here on earth. I experienced not knowing what to say or do to make him feel better. I know the need to help, to sooth and to eliminate "the uncomfortable." And today, I have been on the other side. I have experienced walking into the death of a spouse and the grief associated therein.

Back to the 2 questions. The answers go like this: Know that no matter what you do, your words are not going to fix the pain of grief, or the fear of death. Know that you will NOT fix it (that is not the goal).  Here is the reason. When we try to fix "the uncomfortable", we often say things that relieve "the uncomfortable". Often we feel better because we have given them an answer. However, often, those words that made you feel better do not support the person grieving. It can make them hurt more, or at minimum, they feel more alone afterwards. 
Know that your goal is to walk alongside of them. To be with them in "the uncomfortable". You choosing to walk with them through that darkness provides comfort. Is soothing. The best gift you can give them is to stay in the conversation, listen well and choose to remain "in the uncomfortable" with them.

I had a friend tell me that he "didn't know what to say." So refreshing was that for me. He simply sat in the pain with me and expressed his uncomfortable feelings to me. And I felt supported.
Listen. Even if the conversation is the third time you have heard the same thing. Your friend needs to work through the layers of their pain. Those same words have different levels of feeling for them, even though the words are the same from one conversation to the next. 

Show up. Be available. When you say, "let me know if there is anything I can do". Sadly, there is so much to do or such a fog to their grief, they may not know what they need. I had several friends that shared a meal out with me. Over the months, the care that they showed making the effort to simply be there for a time, that I didn't have to feed myself or eat alone. And they listened. They sat with me in the darkness as we ate. And I felt supported.


 

The Safe Space

There is a place where I go to be me. To allow myself whatever I need, to 'just be' without judgement. There is no need to be social or pretend. Sometimes this space is confining and oppressive. But, most times, my only goal is to care for myself. To provide the safe and non judgemental space to be only what I need to be. 

That space sometimes is my home, sometimes just my bed. There, I can write, pray, be sad, cry, hurt. Whatever the situation calls for. Some times, I live in that space for a couple of hours, other times for days. I ask myself 'What do I need right now?' And i listen to that voice inside telling me the answer. Sometimes it is productive time, other times, I nap.

Where do you go, Oh Grieving Friend, to meet your sorrow, care for yourself in the midst of your pain? Do you listen to the voice inside? Take the time you need to acknowledge your sorrow. To feel safe from the outside world and grieve. Give yourself the time it takes to go on just that one day. And then, tomorrow you can determine what you need. Concern yourself just for today, tomorrow will come soon enough. 

Expectation that Caused Disapointment

It has been just more than a year. It seems like I "should" be ready to move on. Some days, I am quite productive, others, not so much. The process of whittling down our life into my life is still overwhelming, it creates a paralysis.

I had been advised not to make major decisions until after one year. After one year, all of the "firsts" would have come and gone. I think that I developed an unconscious belief that went something like this: "If I can make it to the year mark, it will all be easier." So, although I didn't realize it but I looked to 'just hang on' until I got to that year mark. Holding on is something I have had to do in the past, so was familiar. For those weeks, things went rather smoothly.

However, I then got past the hard, painful, terribly difficult anniversary. I had made it.....however, things were not really easier. I was just a widow in her second year of widowhood. In some ways, that disappointment was even more depressing. That caused the uphill climb to be harder, the sadness deeper and I wondered why? It turns out I had set myself up for that disappointment without knowing it.

Today, my struggle is the emptiness of my life. Not to say I do not have many activities. It is the difficulty not sharing that life with my loved one. I can stand and look out over the expanse called "my life" and know that it is the "my" in that term instead of the "our" that hurts the most. 
The main question I face is will there be a time and a place in which I get back to "happy" again? I expect that this is not a short term question with a short term answer. I just know that the path in the 14th month is not much different than the 9th, 10th or 11th month.  

We Each Are a Piece of the Whole

Life is made of many pieces, like the squares in a quilt. There are values, morals, emotions activities, people we love. All of these pieces are sewn together  and create the quilt that makes up the backdrop of a life. Each square of the quilt is trimmed, stitched and then attached to the other squares.That emotion or value is now part of the whole. Some pieces are the same fabric and color, others are not. Some quilts are lined in orderly rows, evenly spaced. Other quilts are compiled in an apparently haphazard fashion with different sized pieces comprising the whole.

There are times when a quilt becomes worn and torn through the storms of life and is in need of repair. As part of that repair process, a piece here and there may be replaced with with another, stronger or different square. As we age, hopefully, our maturity comes from living through those storms. That in life is called growth.

When we compare ourselves to each other, our "quilts" are all a little different from each other. Each quilt may be similar in color and size, and depth or when comparing ourselves, someone else's quilt may be quite different. Their personality or life experiences make the squares in their quilt different....their values or views different than mine, than yours. There may be similarities when held side by side or there may be different patterns, different pieces, even different stitching. The thing about quilts is that no matter the size, shape or stitching, they serve a similar purpose. Warmth. In the same way, we are all human, all emotional beings, whether our emotional make up is similar to someone or much different. Like a quilt being for beauty and warmth, each of us, whether different or similar in style, are human.

Our personalities, our gifts are given by our Creator. Some of us  express brightly, others more softly. Some of us provide strength. Others provide the lace and still others are in the background supporting and giving depth to those bright or lacy squares. Sometimes, because of those differences, there is pull on the stitching where we move in opposite directions. As humans, we do not always agree, sometimes those differences create strength, sometimes a hole that then requires repair.

