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.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

intimate thoughts

i miss him. it is not really getting any better. it is just longer between heart-wrenching crying jags.

"being in grief, it turns out, is not unlike being in love. in both states, the imagination is entirely occupied with one person … everything that touches us seems to relate back to that center; there is no other emotional life, no place outside the universe of feeling centered on the pivotal figure." ~ Mark Doty

i had always sort of wanted to wander around this place, inside as well as out. it is an old place that had its exterior done over after a huge storm one season. but i have seen photos of its insides. just a few, in the basement of the Rockport Library where the historical documents are kept. it has its secrets. i always wanted the chance to explore this place on my own. now i only dream about it.

"to live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it:
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go."
~ Mary Oliver, “In Blackwater Woods

"there is eloquence in screaming." ~ Patrick Jones
and i have screamed into my pillow quite a lot of late.
especially with this third bout of pneumonia in this year of our Lord 2011.
i need his care and comfort.
i need his hot tea.
i need his warm body to keep mine warm.
i need his cool cloths to keep my fever down.
i need his big hands to rub that stinky Vick's on my chest that he never minded doing,
so i can breathe.
when i had pneumonia while he was alive,
he would put his large, warm hand on my chest and calm my fears,
help me relax to find my breath.
he would breathe with me,
unison,
symmetry,
each inhale a little deeper than the one before.
i want him back.
3 times in 8 months is too much to do alone.
i think the worst part of this is the incessant remembering that i couldn't save him.
no one could save him.
in this day and age of commercials saying,
"i survived the widow-maker; take this pill and you can, too,"
no one could save him.
least of all me.
and he is better, handsomer, cuter, more needed by me than those actors on those commercials.
i love him best of all.
i need him most of all.
"i have ever since {he died} seemed to myself broken off from mankind; a kind of solitary wanderer in the wild of life, without any direction, or fixed point of view;
a gloomy gazer on the world to which i have little relation."
~ Samuel Johnson

i sometimes wonder how i am doing this alone and then i remember,
i don't have a choice.

they tell you, "just breathe."
easier said than ..........

6 comments:

judemiller1 said...

I am so sorry you have pneumonia--again!!! Good Heavens Dear Heart. Please be sure and doctor it so it doesn't get worse--we don't want you in hospital!!!

Anonymous said...

Dear Susan,
I'm so glad to have found your blog again but I am also sorry to know that you are ill. I hope you get better soon.
Best wishes, Cathy Leach

Debbie said...

So sorry that you're ill again. Not fair at all. Grief sure destroys immune systems, along with everything else in its path. I sure can relate to "it is not really getting any better. it is just longer between heart-wrenching crying jags". The grief is still as deep as ever. It's just easier to put it aside and ignore the heart wrenches to deal with the day and responsibilities until I have time after the kids are in bed to go into the grief. But it's still occupying a large space in my brain every second of every day. Miss is such a little word to describe what his absence makes me feel, but there aren't words to describe this ache. I sure know what you mean about hating those stupid commercials too. They still make me cringe. I hope you've seen the doctor and are feeling better soon. I'm sorry you don't have Carl taking care of you when you are feeling ill. Wishing you peace.

megan said...

Samuel Johnson - good one. Thank you s.
xo

abandonedsouls said...

Judy, saw the doc. got the meds. i'll be okay.

Cathy, glad you found me again, too.

Debbie, just another day in the life of.... simply put, i'm lost without him. he was my life. so are my children but they have their own lives. he was my everyday life. my smile and my breath.

megan, one of my favorites in a collection of quotes that still don't say how i feel. but it's come the closest.

Suzann said...

So sorry you are ill, Susan. I send my love and golden light on angel wings to you. Feel better.

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