in the company of loneliness

for those who asked:  my Sanctuary at the moment.  still working on it.

looking down into my foyer.  the hanging on the door to the right blocks the window that looks into the garage.

 still working on it, most of my boxes are unpacked and most of the painting is done.

 i do have almost all my beloved books out in places....like here

 and the stairwell.

 these photos are a couple of weeks old and more has been done...

 but i haven't posted in a while and wanted to let any readers who may still be out there that

i am still here.

i love my Sanctuary.  it's more than home, it really is a place to come hide, to relax, to be myself.  i do feel safe here.  

i miss him a great deal but missing him is like walking and talking with someone who truly understands what i've been through/am going through.  i talk to him about things.  mostly i talk to myself though.  i am talking to my grief which resides inside me; deep inside me where i do not let anyone see.

people expect me to "miss" my husband.  but they do not understand the depth of that loss as it plays out for me on a daily basis.  i would love some "magic tea."  {you would have to be a reader from the beginning to understand that one.}  i would love to take a walk with him around here.  i would dearly love to have his advice, thoughts on my ever-aching arm ~ la tennis elbow that i cannot get fixed.

i miss all the minute things that go in to being part of a mated pair.  i am lost out here but that intense loneliness i feel is almost like company.

i walk my dogs in the silence that surrounds my rural Sanctuary and feel the wind on my skin, through my hair, pulling on my jacket.  it feels wonderful.  the warmth of the setting sun on my face and the feel of the coolness of the rising darkness on my back make me feel small but important.  it's a communing with nature coupled with the gratefulness in my heart for where i live now that i think is healing.

i am a widow.  i have no pull for being with others, for dates, for outings.  i take myself out to supper if i wish to go and i go in the company of a book.  i do what i want without fretting anymore about friendships from anyone.  i talk to my Dragon and to myself about how i feel and know that no one; no therapist, no support group, no counselor will ever take the time to know me and my story to be there for me.  i can do this alone. 

there was a time when there were no grief therapists, no support groups, or counselors.  people grieved their own way all the time.  the first 3 years were hard and i tried to find someone, believing that i needed outside help.  being rebuffed time and again, i would return home to lick my wounds and feel bad about myself.  i would feel unworthy, unimportant.

as more time passed, now 5 years, 8 months, i have struggled for my job, this place, and my right to be who i am.  so many others, grieving ships that have passed me in the darkness leaving me on my makeshift raft, but you know?  i'm doing okay.

i have my daughter, son, and grandson.  i have two little dogs who love my unconditionally.  i am working at a job that is trying to drain my strength both physically and emotionally but i do not let it.  someone can crush a flower, grind it into the dirt, and in a little while, a tiny green shoot comes up again.  like a tiny little middle finger flipping us all off.  i love that about flowers.

i am still grieving.  i always will.  but it is not an unhealthy grief.  it is the missing of someone who cannot be replaced, who cannot be forgotten, who will never be out of my life.  i love him.  he was an awesome man.

i am grieving and lonely at times, but that loneliness keeps me company.  i know it so well.  and it knows me.  i can talk a lot to it and it listens to me.  it nods it's head understanding what i am feeling.

it lets the wind caress my hair.  it has the sun shine on my face and warm it for those last few moments before it sets.

it also keeps the cool, rising darkness at my back.  

i said it was company.  i never said we were friends.

sanctuary

i am starting the move to my sanctuary.

i have pictures.

i'm painting it and making it my own.

 the walls of the stairwell will be lavender.

my street.

i'll be moving in by August 1st.

i am in love with this space, with the yard, the street,

the peace and quiet.

i will post more photos as i get moved in.

i just wanted anyone who still reads this blog to know

that i am doing this; that this is my choice.

this is part of my journey to find a place for me that is all mine.

i got the transfer to the new store.

my fingers are crossed for a gentler life.

for a quieter life.

for a less stress-filled life.

