how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

very rough spell

i'm going through what my grandmother used to refer to as a "rough spell." it was used in her day for any time when a family or person was having a hard time due either to financial hardships, ill health, or grief. i've got two out of the three. i am having a hard time financially but that is just something to endure and keep working my backside off to cope with. the worst is the grief.

i don't know if i was ever actually doing "better" in the six months since my husband died but i know i am definitely doing a bit worse. i am having a very difficult time vocalizing my feelings because i look at someone and can't say it. here i am alone and can write it. it's not my voice but my heart that is saying it and there is no one for me to look at and feel any kind of connection to start the tears.

i'm crying all the time again. it's been 6 months. his birthday is Aug. 5th. he would have been 57. Aug. 11th is our wedding anniversary. it is also the anniversary of our first date. together 8 years, married for 7 years. only 8 years with a man to whom i gave my whole heart and soul. i would have given my life for him but i wasn't given the option.

i'm planning my daughter's wedding and i'm trying hard to feel happy, but i cannot right now. maybe on the actual day i will feel something other than this deep intense grief. for the short time that i get to actually be with my daughter making plans, fitting her to her dress and veil, going with her to pick up the fabrics, ribbon, and things she wants, i can fake it. i swallow hard and tell myself she is my little love and very much deserves a mom who is all there and doesn't unload on her. it can wait. she knows though. she knows that i'm hurting and she's been so good. i try to make her laugh which is easy to do. i am a very good liar. always have been.

i lied to my children when they were little about why their dad didn't seem to like mom. i lied to myself that i could take it one more week, one more day, let the kids get a little older. i lied to him to save myself from harsher beratings. and now i'm sort of lying to my children about how i'm feeling inside. maybe if i lie enough even i'll start to believe it but i don't think so. all i have to do is look at his picture, see his smile, the laughter in his eyes, and his broad back in the photos where he's walking ahead of me and i crumble.

crumble is the perfect word.

"i sat evaluating myself. i decided to lie down." i'm not sure where i read that but i was still in junior high school and i remember it was during the summer of love - '68. i think it was the poet Rod McKuen. whomever wrote it, it also fits my mood perfectly.

intense grief has taken over again and all i want to do is lay down and cry. i miss him so.

"oh, come through the darkness and save me
for i am alone."


Suddenwidow said...

(((HUGS))). I love your quote. I hope the time with your daughter brings you some peace.

My new favorite quote is from Dr. Suess. "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." I know that's hard but I try to think of it once a day and force myself to smile. For a minute, I think of only loving memories and I smile. They're turning into moments that I look forward to each day.

Thinking of you as you go through your next "firsts".

(BTW, we are working on choosing fabrics. It is taking longer than I thought it would because it's harder than I thought it would be. But the process/tears/memories are healing.)

Widow in the Middle said...

I hope you don't believe there is something wrong with you for feeling such intense grief six months after your husband's death. I think that the real grief work comes about six months after a loved one's death - the first weeks and months after it, we are numb with the shock, disbelief and then the busy work in planning the various services. Once all the dust settles, we finally have the opportunity to really reflect on our loss and that is when it really all hits us! I wish people understood this fact and would save all the hovering and casseroles for later in the grief process. People seem to want to do something in those early days but I found that when I really needed the support it was in the long, lonely months afterward.

Back in January as I faced my divorce mediation, I became extremely depressed and grief struck. Part of it had to do with the cold winter weather but also we had run out of money and the financial strain was very tough. I only wanted to be alone with my grief and I stopped socializing. My therapist wisely advised me to come up from my depression every now and then to take some gulps of air. She said to be at a place where you are in a deep, dark tunnel without seeing any signs of light is too much for a human being to endure for long periods of time. She encouraged me to socialize with my friends even if I didn't want to - then go back to my deep, dark tunnel.

I know I'm not with you in person but I am out here and listening to the words of your heart.

Ann said...

It is not uncommon at all to still be greif stricken 6 months out. I am counseling with a friend who just lost his wife and all I can tell him is that it will get better, but it will get worse before it gets better. I know that doesn't help. That's the thing. Nothing helps, nothing can change the only thing you want changed. . . and I am sorry.

Anonymous said...


Wish I knew what to say, thinking of you.

Supa Dupa Fresh said...

{{supa huge hugs}}

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