Our differences create beauty and contrast; strength and holes in the fabric. We together make our families and communities better and whole in spite of all of the differences in our emotional make up, opinions and life purpose. The key is allowing God, our creator build, repair, meld and hold the quilt together. Finding ways to make beauty out of our contrast.

The thing here is that the squares are all there for a purpose. Emotions too. They are a reflection of the climate within. Sometimes dark and stormy, other times bright and sunny. The strongest relationships are those in which each member is honored, respected and valued. Those contrasting pieces sewn together are more beautiful than one or the other by itself. 

Clearing the Rubble

I stand in a place I never wanted to be. I am starting to build a life separate from my man. It is a blank canvas awaiting me to choose a color to begin. Many of the wounds have been repaired. Never the same, but healed enough for life to continue forward. What do I choose? What do I want? The thing I still want most, I can never have. Other choices seem somewhat irrelevant. And yet, an empty existence is not what I want either.

My grief is set aside. I look out upon the expanse called "my life." It is like a city destroyed by a hurricane or bomb. I see rubble all around me. The gas tank that drives my vehicle through the rubble is often near empty. Some days, my tank provides more mileage than others.

Over the past months, I have made a few choices beginning this rebuilding process. Sadly, it still feels pretty empty. Even during weeks of busy days, I find that there is still an emptiness. It is an emptiness due to a missing love, a missing bond, a missing friend. We shared it all, together. That emptiness is not due (much anyway) to the lack of activity, but the loneliness that comes from not being able to share each day with my special love. I move into the rubble, figuring out what to do. How to make sense of the life that is now forever changed. A life that feels less important, less interesting, less valuable and less enjoyable than it once was.

I've come to the realization that the bottom line is that each day is a choice. Do I choose to live my life with value or do I choose to simply exist? Do I choose to believe that God still has a plan for my life and seek His guidance or do I choose to give up and simply wait for the end of my life here on earth?
 

It's Been 1 Year

He was taken from me one year ago today. The path of grief is not a straight path. Nor is is the same intensity one day to the next.  As I work through whatever is there, I find that the face of my grief changes. Initially, the pain was constant, overpowering all else. Later, it became like an arrow, striking at unknown times, bringing me to my knees. Lately, its like a painful scar. Some days, I can ignore it somewhat, other days, I am intensely aware.  It is always there, never back to "normal".

The other challenge of my life has been to live again, to create a life. One which has value and purpose. To go beyond my grief and sorrow and create meaning now that he is not here sharing it with me. This challenge has been harder than I would have ever dreamed. A task that many days is more than I can bear.

I find that I have activities on my calendar. I spend time and invest in the lives of those around me. I participate in activities bringing me close to others, providing love and support much akin to other seasons in my life. However, these days, there is a cover of sorrow creating a sense of uselessness, a lack of real purpose. I may laugh, I may tease, I may be fully engages, however under it all there exists a sense that is is just existence. The sunshine in my life is hidden behind a dark cloud seemingly never to return.

I spend my days climbing out of this dark hole. Many days, I have success. Some days, however, the task is more than I can bear. All days, I wonder if my life will ever be happy again? Will I reach a mountain top or will I live in the shadows? How does one live with the ongoing sorrow and become whole again? These are questions that have no answers at this point in my growth.

I walk forward one day at a time.I trust that because I am still here that God has a purpose for me still. The purpose is unclear, the way ahead is still dark. I choose to trust that God has a plan that as of yet I cannot see. I do the things I feel called to accomplish, touch those God has placed in my path. On the days that are hard, I allow myself grace.  

In the Quiet

In the times of quiet, we were together, not alone, expressed within a peace of the bonded pair. No words necessary, no strife or anxiety. The day passed in a sweetness that is now held deep in my soul.

Today, it is this quiet bond we experienced that creates a longing in my soul. The days we watched our favorite program, or worked individually side by side. In these last years, we experienced this settled and contentedness. It is these that make me ache as I remember. I lie in bed aching for that calm, that peace, that bond.

Returning to an empty home after a day enjoyed with friends is especially hard. My husband and friend is not here to share about the day. It is these nights I am particularly aware of the absence of my other half. My friend. 

Always hurting, never the same. How do I move forward? It feels like my life has little value....All feelings that come and go. The feelings are always there, simply a matter of whether I am distracted with other stuff.

How do I manage the responsibilities alone? These are those that we shared together, or ones that he was good at. Many of these feel overwhelming to me. Many are related to home maintenance issues. if something breaks.

I enjoy visiting with friends and find myself feeling happy at those moments. It is the burden of my life here alone that I find complicated and painful. It is the details. Details that I am not very good at.

Still many days that require more sleep...an afternoon nap helps me make it through the rest of the day. Thankful for friends who have stepped up to help. 

Someone Else's Shoes

Today I am thinking about how I feel about my "single status". I am with friends and spending time doing things together. There are singles and couples, young and old here today with me as we socialize and enjoy the sunny spring day.

My singleness or widowhood feels somewhat like I am wearing someone else's shoes. They are slightly too large, the arch support is wrong....something just not quite right. The "singleness" I feel is rather awkward and a little uncomfortable. The feeling now is somewhat different than than the past few months. During those times, it was "not my life", It was "not me". I pushed away the life as belonging to someone else. Today, my response is not as strong. But, the life still doesn't feel quite right. The stage is set the same way, but the characters are different. The story is diametrically opposed to the previous one. And, somehow, as I watch the story unfold, it is not familiar, it is as if my lines have all changed.

