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 secondfirsts.com. 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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