When I wrote last week’s blog, we were hours away from my first hurricane experience – not something I was looking forward to at all. God has blessed us, though, and here we are on the other side of that storm… Cleaning up and putting our lives back together… A lot like grief…
It’s funny, but as that storm was closing in, I found I wasn’t really scared. I thought I would be, but I wasn’t. Instead, it was one of those situations where I knew we had done all we could to prepare… It was just a matter of listening to the news so we could take refuge in our “safe space” when needed. The rest was out of our hands – It was up to God… I just needed to find that space where I trusted him to take care of us.
Even that night, it reminded me of the night Bruce died. Even back then, I didn’t break down or fall apart. I cried, yes, but my mind pushed back the reality of the situation and instead focused on what needed to be done. So, I came home and started making phone calls and preparing for the family which would soon arrive. Just like this past Sunday, I seemed to just go into “auto-pilot,” doing those things I knew I needed to do. However, on the inside, I simply felt numb, trying not to think about what was happening around me – not allowing myself to dwell on those things I couldn’t control… If I am honest, I can’t say I was in a “trust God” space back then… It was more like a “don’t-panic-this-is-only-a-dream” space.
Hurricane Irma was huge and took hours to pass. Of course, as luck would have it, we found ourselves on the northeast side of the storm – the side which usually incurs the most damage… the part of the hurricane which also has no calm eye in the middle… no small space in which to catch our breath. Instead, the night was filled with wind, rain, tornadoes and darkness… lots and lots of darkness.
Similarly, losing Bruce felt just like a hurricane in my life… This was something I never dreamed I would have to endure. Also, there was no calming eye in the middle of that storm, either… And, there seemed to be no safe place for me to catch my breath… just a lot of chaos, not knowing what would happen next and darkness… lots and lots of darkness…
Waking up on this last Monday morning felt surreal, as we slowly ventured out of our home to see what kind of damage Irma had left in her wake. Within a few hours (and with a little help), I was removing downed trees and debris and salvaging others. It has taken all week, but I have removed and stored the storm shutters, put all the potted plants and outdoor furniture back in place, and put away all the Hurricane kit items. In an effort to return to “normal,” most of us (myself included) even returned to work on Tuesday, despite no power, minimal water, road closures, no gas, empty grocery stores and no school for the kids. In other words, it has been a week of acting like everything is fine, even when it wasn’t.
We were lucky, our damage was minimal… Everything we lost can easily be replaced… This is where the two storms differ.
During those first few months after Bruce died, I slowly understood this was my new “normal.” It felt surreal at first, but it didn’t take too long for me to start to understand and experience the “damage” left in the wake of his death. Unlike Irma, the damage left in the wake of Bruce’s death was not minimal and can not be easily fixed… I am still working on that…
I have spent years “trying to return to normal” … only I don’t seem to know what “normal” is any more… There are so many days when I feel like I am “acting like everything is fine, even when it isn’t.”
So, what now?
Hurricane Irma is gone… We have picked up, cleaned up and moved on with life. But losing Bruce? That is a different type of storm… It is one which has left some damage which will never be repaired. As for the rest, I know it is a process… A process where each day holds its own challenges (and accomplishments)… I know I can’t rush it or fix it or make it all go away. Instead, I must wake up each day, look at the challenges ahead, and move forward – fixing what I can and being patient when I can’t…
This is my hurricane… And, I guess, this is my life after “the storm.”
Everyone deals with grief’s emotions in their own way… These are only my thoughts and observations as this hurricane reminds me of life’s many lessons on this journey. Maybe grief has been that way for you, as well. Learning to navigate this storm tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were able. If any of this feels familiar, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *
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I totally agree. I have felt the same way this week.
Now that I have entered “year 2” I have found that it truly is worse than year 1. I cry at the drop of a hat. I don’t want to be here but I don’t want to be anyplace else either. I just don’t know.
I have shingles off. If Mike were here they would already be fixed. My fence is leaning. If Mike were here he would know what to do. If only Mike were here …
The hurricane has passed but my “storm” still lingers on & on & on. I hate feeling like this but I don’t know what I am supposed to do or who I am supposed to be.
I remember thinking year 2 would be easier… But like you, it was just as hard if not harder. I have cried several times today, just because I really just NEED Bruce here. I am so sorry for your pain. {{hugs}}
Thanks, Linda. Being in month two I am still trying to figure out all that this new normal will be for me. I am a realist and pragmatically move through each day and what I need to do. But I never know when this new reality will hit and tears come unbidden. I have never been a crier and I don’t like that part of my adjustment!
You have been in my thoughts and prayers on a daily basis! I would say – Don’t push yourself too hard… This is not something any of us are really “ready” to handle, so let yourself feel what you feel… Also, I am here if you ever want to talk.