When I start my day, I have activities to accomplish. Very little feels really all that important. On occasion, I find an important purpose for one activity. Or I enjoy visit with friends. But, not really happy. In the past, there was an underlying contentment and peace in my soul. It is that which is missing besides the absence of my Love. It is the peace and contentment that is hard to live without. I feel so very much loss in this deeper part of me. No matter how much I wrap this new life in a pretty bow, it is that inside part that still is not whole.

Is Your Quilt Being Patched?

Quilts are made of many pieces, squares of material, sewn together into a whole. The purpose is beauty and warmth. Every person I meet is a quilt. They express different characteristics. Some people are bright and sunny quilts. Others are dark, functional and strong. Others are soft but need to be treated with care. All are given the gifts that they possess for God's glory. Each square represents ones logic, ones emotions, ones strengths or weaknesses. Each square created part of the whole. Each square was added by God at the beginning and throughout life to enhance the gifts He bestowed on that person. Those gifts and lessons are molded into the fabric of the quilt.

The place where this analogy breaks down is that some quilts are strong until they enter a season of life that brings them to their knees, that tears at the fabric of their life. They become torn, the stitches come apart and holes are evident. They are in need of repair and gentle care. Some of the squares need to be torn away and replaced with a different square. Our Maker and Giver of life brings others into our life to mend and repair those broken stitches. He removes and replaces the torn fabric and heals the holes. The stitches are made new. It is all a part of the healing.

I see that sometimes, that "grief" square in my quilt grows to be the size of the whole quilt. It is dark and intense and strong. It shapes my world for that day or those many days. The days I experience this are fewer than they were at the beginning. Other days, the square representing my grief is not front and center as it is on those more painful days. There exists different emotions that exist and cause a pattern of contrast with that particular square. These are the days that are easier to bear. It is as if the "other" squares provide a break in the intensity of the color of that "grief" square.

When facing such loss, the painful and difficult repairs to our quilt will mean that it is not the same as it once was. Stronger, yes. Beauty enhanced. We often cannot see the "enhancements" that are made to our quilt in the middle of the rebuild. This is the time to trust God's hand. He knows how to bring beauty in the end.  

Darkness in the Valley

"Here we are in His presence, lifting holy hands to Him. Here we are praising Jesus, for the things He's brought us through." (Dallas Holm & Praise).

This was a song I knew way back in college. One that touched me deeply. Today, it is a hard verse to sing. There has been a lot of death around me in the past 10 months. Friends, loved ones, parents of friends. There has been so many close to me who have experienced the death of a loved one. Or many deaths of loved ones.

Grief can bring one to their knees. Multiple deaths even more so. We love so deeply and the separation from that one(s) we love simply rips us in pieces. How do we stand it? Why does this happen? Can I continue on? How do I continue on? Where is God in the midst of all of this pain?

I am reminded that He carries us through the Valley of Darkness when we are so broken that we cannot take those steps ourselves. He sits with us in the darkness, holding us while we weep. He stands with us when we shake our fists in anger and when we just don't feel that we can go on.

Agony and brokenness and darkness and pain. Through it all, He is there, holding us close while we experience the pain of death and the deep sorrow afterwards. He's just there, holding us tight. Because the pain is so great, nothing else matters. But, as the sorrow and the wounds become scars, He touches us one day at a time. At first,  He leads us to quiet waters. For some, it takes months, for others it takes years. But, He is there day by day for as long as it takes. Not right away, not in a week. But, one day, there is a voice and a hand providing guidance through the valley. And as we continue on, and question it all, a voice inside begins to speak. 

The path to wholeness is not straight forward, it is not without set backs. And wholeness is not the 'same' as before. The hole becomes scar tissue....it never goes back to "normal". The path is convoluted and some days, not worth the pain. There is an emptiness that feels so very alone in our grief. There may be many people all around but it doesn't change the emptiness or loneliness caused by the hole that cannot be filled.  

What is Your Dream?

Dreams are deepest desires of One's heart. The thing that makes the words excited, breath becomes quick and the eyes smile. It is the thing that gives one a vision. I've been reading about being a dreamer. Thinking about what makes me feel excited. I have several, but today I am thinking only about one......being a wife, a companion and friend.

Today, I have learned that one of my deeply held dreams was to be a wife. I Loved being a wife, a support, a companion and friend. To be the strength when he was not, to be the one who came along side. This role caused me to feel deep, deep contentment and peace. I loved being the one he trusted with his deepest things whether they were visions or hurts. I loved being the one to protect him from the world when it was closing in. I never really understood that this was my dream, my purpose and the way God wired me. All I knew was that I felt deep contentment I enjoyed in my life and then it was ripped away.

In the midst of the darkness, it is hard to consider a dream. It hurts to know that this part of my dream has been taken away. It may come back, some day, I don't know God's plan for this part of my life. I know now that the fuel for my dream was that deeply contented feeling I had. It brought purpose to my life and a settled-ness to my soul. I was unaware of how much I was fulfilling my dream until my situation changed and he was no longer here with me.

Today, I ask myself (and you) what is the dream? How are you wired? What brings an excitement to your chest and a smile to your face? A vision that puts energy into your step, makes you short of breath as you think about it and an ache in your gut? Being a Dreamer never has been natural for me. In fact, I would say I am in the lowest percentile of Dreamers. I am leaning to put stuff down, to put legs into the things that cause me to have hope in a life that I love. Are you a Dreamer? What is it that makes your gut ache?

From Darkness into the Light

Walking back into the light after a trauma such as death of a spouse requires courage. It would be 'just easier' to stay in the darkness, accept the limitations on One's life. The excuse which many would accept, that it just hurts too much to go on living again.