59 months still.......

since he died, i've crossed paths with quite a few widows and widowers.  i know everyone is on their own journey, feel differently, react differently.  it has been interesting to be the wallflower; to watch everyone, hear from them, hear about them.

so many have done very well.  a great deal have found new loves and married.

very few of the first ones to write to me here are actually still reading or writing anymore.  their lives are busy and reading one widow's blog?  keeping up with her here?  just no incentive anymore.

i'm still here though.  i'm not really in the same place emotionally that i was during that first year, but, to be honest, i am not too far removed from it.

i am still in the same vicinity that i was.  i'm wandering, i guess.

i have thought about this a great deal of late.  i am not still shell-shocked.  he has died.  i have a full-time job and work very hard for my money.  i count pennies very carefully.

i am a new grandmother.  i love that baby and have wonderful ideas of what i can teach him, of just playing with him.  grief has not tainted this blessing.

i do not want to take off my rings.  i do not want to date, or meet anyone.  i do not care about finding a friend anymore.  i am very used to being alone now.  it is not something i would have chosen, but i have grown accustomed to it.  it suits me.

i think if any one of the people who used to read all the time, at the beginning, were to stop by now -- just to see -- they might be concerned, or bored, depending upon how they feel about me.

i am still in month 59 with that 5 year mark - that 60th month - staring at me, glaring at me.  and i feel apprehensive about it.  5 years is a long time.  5 years is nothing compared to.........

i think i'll go to bed and try to sleep.  sleep is a good escape from the impending agony of hitting that 5th year.  

unanswerable questions

are you safe and happy?

do you miss me?

can you see me?

if so are you proud of me?

do you still love me?

i've lost so much weight; one third of what i used to weigh.

do you think i'm still pretty, or prettier?

my blonde hair has silver threads through it now.

do you think it looks like moonlight?

are you waiting for me?

can you come get me when it's my time to leave?

were you scared?

could you hear me and understand me?

did it make it easier?

do you know how much i love you?

is it okay for me to live like i am, loving you like i do?

you know i can't do it any other way because i love you so much.

remember what we had?  do you remember the way we were?

how can i live any other way than to live honoring you and simply being the way i am?

i guess that's all.

i miss you.

i wish you could go with me back to the doctor's on Monday.

i'm tired.

i love you.

i have to go to work now.

please watch over me if you're allowed to.

longing, grief, melancholia ~ just another August

August has already hit hard.  sleepless.  memories and pain over the loss at getting any chance to create more.

his birthday has passed.  he will always be to me the age he was when he died.  handsome with his silvery white hair and beard. the color of moonlight.  his eyes with their devilish gleam.  his booming laugh.  he will never age. he will never become infirmed with a slow, old man's gate or trembling hands.  he will always be, in my memories, virile, active, a Dragon among men.  so powerful an image.  if only you could have seen him climbing over the rocks beside the ocean where we lived together.  fearless.

he was the one who should have lived.  he had so much life in him while i have always been the observer.  i am timid and quiet, and now, beaten down and grief-stricken.  how can i go on without him and yet somehow i do.  how can it now be almost 3 and a half years since i last was held in his warm and protective embrace, and yet, the days, the years continue to ooze by like some black sludge i have to wade through each and every day.  i am exhausted and struggle at times to find the reason for my being here, but simply waking up means there is a reason even if i cannot find it.  Where's Waldo?  where is my reason for still being here?  punishment?  a worthy purpose?  it is a puzzle that still intrigues.  i look for something good i have done for someone every day so that when i wait for sleep to come over me, i can say, "okay, that's why i was alive today."  it's not bitterness speaking.  it is melancholy.  wistful dreams for something i can no longer have and wonder at what i am supposed to do now.

to the people who don't understand

here are some words to the people who don't understand.  be forewarned.  there will be sarcasm.

some of them may also be widows, widowers, people who have lost someone dear to them.  some of these people don't understand those of us who do grieve for a while longer than expected, than is the norm.  outside influences may affect the grief journey.  yes, it's true.  it shouldn't be big news.  sometimes medical issues and/or financial issues may exacerbate, or hinder, the "wishing they were here" part of this life without them.

some people feel such a bond with their loved one who died that they live their lives missing them, talking to them, and even creating great works for themselves to help bring about comfort and closeness to them.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/9397478/Farmer-creates-heart-shaped-meadow-in-memory-of-wife.html

some people spend their lives living, yes, i'll say living because if we get up, go to work, raise our children, are involved in the community, we are living.  people who have read my blog have left comments about others they knew who grieved/missed/"didn't move on with their life" as some are want to put it.


"I don't know if I ever told you, but my Grandmother was widowed at 48--she never "dated"--said she never would. Roy was her life--she always felt like he was just around the corner. She was a widow for 30 years and yet a happy person. She didn't need any other man then Roy in her life.

