There I was sitting on my bed a year and about eight months after Artie's death in my gorgeous NYC apartment crying over feeling completely uprooted and homeless. I turned on the computer and found a Facebook post by Widow Chick where so many folks were talking about the same thing. It seems like for a lot of us our homes weren't places but people. I am grateful for where I live. I'm glad I don't know phsyical homelessness - like my husband did before he got and stayed sober. (He was sober for 47 years when he died - I am so proud of that.) Still, emotional homelessness is painful. Coming home always meant coming home to Artie - not to myself. I am having a hard time learning how to come home to myself and be content with that. His love is my home. The longer he is dead the more I wonder about how much I am living in the past and if that is okay or not. I don't want anyone but him - on the other hand - if I cling to that - then I will be alone for the rest of my life because it isn't time to go home to him yet. His letters and notes are so beautiful. I want to think that his spirit is all around me - yet he is dead.
I don't have any answers only questions. I did my show on Monday night and it went very well. Now I am supposed to be working on the full version that is on May 14th. I think it is important to talk about Artie dying at home surrounded by love - about us - and about me being alive when I am alive. It touches people and they keep asking me to do it. It's difficult tho - to go back to that time and space. To stand on stage next to the hospital bed he was lying in (in my imagination) and describe his last breath - his last words (I love you.). People I know who are in new relationships seem to be happier. I just banged my elbow- was it because I just banged my elbow or was Artie saying "Hey, wait for us to be together again." :)
I seem to be in a slump lately for no particular reason. Haven't the excuse of any particular date coming up. It's just that I am still that small child in a constant tantrum of I want my husband back.
Have lots of plans this weekend - some with friends - some by myself. I do have to work on the show. I plan a healthy day for myself and then I think it is too hard and I go to turn to Artie to say, "Hold me" and listen to him tell me it's okay - I can do it. I'm still breathing. How much he would want me to be loving every ounce of life I have left. How do I do it without him? Some days I can. Some days I can't.
It's April 16th I'm off to London for the workshop with Richard Bandler. I have a lot of hope for his ability to create some change. Maybe I am just a wimp!! Strong enough to do some things and then...fold away again and feel sorry for myself.
I have a huge picture of Artie on my desk - I can look into his eyes - and yet he has no eyes. It's all such a puzzlement - this grief thing - when you have loved one special person so deeply. All of us who feel homeless at least create a bond with one another. May we find a way to come home to ourselves - to feel at home in the world even though our loved one has left before us. Here's to some smiles today - for me too. xo
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