The courage comes into play as one walks forward into a new life direction without the one they lost. The light shines brightly and highlights the hole and the shadows left by the absence of ones mate. The courage comes in when one has to decide what that new life will look like. What it will entail. How one will function. Even if all of the same activities continue as before, it is not the same due to the absence of that important One.

One gathers the courage to walk back into the light and create some semblance of a life once again. That life still feels empty and loneliness creeps in even if there are many around. But, initially, its just a life. Not really great. Not really worth it. Not really of any purpose. And, certainly not anything to enjoy. To dream? Not really looking to dream again either.

The dream at this juncture is an impossible one. To have my spouse back by my side. Nothing else feels as important as this one thing could be. So, that said, any other dreams are impossible to consider. Maybe the answer at this point in time is that the dream is to be able to exist in the light. To feel good about it and not be sad. One day, maybe dreams might exist again. But for today, being in the light is a huge step, and the extent of the reach. 

The Tended Garden

In the garden that is my heart grow many flowers and much fruit. There is kindness and joy. There is gentleness and the ability to hold your hand. There is also a directness of speech designed to bring forth truth. Sometimes, boundaries to highlight.

I tend my garden. I bring in others who bring light and growth to fertilize my garden. I protect that garden from weeds and thorns. The light and growth come from many sources. God's word, my experiences and His people can each bring truth.

There is a limited number of spaces available around my garden. People come and people go as God brings them and takes them on a different path, other purposes and other gardens. It is my job to make sure that in my garden, the fruit gets sun and that the flowers are not burdened by thorns, weeds and other destructive forces. My job is also to bring light and truth to the gardens of those who have invited me to be a part of their garden as well.

There are many in this world who bring destruction and mold to the garden of life. It is those who I am to keep out of the garden of my heart. I don't always know who they are at first. It is the product of their words and actions that will tell me if they bring fruit and flowers or thorns. My job here is to root out the thorns and weeds, encourage the growth of the rest as it germinates in the soil within. Bringing forth growth and and depth and a beautiful scent.

All this tending is done to hold fast to the life that God has given. The purpose to bring a beautiful garden for Him and an aroma in His nose. That is the fertile garden of my heart. 

A Different Kind of Grief

My heart is now empty, the tears have all trickled out. He's gone from me forever, until we meet again in the forevermore. That day will be glorious, another meeting of the minds. To touch him and hold him and know we live together forever in peace.

Today my heart is empty, the tears have all dripped away. Longing for my Love. The one that was ripped away. My arms are empty, there is sorrow that fills my soul and deep sadness within. There exists an emptiness in my life all these months in. 

My heart holds no more tears, they have all come and gone. I feel the longing for companionship. Aching for that deep abiding love. Missing the One who held my heart so tenderly with his gentle hands. The peace the love, the laughter we shared, never to be mine again.

The tears have all been shed but the sorrows still remain. I walk with many friends, providing much love and support. However, that one special spot that has been so full for so many years, it is that spot where the vacancy persists. The root of my anguish.

I find I do not cry much any more. My tears have apparently served the purpose of relieving my intense grief. I have some laughter and those times where I smile. I'm finding as I walk forward that the absence of tears does not equal the absence of grief. There seems to be new season of grief that has come my way. One with fewer tears, a quieter sorrow which resides deep within. An emptiness, an aloneness that no other can fill. It is that aloneness that is the root of my sorrow. 

Quest for Contentment

I really would like my life back just like before. To be happy and content with the life I had chosen. But the reality is that my life can never be just like it was before. The question at hand is whether or not, my life can include happiness, contentment and all of the rest? Can that kind of contented life be reestablished now that I am single again? A long time ago, I lived a decade as a single and had learned to be content. And then, I received the gift of a companion and spouse. I loved being part of his life. And now, I am single again. Not by choice, but by circumstance. Can I go back to the contentment of that past season? I just wonder if it is possible for my life to be happy once again?

The question always leads me back to the question of my faith. Do I believe that God has a purpose and a plan? And secondly, am I willing to rest in that plan which will the best for me?

Courage

Courage. It is sometimes an elusive entity. Sometimes it's there and is unrecognized by oneself or others around them. Sometimes, that courage is fake or simply held in place by a thread. True courage is never faked even when it is small but growing. There is a reality to it that can be felt. Other times, that courage it is attacked by those who lack it or are ungrateful.

Courage. Sometimes one sees in looking in hindsight. An entity that existed back then, but was not recognized at the time, but is today.  A piece of existence that can be acknowledged and appreciated now when it was not felt back then.

Courage. A gift not to be taken lightly. Not to be opened and offered to those who will not appreciate the gift. It is the walking forward into the vulnerable. Walking forward into the uncomfortable. It is the standing tall and following God's direction in the face of adversity.

Courage. Sometimes, it is the acceptance of God's will in the face of deep sorrow. Accepting the path that has been placed before me even though it is not what I have chosen for myself.  It is walking forward when there is sorrow on the horizon knowing that God has a plan and a purpose some place beyond the black clouds of today.

Courage. It is ALWAYS a divine gift. 

Familiar Paths

There are times in each life that causes big changes. Milestones of sorts. The progression from one school to the next, choosing and moving into a college, marriage, having children, changing jobs (especially if it requires a big move as well). Becoming a grandparent....I am sure that I am missing some but each one of these brings excitement, fear and courage, big and small decisions. Big decisions that color the life one creates for himself or herself.

Because I was single into my 30's, I made many of these big decisions as a "grown up" by myself. I faced many changes before marriage. Going to college, moving to a new state (more than once), changing jobs. I was used to building a life and making these choices.

