When Bruce died, I couldn’t understand why. He was still so young – only 52… We were still so young… For the life of me, it made no sense. For months, I waited for the autopsy report – for an answer as to how a health conscience man could be fine one moment and gone the next. I knew it wouldn’t change the fact that he was gone, but I really needed to know why.
At the time, there were many people who were also on my train… They needed the “why”, as much as I did. Yet, there were also others who questioned my need to know… “Why bother,” they would ask, “What difference would it make?”
I couldn’t answer those questions. (Now, I know I didn’t need to – I didn’t owe them an answer for any of those questions.) At the time, though, I began to feel that my asking “why” somehow made me bad – like I wasn’t trusting in my faith, somehow. But I needed to know… and trying to act like it didn’t matter only made me angry.
Why not ask why? What was wrong with needing to understand why? One minute he had been fine – laughing, teasing, loving… and a few short hours later, he was gone… Like someone had snapped their fingers and suddenly he was gone… Who wouldn’t ask why?
It took four months to get the medical answer to why… Yet here I am year later, still asking God… the universe… whoever is listening… Why? I still don’t understand. It still causes me to pause and take a deep breath before moving on. However, I don’t feel guilty about asking why anymore… I think it is a perfectly normal, valid question.
It has taken me a while to get here, though…
Growing up, questioning was frowned on. Don’t question authority. Don’t question your faith. Don’t question (period). Acceptance of what was or what I was told was the “good” way to behave. I didn’t dare question… I didn’t dare ask why.
That, however, got me knot some bad situations. For example. My first marriage… I was suppose to just accept it – chaos, violence, all of it – no “why’s” allowed.
As for my religion… why would God do this or allow that? What about parts of the Bible that contradict each other? NOPE! Supposedly doubt was okay – at least that is what we were told… But only if you accepted the answers to your questions at face value and then let it go.
In other words, “why” was always a bad word – like talking bad or being disrespectful in some way. So, asking that question made me as if I were bad, as well.
Yet, I’ve always kind of been that square peg – trying to do the right thing, but never quite fitting in. So when Bruce died, I think I was just finally at that point where I simply couldn’t keep playing the game. This time it hurt too badly to simply accept it. I was angry… This was wrong… This wasn’t fair… This time I needed to ask why. I couldn’t simply accept things as they were… I couldn’t “be good” anymore… I was hurting more than I have ever hurt… I was angry and confused… My world had fallen apart beneath my feet.
That was then; this is now…
Scientifically, I understand why he died. In my heart, though, I still find myself asking why… Sometimes I find myself asking Bruce why he left me here alone… Sometimes I ask God why he let Bruce die… I know I’ll never have a real answer to any of those questions. I also know that, more than likely, I’ll never stop asking.
The difference, though? Now, I don’t feel guilty for asking. It’s okay to feel what I feel… and it’s okay to question God (or the universe or whatever)… And… it’s definitely okay to ask, “Why?”
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All of us on this journey know that it isn’t easy. Loss can be traumatic, and the grief and life we are left to figure out is hard. Healing takes time… There is a lot of trial and error, and moves at its own pace. Thankfully, though, there are moments and actions we can take to refresh our souls and guard our joy. There are also challenges where we learn that we are stronger than we think we are… Both of these provide moments where I learn a little bit more about faith, life, and love.
Thankfully, as the years pass, I can honestly say that there are more of good moments than bad. Each day, I continue to learn more and more about those things that seem to help me heal and move forward – like sharing precious memories. So, I will continue to allow myself the space I need to heal and process this life without my love… without Bruce. Thankfully, at this point in my journey, I am learning that I am not alone – thanks to you!
In fact, none of us need to be alone, because 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 and helps us to process that avalanche of emotions that grief brings us. 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.
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