Thursday, August 19, 2010
I was reading on a web site about recovery from grief and was trying to define it for myself. Recovery - getting back into bed and pulling the covers over my head!! Recovery in terms of recovering my husband - impossible. Maybe in an afterlife in a new form - but not the face and body and voice that I loved in this life. So...it must be recovery of myself. Also impossible. Or, seems impossible now. Reinventing is a better word. I am a different person than I was when Artie was alive. I am busy doing a lot of things - can't believe I figured out how to do a blog - and still working on the poetry although I haven't been submitting it and need to do that - and at the age of 59 auditioned for the first time for a small theater here in NY to do a solo show - and got it - will be performing one night in October - travelling a little again. All great stuff. However I feel like a scrumptious chocolate Easter bunny who is hollow inside - like the Tin Man who lost his heart - and the scarecrow who needs a brain - still have a lot of courage, though. I have lovely happy moment with friends and my daughter - but I can't imagine a time or day when I won't grieve for my husband. Is that a mental disorder? A weakness? I don't know. I know that I miss him every day and it hurts - but also makes me laugh with memories - and grateful to have been granted such a spectacular gift to love and be loved during the worse as well as the better. I fight the very idea that our journey together is over. I don't know if that is denial or not - I accept that he is dead - but I don't accept that our relationship died with him. The earthly one did - but something other that I don't comprehend being still alive. So, I guess my goal isn't to recover but to weave the pain of my loss into the pattern of my life in such a way that I am not crippled by it but instead inspired by it. Ouch. What a task to assign myself!! I wish I could say I was about to do something magical but what I need to do is pay my bills!!