Today as a widow, I'm finding that some of these choices feel similar as they did in my younger years. I guess the big difference here is that there is no real excitement or joy in making these choices because of my return to singleness. The decisions are just made to the best of my ability.  However, the act of making decisions on my own is not new really. They are decisions that I did not ask for, those that I did not choose. But, I am finding that the familiarity from my early years is helping me now.

I guess what I am saying is that although some of the choices before me are colored by the fact that for many years, we made choices together. Now that I am making new choices for myself again, the 'ruts' of commonness exist from before. There is some comfort in the familiar paths under the sadness of choosing alone again. 

Buckets of Love in the Field of Life

Buckets of love and friendship are sitting around in the field of my life. There are many that are full, even to overflowing.There is one bucket however that remains conspicuously unfilled. This bucket holds only memories of what was before. Nothing new has been added in the many months he's been gone. The items in this bucket are precious to me; I take out the memories and talk about them. I hold tight to the love that we shared because it is what I have left of that life, that love, that amazing man.

Sadly, the fullness of the other buckets do not affect the fullness of this bucket. They may have many current additions and new memories. Friends have added much to these buckets, the ones labeled friends. However, the bucket labeled Buddy sits alone and unchanged all these months later.

As I walk this new life, I assume that there might be a new bucket in my future, one that would hold memories from a new companion, a new love, a new special one in my life. However, I wonder if even then, his bucket would not have the ability to change the emptiness of the bucket marked Buddy. It seems like that bucket will remain forever the way it is now. Full of past memories, but with nothing new added. Newly filled only with the tears of my sorrow and pain.

It makes sense to me that as much as I might want to rush out and try to fill this special bucket again: trying to fill it with activity, with love, with friends or destructive activities. The truth is that this bucket will always remain a Tribute to the one who came first, the one who was my first love, the man who God used to make me whole.

Other buckets can be filled providing kindness and love. There may be another in the future whose bucket can be mine. However, this bucket labeled Buddy, his bucket can't be changed. It is his bucket and his alone. One I can come back to and hold tightly. But, his bucket will always remain in the condition it was just before he left. There is nothing I can do to make his bucket full of new and happy memories again.

The Mountain, The Energy, The Accomplishments

There is a mountain of belongings that each contain a cup of sadness sitting in my home. Things that create a wall of exhaustion just thinking about trying to tackle even just one box, one drawer, or one shelf. I have been wondering where the energy would come from to start this massive and painful project. So far, I have not yet gone through one box. 

However, the desire to have a room organized for myself became a strong enough desire to overcome the exhaustion. It is a step to reclaiming my home, one step towards addressing the mountain. I have cleaned the carpet, rearranged furniture and have a room that now belongs to me again. A room where the memories are less intense. Not yet a room that I love, but one where I have put some of that energy toward myself instead of my sorrow.

I hope that this step will provide the energy to follow the next project, reclaiming the next room. And then, the next. One day, I may be able to address the mountain, for just moving some of the boxes bring the sorrow to the front. So for now, the rest of his clothes, the mountain and the rest will have to wait until I have the energy to face them. For this day, this week and this time, I have made a step in the direction, funneling energy into myself here at home. It has been a day long coming, a day I can be thankful for and a day that was spent trying to make sense of it all again. 

The Door Behind, The Door In Front of Me

I feel like I am moving ahead with my life. I am building it with activities that interest me. I have new friends, I enjoy the company of old friends. With that said, it still feels like my sadness is tied to the fact that in order to rebuild this thing called "my life", I have to let go of his hand. To walk ahead and leave him behind, to move on. He is left back in that part of my life where he was, where he lived but does not go further ahead with me.

Each day, I feel like I walk farther away from that spot where he stays. I don't want to leave him there. I want to stay there and somehow still be with him. I need to keep  him with me as I walk forward into this new life, but it doesn't feel possible. It feels like I have to make a choice. Either I walk forward without him OR I stay back in that spot and try to be with him.

My head knows that trying to stay there is an illusion because he's not really there. He has moved on to his new life, his life ever after. So, if I stay where he was, the only thing I am cling to is ashes. But, emotionally, my heart says go back there, stay with him. Hold onto what was. And by clinging to what is past, I sacrifice the gift of a new life that God, the Creator of Life has for me now.

There is this tug of war happening inside of me. The "want" and "don't want" struggling for top spot. The "memories" warring with the "here & now". That stubborn part of me that doesn't want to let go. It doesn't know how to let go.

The saying, "one must close the door behind me to open the door in front of me" comes to mind. I guess part of the reason this feels impossible is that I want Buddy to continue to be a part of my life and right now I don't know how to take him with me. I think this is the biggest reason. Secondly, the closing of the door behind me is shutting out the familiar, the comfortable. And the door in front of me (which is not open yet) holds the unknown, the uncertain and therefore, the uncomfortable. 

Memories of Ambulances, Gawkers and One Act of Kindness.

I stand in the parking lot  and I hear sirens all around. Not just one or 2 but many scream on.  Every couple of minutes another ambulance speeds past the lot. People getting out of their cars all turn around and watch the parade of ambulances. The spectacle to watch. I choose to ignore to keep walking to the store. Tears come of their own volition, memories raw.

I have been reminded of those many trips to the hospital right at the end of his life. The seizures, the fright, the anxiety involved. Do I call them, do I not, is it time for the professionals to help me decide what to do to care for him with this new or more difficult problem? They take him to the ambulance and as I leave too, the people gawking and watching "the show". It seems to unhelpful, so rude and unkind. There is nothing to do but go on with the important ignoring the rest.

