Okay. I have a big window that looks out on a park. I have sixteen umbrellas (maybe 5) because I only carry them when it's not raining. I got dressed and went out and had no idea that it was RAINING. I decided to put my hood up and get wet - that it was the whole sky crying instead of just me. Because it is all about us and our grief. Not really. Just seems that way.
I fell asleep when I got home and got a phone call at around 8:52. Couldn't figure out why any one would call me that early on a Sunday morning. Soon figured out it was still Saturday night. Luckily my friends understand dead husband syndrome. I am thinking maybe TOMORROW I will figure things out better. Like, if I look out the window I can see what the weather is. Like, if I stay up and find something to do I'll know what day it is. Like, if I remember the good times and feel Artie's spirit holding me up - and all of you holding me up - I'll have a happy day. I'll learn how to do the Australian Crawl and the breast stroke in my pool of tears instead of drown in it. I'll be an Olympian grief pool swimmer.
Please world, understand that we are doing the best we can. We want to live and honor the ones we love with joy and accomplishment but some days we can and some days we can't. That phone call was a from a friend who wanted to let me know that she understands how difficult things are for me right now. I told her that her husband haa to give her two Valentine's Days - one for her - and one in honor of me not having Artie here in the flesh. That's the friend who wrote me a birthday poem because she said they don't have cards for people who have birthdays and dead husbands. I wish everyone was that understanding.
Tomorrow is the Super Bowl and I wonder if I will be the only one showing up at my story telling class. For me the Super Bowl would be a big bowl with my husband in it and I could scoop him out again with a Super Spoon. I think I should go back to sleep. I am getting very silly - which maybe is a good thing. xo
Thank you for writing this. In case you're wondering, I found it with a Google search while looking for a verse or poem to describe how gloomy I feel on this dark, rainy winter day.... so I could post it on the Facebook profile of my 24-year-old nephew that I lost to suicide in July.ReplyDelete
I miss Jamie so much. Much more than I ever told him in his short life. His broken heart over the loss of his first real love, combined with the betrayal of a mutual friend that his girlfriend left him for, was just too much for him to bear. I feel sorrow that he had to have such a difficult life. I know others contributed to his misery, and for that I am angry. Very angry. Yet it is my duty now to stand beside them and comfort them in any way I can. So I feel conflicted.
And I want to tell you how brave you are, and that things will become less painful as time goes on. There is no shortcut, as Jamie's dad wants to believe there is. There's no real way to NOT feel what we are feeling, unless we shut off all our feelings (as his dad has done, & his mom is attempting to do) and that means we cannot feel what is happy, uplifting and good, either. There's no way to skip grief, as it is a process we must work through. It serves a purpose, it heals us and makes us stronger.
You have reminded me to be more patient with my best friend who is a recent widow. It's hard being her only friend, and having her so helpless, and living halfway across the country from me. She calls me daily and talks for hours - and she knows I'd rather take a beating than talk to anyone on the phone. I hate phones! But I try not to ditch her calls unless I'm really busy with something urgent or sleeping.
I know she misses her husband, who (in her eyes) could do no wrong. We both know he was a real bastard to her and kept her prisoner in her own home, and put her last, ALWAYS. He called her names and accused her of terrible things, whittling away at what little self-esteem she had left, and still she stayed by his side and said she loved him...because "He wasn't always that way". I will try a little harder to keep my opinions to myself when I listen to her sing his praises.
I hope I haven't written anything that upsets you. I think writing is a wonderful way to sort out feelings and heal emotionally. This Christmas we will honor our loved ones who have passed over, but who remain in our hearts. May others be understanding and respectful if we're not feeling up to festivities and celebrations, but may we have the strength to try, because our loved ones would want us not to be sad. They really are with us always. God bless you and may He give you strength and peace. - Kim