The day she died, she sat up in bed, looked at the door, smiled and said, 'Roy has come for me', laid back and died. I know for a fact that my grandfather came to get her and walk home with her."

some have left me quotes that they agree with and feel inspired by.  they either understand this particular journey that i am on, or they accept that i am on it without feeling the need to correct, criticize, or condemn me.

"I am not anxious to give you the truth. I am very anxious to have you understand that all truth and power are feeble to you except your own." - walt whitman 

i have also written in a previous blog about a man i knew.  he "grieved" his whole life and no one thought he was odd, or wrong, or "not moving on with his life" or anything bad.

http://womannshadows.blogspot.com/2009/08/hard-dreaming-mortality-and-widower.html


i guess back in the old days of grief, it was acceptable to live, {<~~ see that word?  live}, live your life alone and missing someone.  you laugh.  you work.  you celebrate the holidays.  but you do miss the person you loved.  you do not feel the need to date or remarry or, as someone once put it to me, "go out and have sex to at least feel alive."  if i had the money i would take trips and see the world.  i would take hundreds of thousands of pictures.  and i would miss him in Rome, Paris, Edinburgh, on cruise ships, wherever i may roam.

it is perfectly acceptable, lovely, wonderful, all the good things i can say, for a widow or widower to find someone new to love, get married, even have more children.  congratulations.  i am thrilled.

it is also perfectly acceptable for me to still love and miss my husband.  this blog is mine.  it is my journal that i do hope for feedback, contact with the world at large, but do not, do not, do NOT criticize me for still loving my husband, feeling the strength of our marriage vows, not feeling the desire or inclination to date, and still missing him while i go through some of my medical issues, my worries over money, and my wistful desire to talk to him.  do not presume to have been there, even if you have.  do not presume you know my life and how i am affected by things.  you do not know what has happened before that shaped the woman i am today.  you do not really even possibly know my exact age, 54.  now you know.  yes, there are over 50 singles sites.  i'm not interested.

and if you have something that will hurt my feelings, say it with grace and gentleness or don't say it at all.  cruelty is you loving being hurtful and that speaks volumes about who you are.  i would rather be on this grief journey missing him as i do than be you in all your lofty cruel glory heaping your opinions over everyone.  they will say about me, "she loved him immensely and missed him all the days of her life."  they will say about you, "what a bitch."

that expression, you need to walk a mile in my shoes, is true.  to fully understand that expression you need to know that if you walk a mile in my shoes all the scars inflicted on my body and all my nightmares of the past will come rushing around you.  beware.  some of it is horrible.  so before you criticize a widow or a widower, whether they've "remarried too quickly" or "grieving too long and need to get on with their life," you truly need to "walk a mile in their shoes."

to the people who don't understand, who say to me, "get on with your life," i will take those words and hand them back to you.  "get on with your life." stop wasting your obviously frustrated time fretting about me.  get on with your life.  go on, and don't look back.

as for me, for right now, and as far as i can see in the distant future, i will grieve the loss of my husband.  i will LIVE, work, laugh, love my children, plan things, wait for holidays, write, take photographs, sew, paint, all that i used to do when he was alive, but i will do three more things.

1. i will miss him, love him, talk to him,
2. i will take pictures of and commune with the full moon,
and 3. i will see dragons, however subtle, in ephemeral things throughout the day.....

everyday, maybe for the rest of my life.

"Love is the only thing that we carry with us when we go......"

~ Louisa May Alcott 

 

to grieve or not to grieve

Bunny had herself a little debate over on Dan's blog. sort of stepped in it if you'll pardon the expression, but someone commented that there is no such thing as grief sometimes being a whole life long journey. she said we are not grieving after 6 to 15 months. anything beyond that and there are other issues not relating to the death and/or depression.

she was very adamant that newbies should not be mislead or frightened that they will feel this way for a long time. she claims she most definitely over her grief. she does not grieve for her deceased husband any longer and is happily remarried. he has been gone for 6 years. she has been remarried for over 4 of those years. she misses him but it's not grief. she said that with Dan being in a new relationship, he was no longer grieving and he needed to understand that and use the correct words. she stated that falling in love again, there are circumstances that need to be reconciled but that none of them involve grief. one of her final arguments was that, and i can only extrapolate she meant Dan words and my own comments, only presenting what she felt was a limited viewpoint was not helpful to newbies. newbies need their own kind who are right there along with them timewise with only a small pep talk here and there from those who have, i guess, been successfully finished with their grief as role models of what to aspire to.