Off to the hospital we go, there is urgency needed. I am also reminded of the time that I followed the ambulance and suddenly it stopped at the side of the road. I had to continue on, my heart in my throat. I say to myself "Oh no, that is not good".

Memories come back in a flash just because of  sirens. Feeling come back I had never processed about the uncaring behavior of neighbors. I keep on walking with my head bowed down low. I choose not to be one of the rude ones gawking by the side. Yet, those memories still hurt and make me stumble in my path. The sorrow and the hard heartedness of strangers in life.

Apparently they have never suffered with the behavior and the like. Or they would be like another neighbor who was in a similar plight. She left a tea rose on our porch in the night. With a note for good wishes and prayer. Not really knowing us but taking the time to care.

Oh how I wish I can be like that one, to shed some kindness instead of gawking from afar. To touch a loved one, knowing what it's like. To spread love and kindness in the midst of this life. 

Walking in a New Direction

I guess you could call it a sign moving beyond my grief. It could also be me beginning to take care of my needs outside of grief. Starting to think about work. A set structure seems like a good choice, almost more important than the paycheck. 

A big question for me is how much work? Where is the balance between processing grief and moving on? Will the work give me another focus? There are no specific answers as the process is unique one person to the next.

There is also the logistical questions involved. I did not even own an electronic copy of my resume. The process of looking for employment has changed drastically. Craigslist, Career Builder, online applications, online cover letters. Email responses to those electronic contacts. Sending out the file and then getting no response. Wondering if it went anywhere?

What industry do I choose? The most recent one we did together. Is it a good choice? Can I do that again? Do I want to do that again? Will each day just remind me of my loss? It is time to move away from the sorrow, away from the memory. 

I have other strengths and those create an interest in me,  a new direction, turning over a new leaf. Work that does not keep him at the forefront giving my grief a rest. Using my gifts for another purpose. Yes, these positions are interesting, not sad. These are worth pursuing. We shall see what God has in mind.  
My favorite application question is this: "May we call your current employer?" Sure, I've been my own supervisor for 2 decades. You want to speak to my supervisor? Sure. 

The Tape Inside Your Head.

What is the message you tell yourself each day? Do you build yourself up or tear yourself down? 

We each have a "tape" in the back of our heads that plays, usually we are unaware of its message. That message often causes our behavior/choices. Causes our success or failure in many situations. What is the message you are giving yourself? And, that unconscious message affects the message you give to others about yourself or about them.

I heard these words from a talk that a soccer coach was giving. It reminded me of the first time I was given this same information from a counselor. These messages we give ourselves can directly affect our feelings about ourselves, our success in achieving a goal. It can also affect our message to another either building them up or tearing them down. What does that message say?

A Birthday Has Come and Gone

A birthday has come and although it was nice, my ongoing grief muted the joy of the day. The pain was not as intense as some other holidays I have faced since his death. But, it was just not the happy event of previous years. When I compare this one with the rest, what is missing, of course, is the close bond and friend, the Love of my life. We shared such a closeness that now has been taken away from me.
My heart is just lonely and I'm not sure just how to bring him with me into the rest of my days. That seems to be the question I face day after day. How is it possible to bring him along? He would want me happy, to not live in this all consuming grief forever. He will always have a place in my heart and my mind. And I know without a doubt that he would want me to move along.

How does one move right along after such loss? How do I live a life after he was torn away? How do I keep him with me and move in the direction that my path takes one day at a time? Questions, questions, each day I sigh. If I had answers the path would be more clear. 

Finding Another Grocery Store....Preserving My Peace

I went into the grocery store to pick up some chicken. Not my favorite store, but its the once closest to my house. Sadly, the days when Buddy was so very ill, I went here often because I needed to make my purchases and get home quickly afterwards.

This store has no memories except the ones attached to his illness. There are items I purchased often during those times that I have never regularly purchased before and do not now. I walk by the shelves that house those items. Things I no longer purchase. Things that remind me of him or his illness or his needs or his medications or his difficulties during treatment. It is all there. It is those items that bring the sadness to the forefront once again. 

I need to find another store to buy my food. This deep sadness never strikes when I shop in other stores. Just this one store holds the power to bring sorrow. I assume that it will always bring some pain here and again. I know it won't always be this sharp and difficult hurt. But, I guess I feel like I shouldn't hurt at all. If there are other stores where the pain never joins me, then why subject myself to these difficult and hurtful times? I just need to take care to shop elsewhere, at least for now. 

Valentine's Day, Another of Those 1st Holidays

Valentine's Day, the celebration of love. It was not his favorite holiday. In general, he felt that most holidays were overblown. He was of the belief that each day was to be celebrated and each holiday was 'just another day'. I on the other hand, appreciated taking a day to focus and celebrate our love. Not in the commercial way of spending a bunch of money. But, an acknowledgment of our love, the success of our marriage and our great friendship. It was a day in these last years, generally stayed home and had a special dinner.

Today has been a hard day. It took me several hours to figure out that I was struggling. So, the goal for my day became taking a shower and eating. It has been an exhausting day filled with sorrow and sadness. Missing my best friend and companion. Missing some of our simple traditions. I will eat my dinner alone tonight and probably either watch a movie or go to bed and read. It is the struggle and a success of sorts to make it through another of these 1st holidays.

It is days like today that make me wonder if I will be happy again. As it is, my grief takes up so much space in my heart, in my head and in my life. I trust that it is possible. That one day, in my future there will be light again. At this point, I don't see it. I have days that are not as hard, and days that are much harder. But none feel like they are happy days.

