I have written many posts about grief that don’t get posted. The same words tend to pop up, about drowning, battling, fighting, then relinquishing control….
It’s not easy to experience grief (understatement of the year), but the metaphors of the experience seem to come with ease. And while writing about it and getting it off my chest is part of healing, even to me, the story gets old.
New experiences…putting myself out there, trying different things, meeting new people, that too will give me something to write about, or, at least experience. Grief won’t be going away anytime soon. But my life, well, I’m all too aware of how finite it is.
“I’m afraid to say, that what we have here is a complete hard drive failure.”
God damn it! If I’m not careful, I am going to go into a “complete emotional failure”. An epic widow melt-down. Breathe. Process this news s l o w l y.
See, on my most wonderful, “joyous” birthday in December, my computer crashed. Died. The IT guys at work couldn’t fix it, so, after much procrastination (obviously, as it’s now February), I took it to a specialist. Which is where I got the diagnosis. He explained that there was still hope for retrieving the data, by sending it to a data recovery service. But it would cost me. How much? I vaguely heard him say, possibly $600, going up to a thousand, as my mind started freaking out. Continue reading →
This morning *that* song came on the radio, the song from last summer that went straight to my heart, the song that goes straight to my gut, and immediately takes me back to a place of deep sorrow. But then another one came on, and another, ALL songs from last summer that remind me of my husband, of his death. What is going on? Did someone make a medley of my horrendous summer?
Ah, the Grammys. Of course. Might need to avoid them this year.
To a normal person – a person *not* in grief – that might sound like the wrong thing to do, “avoiding” things that stir up memories. But I can tell you that grief has completely re-arranged my perception of what is right and wrong in terms of how we process a loss. Continue reading →
“Looks like your dog is walking you”. Harmless neighborhood remark. One I hear often, from many, as my dog drags me around the block.
Man, that comment absolutely ruffles my fur. I feel it start at the base of my spine, the hairs raising, right up to a lip curl, revealing fangs. Who knew I had ’em?
No. neighbor. You are wrong. The thing that has me by the neck, that is dragging me to and fro, threatening to pull me flat on my face on the icy sidewalk, is grief. And right now, I hate it. I resent it. And I really resent comments that refer to my dog training abilities.
There’s a strange phenomenon taking place in my house. It’s not a huge place. We always thought it was the perfect size, for two, and possibly a third. But I just realized, as I went upstairs to my office, that I hadn’t been up there in days. Maybe even weeks. It almost felt like I was walking into a stranger’s office…a half empty mug of coffee, dried up and hardened on the table, papers here and there, a poster had started curling off the wall. It looked abandoned. Un-lived in. Un-loved. It would seem that I’m only living in half of the house.
And then there’s the matter of the old calendar, stuck and spooling in the month of December. I can’t bring myself to take it down. While I know I should be kind and patient with myself, I can’t help but wonder about me, and my life, circling around in the twilight zone of last year. In this house, where rooms are half empty, half clean, a mess of his stuff and mine, some things have been moved, to accommodate some semblance of future as a single dweller, and some things, like the little bowl with two pills (one of the last things my husband touched) are practically cemented in place. Relics of another time.
I attended our company holiday party the other night. It got rescheduled due to the winter storm we had in December, and took place at a quirky german place called the Essen Haus. There would be pretzels, polka and beer.
I had avoided some previous company events, but felt like I could brave this one. I need to re-integrate. Many of my co-workers are also friends, a wonderfully wild bunch…and, there would be dinner…a huge motivator…as I am still not eating well.
A storm is coming. No, really. They are predicting the first “big one” here…using terms like “paralyzing”, “crippling”, and my favorite, “thunder snow”. Thunder snow. That does make me smile.
I see another storm coming, too. The storm of “firsts”. The initial wave already hit – my birthday – and it was crippling. It really knocked me down, and I wasn’t expecting it. But I am happy to report, that I am back up, hobbling around. For the moment. So I thought I’d take this opportunity to post something “softer” than my last rant. I actually wrote this before my birthday, before I realized just how hard some of these upcoming anniversaries would be.
The last triple date that we will experience in our lifetimes, a lovely trifecta of lucky numbers, a choice date for weddings, a golden birthday…mine. Thank god it’s over.
I’m not looking for anymore best wishes, I’m not asking for pity. I couldn’t even write on my birthday, or the day after, because I was so messed up. I just have to get this out to the universe…send my anger hurling, release the flying monkeys, spew out the poisonous agony so it doesn’t consume me.
This blog is about life. And death. And loss. As experienced by me (obviously)….
I am not sure what my intention is, other than to try and get all the tangles out of my head, and into some other format…so that I can continue to “move forward”. The details of my story will probably come out bit by bit. That’s just how I am, not completely comfortable spilling my guts right up front, about things that are so personal, yet living in this modern world, and aware that sharing can help.
What I will tell you is, that last year, within the span of four months, I lost the two most important men in my life. My dad died in January 2012, followed unexpectedly by my sweet husband, 4 months later. My dad was 71, my husband was 39. They died of different causes, but I was present for each of their last breaths.
I know I have been deeply affected at my core, but I don’t know how yet.
A couple other things that might be worth mentioning:
This blog won’t be an altar to the ones I’ve lost (because they were both private, and it’s too personal), but it will be an exploration of how their lives and deaths affected me.
This blog will definitely contain cursing…and probably, also, incomplete thoughts…and total over-use of ellipses.
I can’t promise that the posts are in any kind of “order”.
I still have a sense of humor, though it might not be in everyone’s taste.
There will be questions about “faith”, spirituality, and belief systems. I do not believe in God, but I do believe in “something”. (I am just not sure what that “something” is anymore.)
All the illustrations are my own, and the photos were taken either by me or my husband, unless otherwise stated.