Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Pick Myself Up and Start Again

Since the house in California I lived in with my husband was sold my real estate agent/friend mailed me the quilt that was on the bed.  I hoped yesterday would be a better day but after doing some computer things and washing my hair I crawled under the quilt I slept under with my husband and slept and watched DVDs.  This morning I got up and looked at the picture of his loving handsome face and started to cry BUT....

I got out of bed.  I put in a load of laundry.  I cleaned up a little.  I'm going to a political talk tonight.  I signed up for a workshop this weekend on how to be outrageously funny.  I figure I can't be too depressed at a workshop with that title! 

Still riding the bucking bronco of grief.  There is a page on Facebook I like called Second Firsts.  There is also a web site I haven't looked at called  I like it because it represents all views and talks about growth and rebuilding.  I often feel that I can't.  I can't.  I can't.  Then I have to will myself or move myself or put myself somewhere that makes me feel I can. I can. I can.  Just this one thing.  Then the next thing.  If I have what Winston Churchill used to call black dog days I have to accept that is part of figuring out things without my husband.  It's a little silly but grieving for him would be so much easier if  he was here to help me handle it!! 

Anyway.  Today I am taking some of the actions I couldn't take the past couple of days.  The DVDs I was watching are this old Australian soap opera called Prisoner in Cell Block H.  Great melodrama.  What topic was in some of the episodes?  Two prison guards -  a widow and a widower getting out of their isolation and finding ways to live again.  Even escaping I can't escape!  I want to hug my sadness to my chest and rock back and forth with it.  That's not a bad thing.  It's just that it will be waiting for me later if I put it down for a while and go out without it.  If I can't do that - I can - like I wrote before - take my grief for a walk.  Be happy and sad and feel all the layers of life.

I am so grateful for all the folks who are walking this path with me; whether I know them or not.  I've never been much of a team player - but I feel the tremendous courage out there.  It keeps me breathing and searching for new ways to feel whole.  I know my husband would understand my sadness.  Before he died he told some of his friends he was afraid I wouldn't be able to survive without him.  I know he must be proud of all the things I am doing.  I like to honor his love by not giving up because I know that he was someone who didn't give up.  I miss him!

Here's hoping for some laughter mixed in with the tears for all of us.

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