The next holiday of the 1st holidays is my birthday. Hard because it is less than a week away. Easier because I have often chosen an activity for myself to do on that day, just for myself. I am sure it will be bitter sweet.

Today has all but come to a close. Thankful it's almost over. 

An Unclear Direction

There is this place that I currently live. It is located in a valley. On one side of me is a mountain. Near the top is where my life used to be. Sometimes, I was near the very top, it was full of joy, enthusiasm and sparkle. There is also some places up there that I lived some days. Like being in the crevices. There were more clouds, and difficulties, but still near the mountain top. Times there were hard, but I would get back to the sunshine and sparkle without much difficulty.

It has been awhile since I've existed in either the crevices or the sparkle up on that mountain. It's been almost 2 years. Two years since a terminal diagnosis completely changed the existence I called life. That was the day our lives were forever changed.

I am a widow now, it's been 7 months. And, I continue to find myself in this valley of grief. I look up and see this place that I used to live. The place where life's normal ups and downs were just life. There was happy and sad and happy again. I think that my path will lead me in the general direction again. Up the side of the mountain to somewhere that will be my new "normal". I assume that my direction will not lead to exactly where I used to exist because my life is so different now. But, up on that mountain somewhere.

The dilemma that I face as I look up these days is that I see the place up there that is familiar, in the general direction that I think I should go. However, the beginning of the trail that I take to get up there is not clear to me. I don't know how to get to the beginning of that path. I know where I need to get to, but emotionally don't know how to get there.

I realize that at some point, I need to move on with my life. I've accepted the fact that sitting here in the valley clinging to my grief does not really keep me close to him as I my heart tells me it will. What I accomplish is to cling to my pain. I realize that this counterproductive. To think that keeping myself in my pain in the hopes that I will hold onto my Love simply keeps me from being free to live the life that God apparently still has for me to live.

As I turn around to move in the direction of the trailhead, I don't see it. The path I need to take is not clear to me at this juncture. I feel a little bit in limbo. I have accepted the fact that clinging to my pain is not a healthy option for me emotionally. I do not know how I can keep him close or whether that is even possible from my place in life.

I am ready to move onto the next place in my journey. But I am not sure where to go, or how to begin. And, the hardest part of all is knowing that no matter where this next path leads, the sorrow and the pain await me there. Because no matter where I go on this path called 'my life', he is not longer here. No longer part of the fabric of my existence. He is only here in my thoughts and memories. Somehow, it is not enough. It feels as if it will never be enough.

I wonder if those feelings are the reason that I am in limbo. Because I am not ready yet to move on. That once these feelings are more resolved, the trailhead will be clear and I can  continue the journey up the side of the mountain. 

The Discussion Between My Head and My Heart

My head knows it takes the effort to move forward to put my life back together. My heart is not ready yet. The idea of moving forward without that man that I loved being physically here is heart wrenching.

My head knows that I have him with me wherever I go. My heart says, "what if I forget?" "What if I lose more of him?" My head knows that I have decades of memories and conversations and love that I can keep with me forever. My heart says "But, he's not here to be with me now." There is this ongoing discussion between my head and my heart. We were always together and now I am alone. Not only is he missing in building our life, but that unity, that bond, that part of me that he occupied is now empty. I feel extraordinarily all alone. The next step for me is to grow. To build a life that is mine and mine alone. I know intellectually that this is the next step. But emotionally, I don't know where to begin.

It is exhausting. To the point that many days, I just have to shut down. To find a way to take a break. Read a book, watch a movie. It's a way of escape. Awhile back, I was told that some days, moving forward means that I get out of bed, and maybe shower. Those days are still with me every once in a while. Today has been just one of those days. 

3 Gifts, 3 Expressions of My Life

I received 3 ornaments as gifts in the past weeks. Each ornament highlights a different part of me. Three expressions of accomplishment achieved or values that I feel strongly about. Each friend saw something in their gift that reminded them of me. I am struck by the fact that these 3 friends have honored me with 3 representations of different aspects of or values in my life. Each friend I know from a different season of my life as well. Thank you Eden, Kori and Janet. 

The first is an ornament made from wine corks. It is shaped in the configuration of a cluster of grapes and then decorated with green glitter and other fun stuff. It is very lightweight and pretty.

It honors the work Buddy and I did in creating his winery dream. We created something from nothing. He had a dream, God opened doors and we followed the path. There were many anxieties and fears, especially at the beginning. We overcame the fear to follow in that path. Although there were many struggles and ultimately, we closed due his illness, it was a part of our lives for many years, An accomplishment to be remembered and celebrated.  And, of course, it is made with sparkly stuff. I  like sparkly stuff....a lot.

The second is a round red ornament with a big red bow that says " I love my RESCUE DOG" in big bold letters. And it has paw prints all around. It is a large ornament and makes a statement in a bold fashion. That is something I appreciate.
Especially in the past 8-9 years, adopting homeless dogs has become my thing. It started with Bear, a 9 year old lab/greyhound mix that the humane society was having difficulty finding a home for because he was 9 and probably because he was black. He had been there for 3 months when we took him home. All of the dogs we have added to our family since then have been rescues. 
I believe that most rescue pups have various emotional issues. They struggle because of the life they were born into or the situation developed and they eventually ended up homeless. Some of these dogs, I would probably not be qualified to help, in fact there are some aggression issues that would be just over the top for me to be able to manage. However, there are some problems I can work handle. Especially as I learned more about the "pack and alpha mentality". I feel good that with all of my dogs, rescues and not, I have learned more about being the leader. It has helped me manage them better. And when there is a pup with some issues, I have found that I can provide a home, provide love, stability and structure. To work with those insecurities and personality issues so that they can settle, enjoy life and be happy makes me happy. 