i must be honest and admit it bothered me a little bit. she seemed rigid in her point of view. she put all her psychological eggs in one basket and the human condition seemed restricted to that one point of view. 6 - 15 months and then you are okay. George Bonanno's book "The Other Side of Sadness" was her gospel. i've read it. i wasn't impressed.

in a nutshell Bonano says we are hardwired to deal with loss and death. we are resilient and can bounce back quickly. he claims he has talked to hundreds of widows and widowers, parents whose children have died, etc. he believes grief has been misinterpreted.

i have not talked to hundreds. but i do know a handful who use the word grief to explain what they feel. they have used it beyond the 15 month finish line arbitrarily set out there. my friend whose funeral i attended last week used it at 21 years out. a gentleman who "grieved" for 35 years used it. no one corrected him or medicated him. it was acknowledged and accepted that what he felt was grief for his dead wife all his life.

i have been thinking of all of this as i sewed today. i had the day off from the Bear store and have been frantically sewing on a quilt i am crossing my fingers i finish in time for Christmas. a lot of work this one. but i think while i sew and now i have to take a break and eat something. and i thought i would talk to myself, and to you, dear reader, to see if i am wrong. maybe what i feel is not grief.

let me just bullet some simple facts.

* i still cry over him.

* i work successfully outside of my sewing here at the apartment.

* i ache sometimes with wanting him back.

* i laugh.

* i think about where he is and if he is safe in Heaven.

* i also worry that there might not really be a Heaven and like one of those episodes of "Ghost Hunters" he is stuck at the hospital or the room where he died.

* i tell jokes and interact. i am considered very witty where i work.

* i am not depressed, but i do feel sadness that all my dreams died with him.

* i smile and tease the people i work with, our guests, and am the main Party Bear at the store because i am so energetic and relate well to all age groups.

* i worry that i will not find him when i die.

* i sew for Bunny so that she looks pretty for work and for the photos i use here and on Facebook.

* i wish i had him to talk to and hold my hand and see him smile at me "that way" that made me tingle all over.

* i have no one single desire to have sex, meet anyone new, put myself out there; at least not yet. maybe never. i have no clue. but right now, i still wear my rings and strangers believe i am married.

* in my heart i feel i am grieving; the old fashioned kind that i grew up with.

* i no longer cry in public.

so am i grieving or am i finished with it and don't realize it? that was one of that woman's statements. i don't realize i am over my grief. i did feel insulted that she thinks i might not know my own heart and feelings. i was insulted that the words i personally choose are now considered wrong by "experts."

i stood my ground in the comment section of Dan's blog. i feel that we should be allowed to express ourselves as we see fit. language is so important. it is how we connect with each other.

her worry about newbies getting only one point of view seems misguided. she is presenting her point of view as the only correct one. kind of scary if you're a newbie {i hate that word} who feels like i did back then. {yes, i have re-read my blog from back then and really, only the intensity of the pain has lessened, but not my beliefs.} besides, of course newbies {still hating that word}, anyone, who reads blogs and books and listens to widow(er)s talk are getting only one side of the story. they are getting that writer's point of view. that's why libraries have so many different books. that's why there are a multitude of blogs out there. that's the beauty of differing points of view. but telling someone that they are absolutely wrong in what they feel and the words they choose to express those feelings is, at best, unkind.

i'm thinking: pick the ones that agree with your morals, your feelings, and your thoughts. pick and read and cleave to the ideas and concepts that bring you comfort and don't read the ones that don't. but do not negate what someone feels. do not condemn or criticize the words someone uses to describe their personal experience. grief is such a personal journey. it may last a week, 6 months, 15 months, or 35 years. but i do not believe anyone has the right to say, "this is the only way to grieve." or to say, "you are not grieving; you are done with it."

no one has the right to speak to someone else and use such absolutes.

'nuff said. if you wish to comment, feel free, but pretty please do so with respect. Bunny is very nervous about putting her thoughts out there. so many do criticize without realizing how much words can hurt.

and now, Bunny is going to make breakfast tacos for her supper, pull her piano shawl up around her fuzzy chin and watch some tv while she eats. then it's back to sewing.

sew, Bunny, sew. and grieve the way that feels comfortable to you.