I am alone…
All alone.
No longer is there someone to listen at the end of a bad day.
No longer are there arms to hug me or lips to kiss away the hurt.
No longer is there someone to say, “I love you… that’s all we need.”
All that greets me is silence, emptiness, and my own thoughts…
~ Linda, Sept 2013
Most of us learn pretty quickly on this path that when someone we love dies, (particularly a partner), you don’t just lose the person or relationship. No… You lose all kinds of things – all the different roles that person filled in your life. I remember going to a grief support group and one of the first things they had us do was to list all the things that other person did. For example, Bruce had always handled the taxes. That first year I almost missed filing mine because Bruce had always done it. He was our tax-guy. (I am not a tax person at all. So now, every year, I hire someone to fill that role and prepare my taxes.)
I know it sounds weird and maybe even a little heartless or un-emotional, but it is reality. When Bruce died, all those roles and tasks that he had handled were now mine… and I struggled to remember all those things that were not in the forefront of my mind, especially through the fog of grief.
I ended up with sticky notes all over the house to remind me to do those things, such as locking the door and unplugging appliances before going to bed… or cleaning the cats’ litter boxes… or taking the garbage can to the street on trash day. All small things… all important things… and all things I was NOT used to thinking about.
But those are not the only things we lost when Bruce died. I know each family member and friend had their own relationship with Bruce, which means we all lost and grieve different things. The past few weeks I have been craving an aspect of our relationship that I haven’t really thought about in a while…
As you have read many times, I often refer to Bruce as my “gentle giant”. He was a body-builder so he was quite muscle-bound – my giant. He was also the kindest, most gentle person I have ever met. He was always aware of our size difference. (I’m kind of little and was even smaller back then.)
So, I went from a man who was completely not self-aware and thought it was funny to physically hurt others, to a man who was very self-aware of his physique and went out of his way not to hurt anyone, (unless it was about protecting those he loved). Hence… my gentle giant.
What I have been missing is how he used to hold me in his arms… Whenever times were rough – whether a bad day at work, a hard conversation with one of the kids, or a threat from my ex – he would see my face (and the tears in my eyes), and hold out his arms. I would enter that safe space and simply say, “Just hold me… please,” … And he would. For as long as I needed, without words and without rushing me through my own processing in that moment, he held me…
God, how I miss that.
I don’t know why I have been craving that the past couple of weeks, but I have. Nothing is going wrong. Life is good. I am happy. I am also tired… and anxious about how “we the people” are currently treating each other with such disrespect and hate. I guess, now that I wrote that out, I realize that is why I am craving that safe space in his arms.
I find myself (several times a day) whispering, “I miss you, Babe… Just hold me… Please, hold me.” Of course, there is never a response and life moves on… Somedays I have cried at that point, and other days I have done some journaling or gone for a walk… None of it takes the place of what I crave, but it does allow me to process whatever is happening within my heart at that time.
I also know this… When my time comes, and Bruce and I are together again, I think the first thing I am going to say is, “Just hold me… please, just hold me.”
Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
Other times I smile and laugh at the thought of our memories.
You were always that way…
Making me smile or laugh when I wanted to cry…
When the pain was so bad.
Now my heart hurts…
Truly, physically hurts with the missing of you.
I feel your soul.
I know you are here,
But I need to SEE your eyes and your smile;
Feel the comfort of your arms.
I want to breathe in your presence,
And feel your love in all these things.
But that isn’t to be…
All I have are the memories;
The memories of our love…
And …
Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
~ Linda, Oct 2013
Note: You may have noticed, I didn’t post a blog last week. I took the time to spend Mother’s Day weekend with family. I considered stepping away and writing. However, I ultimately decided that my time here with them is precious, and I just wanted to enjoy and treasure the opportunity for us to create some precious memories.
____________________________________________________
Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.
I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.
Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*