The 3rd ornament came in the mail just this past week. It is made with 2 different metals. 
The first is pewter color in the shape of a leaf and attached to the stem is a smaller piece of copper colored metal that is a sign.It says, "Every season tells a new story, 2015". It was given to me not so much as an ornament for my tree, but to celebrate this blog and my venture into the world of writing. It was meant to help me find a celebration in and amongst my grief. That in spite of the blackness in my world right now, there are some stars sparkling if I choose to see them.
This ornament is unique. Its craftsmanship is beautiful but because of the materials it is made from, it is heavier than most ornaments. And it is the weight of it that speaks to me right now.The weight of this leaf represents a few different messages to me.

The weight of it represents the strength that I see in it my character, my message, my gifts. I have generally viewed myself as "sturdy" more than "decorative". God made me a force, a leader and a friend. Sometimes, that involves speaking the truth in love. Speaking with love sometimes means speaking with gentleness, sometimes with humor and other times with directness. Always, with the intention of bringing forth the light in someone else. It is not always easy or fun. That is where the sturdiness comes in.
 
Secondly, in regards to our marriage I look back and see myself as supporting structure in the building  that was our life. I viewed myself as a stable and strong part of the structure we became together. Maybe not a foundation but more of a support beam that was also a safe haven. A place where there was protection from the storms we encountered.

And lastly, the direct message engraved upon the copper. I did not  ask for or want the changes that have been brought into my life in the past 2 years with Buddy's illness and death. My expectation and hope was that we would live a long life and grow old together. However, that is not what I was given. God has a different plan for me now. The bible says, "I have come that you might have life, and have it more abundantly." There is a new story in this new season of my life. There is a door to walk through, something else to accomplish. A new purpose.

I have struggled to be open to this new life, the abundant life. The one without my dear husband and friend. That new purpose, the open door, it is there, awaiting my acceptance and the willingness to walk through that open door. It is that weight of the ornament that speaks to the strength required to let go of my grief and walk through that open door. 

My Dearest One

My Dearest One,

I hope you know how much I still love you. My love is held into the deepest part of me. Somehow, I have to move on from the place I exist right now. I live in this confined space while grasping to hold onto what little I have left of you here with me. I've been afraid to move on to rebuild who I am now because I am afraid that if I let go of this tight grasp I have, I will loose the rest of you. But, clinging to my grief is not really holding onto you. It is clinging to my grief and sadness. It's not you that I hold onto, its my pain and suffering.

Today, I am going to choose to cling to your love for me, your memory and all of the amazing things you taught me. To cling to the memory of who you were in my life and who we were together. Today, I will take you with me wherever I go. I will keep the essence of who you were close to me. And, all of what you meant to me. Those are the things I will cling to.

Today, I will begin to recognize the difference between clinging to the hurt, the pain and the grief verses clinging to you, the man who loved and held me tight. I realize that your wish for me would be to live my life well. To use my gifts that God has given me to their fullest. Your wish for me would be to complete the race God has set before me. And, also to know that if I spent the rest of my life sad and miserable, you would feel grief that I allowed your illness and death to put a dark sheath over the rest of my days. In life, you never wanted me to be hurt or to be sad and if I spent the rest of my days that way, you would be sad.

You were my greatest support, my biggest cheering section whatever I did. Your desire for me would be to be healed and whole. To be the woman you met, married and appreciated. And so today, I cling to you, move forward in those new ventures. And, bring you along as I shed my deep sorrow.

I am sure that there will still be tears and heartache, but for today, I cling to you, your memory and all you mean to me. You are my love, my support, my Dearest One. 

Am I Looking Back Instead of Forward?

Over the past months, I've traveled to a couple of places my husband and I traveled to in the past. They were 2 destinations in which I have very fond memories. I have also attended a local event that we have gone to every year for the past decade. In each case, I had hoped to bring him closer to me. And, in each case, that did not happen. I created new memories. I reconnected with friends we've seen over the years at that annual event. But, in each case, I was still alone. I found that in some instances, I created new memories that did not involve him. But, I felt no closer to him than I do here at home. And that, in and of itself created sadness for me. 

And so, I have been looking at my choices, why I went to those places. What were my expectations? And, I found that I was trying to recreate the experience from before. I was trying to experience the fun and the relationship and the love we shared simply with geography. And, when that didn't happen, I was disappointed. My grief was touched anew because of the unrealized expectations that I placed on the experience, the geography.

Somehow, I need to remember the memories. Cherish and hold them close. However, it is necessary for me to build my own life now. My own memories. My own experiences. To look on the activities I choose for my own enjoyment, rather than trying to bring him close. The process requires me to look forward rather than back.

My current struggle with this is because my heart says, "I don't wanna" (hear the 3 year old whiney voice). I'm afraid if I move forward, I will leave him behind. That somehow, I will loose all of my relationship, all of his memory. My head knows that this is not true. That his memory will be with me always. The life and memories we enjoyed are mine forever. But, my heart is not ready to believe this yet. My heart is not ready to turn ahead and walk forward, It is still gripping the past.

So, for now, I think that rather than making old choices to bring back memories, I would be better off trying to make new choices, new destinations, new activities that are for my own enjoyment. And then, somehow, learn to bring him along. Make him the passenger, not the focus.