Thursday, April 24, 2014
Living Until I'm Alive Again
Dear Michael,
Tomorrow, it will be 23 months. It gets harder and harder to write these letters to you, Sweetie. Sometimes it feels like I don't have anything new to say..just a repeat of all those things I've already said to you so many times in the past (almost) two years that you've been gone.
Remember, before we got married, I told you that my love for you was independent of you? My love was not contingent on whether you loved me back, that my love for you had a life of it's own...it just simply was? I have loved you without having seen your face, without having heard your voice, without so much as a touch, I have loved you with a love that simply is, for (almost) two years and I have missed you every single moment of that (almost) two years.
Sometimes I wonder, if you came back today, would you recognize me? I feel as if the person I was, left with you, and I'm an entirely different person now. I look back at who I was and the things I did, and I compare that person to who I am now..and Baby, I hardly recognize myself. Grief just takes a whole lot out of a person, you know?
Before you left, I was always so busy. I always had something going on, something to do. I had projects and plans and goals to meet. Now, I still try to stay busy, but it's not the same. Two years ago, I was up and dressed, had the house cleaned and was out the door by 10:30 a.m. Now, well, sweetie, I haven't changed out of my pajamas since I put them on last night, and it's now time to go back to bed again.
But, it's not always like that! I have really good days...days when I wake up full of energy, I take the bull by the horns and I get the day going. And sometimes, I have five or six or even seven of those good days in a row. And then a grief "wave" hits out of the blue and just knocks me right onto my grieving behind.
Tuesday was like that. The day started out like an average "(almost) two years" day. I got Tru off to school. I had plans. I straightened up the house and then I sat at the computer to check in on my friends and for some reason, I decided to watch our dance videos.
Oh, Baby...there you were! You were alive and laughing and talking. One of us would laugh and the other one of us would reach out and put a hand on the other one's shoulder. We would stand together, waiting for the music to start and I would kiss your neck. I could taste that kiss watching the video. We looked so in love and so happy. I reached out and tried to grab you out of the computer. I just wanted to BE in that video once again. And when the video ended...you died again.
It had been a long time since I had a visit from my friend the "ugly cry", but oh my gosh, when it comes, it comes with a vengeance. The painful, wracking sobs, the feeling that you can't get your breath, the pain in your chest as your heart is squeezed mercilessly...I had forgotten the intensity of the ugly cry, but yet, it was almost like an old friend had come to visit.
I miss you every day, Michael. But, life seems to happen-.time marches on, so they say. I haven't found the courage to dream of finding love again, I'm still too in love with you to be ready for that. Sometimes, I think my future looks bleak..I don't see a way out of days and more days like this one, spread out endlessly in my future. I often wonder if this will be the way the rest of my life goes...alone, struggling, missing you?
But, I am an optimist. I know that God will not leave me in this place. I know that I have a future and I know He holds tomorrow. I've learned after (almost) two years, that I will feel better again. The waves come crashing into me, but by now I know, that the waves also go back to where they came from. And if you've ever sat on a beach and watched the waves, you know that as they come into shore..loud and roaring, they leave something new on the beach, and as they quietly slip back to sea, they leave behind them a clean slate..they wash away the footprints, the imperfections and the broken shells. I think the grief waves do the same..they hit hard, but as they recede, they take with them more of the hurt, more of the tears and more of the sorrow. Slowly, little by little, they take away the pain.
I heard a quote on a television show the other day. The older woman was talking to a young woman who had just lost her fiance. She looked at that grieving heart and said "You just keep living until you're alive again". And I wanted to just jump up and shout "that's it..that's the magic formula". I want to say to all the others who are grieving , "We have to put our feet on the ground. Everyday, we have to breathe in and out...until one day, we realize "we're alive again".
I'm going to keep on living until I'm alive again.
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so beautiful...thank you my friend....I hope you don't mind, I'm stealing your quote about living until you're alive again. ly.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Please, feel free to use the quote. I heard it on "Call the Midwife" and thought that it was just beautiful.
DeleteThat old woman was right... I lost my (quite young) mom very suddenly without warning. We were very close. It was exactly like that... you just go on living till you're alive again. That's how I got through it. And I DID get through - and so will you. (I know, you're maybe also kind of attached to the grief and don't know if you really WANT to get "through it" completely, it's still a connection to your loved one...) That's normal too.
ReplyDeleteSo much of what we learn about grief is off the mark and ignores what's normal and natural. First of all, that bit about a year of mourning is BOGUS, the really fresh grief was yeah, about 2 years long, for me, and both my sisters... so hang in there... you're doing it right, feeling the feelings and better yet talking/writing about them... letting the ugly cry's take you, but also letting the high-energy, good days happen too. DOn't feel guilty for feeling good, and don't feel guilty for not getting out of your PJs all day.
It's a process, you just have to be brave enough to stay with it, I always say "grief knows what to do" bc grief is NATURE, it's the natural process of deep attachment rearranging itself from an external relationship with the beloved to an internal relationship with the beloved.
Coming alive again DOES happen. It takes time, and work, hard work, the work of grief that you ARE doing, so it WILL happen. For me, I remember exactly the time I wrote in my diary "I did it - I'm alive again." That was about, oh, 4 years after she died... I'd had more and more good days long before then, but on that day I suddenly realized, I felt REALLY alive and it was a lasting feeling.
It took a while for me, I think, bc I had a lot of other things to work out in my life, that her death made me realize I should not tolerate any more. I had to work through a process of changing careers, ending an engagement that wasn't right, moving to a new town... Everyone's timeline is different, it depends a lot on what's going on in your life besides the loss, that needs addressing, plus the nature of the relationship and how the loved one passed away (more troubled relationships and/or sudden, unexpected, or violent deaths take LONGER to grieve.)
I hope you don't mind my sharing some parts of my own path with you, I felt it might help to know how much it sounds "right" and "normal" to someone who's been there (or at least had a similarly intense loss).
I wish you strength and patience for this, one of life's most difficult journeys. Keep at it. Your future self, your family needs you to process this completely. I'm now married to a wonderful man who lost his mom at 11 years old and he never grieved it properly... all sorts of issues have come up in our marriage, his career, health, etc as a result, finally he is uncovering that wound, grieving daily and letting it clean out and heal - like the waves analogy... which I have sent him!
So you see, grieving properly is your #1 job right now, and till further notice. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise!
Sending prayers for healing your way... JJ