“Life has a way of reminding you that you are at the mercy of chance.” ~ Kelly Rimmer, The Things We Cannot Say
I have to admit, before Bruce died, I didn’t think about death very much. I hadn’t really encountered it very often, in fact. The few pets we had growing up, (a stray cat my mother fed on the back porch, and a parakeet), aren’t really in my memory – only vague recollections from pictures and stories. I can’t even tell you when the pets came into or left our world… I was too young.
So, for me, I didn’t experience the death of someone (or something) I loved until I was in my late teens. I was 18 when my great-grandmother died and a sophomore in college when I lost my grandfather. A few months later, my first child was born stillborn. Then, my great aunt died in my 30’s and my two grandmothers died when I was in my 40’s. All these were sad events. I cried every time. Family is a big deal to me. I grew up surrounded by family, and all of these people were huge, active parts of my life… And I still miss them so very much.
Now… here is where it gets a little weird… While we “mourned” and buried our loved ones, I can’t say I grieved. I can remember hearing the phrases, “for the best,” “it was their time,” “they are in a better place,” “this is the natural order of things,” and the list goes on… Surely, you know what I mean. In other words, grieving for an extended amount of time just wasn’t done. At least, not in any way that I could see.
After the funeral, no one talked about their feelings anymore. We might share stories that made us laugh, but there was no mention of missing that person or being sad… There was no discussion of grief or how to handle it. It was just assumed that each person, on their own, was okay. It was never spoken, (although it felt understood), that any questioning of why or prolonged signs of grief would be seen as a sign of weak faith… almost blasphemous, in fact.
So, as is common in our culture, I never learned how to grieve… I’m not mad about it – just stating a fact. (And I don’t think I’m alone in this…) We live in a “be tough and move on” culture. Yet, as an extension of that, I never really gave death much thought. Death was something that happens when you get older… to other people… to other people’s lives… not mine… not yet anyway.
Until it did…
Bruce’s death hit me like a ten-ton train head on. In my mind, we were both still relatively young, and in good health. Both our parents were still alive, so our longevity seemed a given. When the events of that night occurred, I struggled to even comprehend what was happening. It seemed so impossible. I felt like I was in a nightmare, but I couldn’t make myself wake up.
All in all, I was totally unprepared for all the changes Bruce’s death brought to my world. I was completely in shock for many months – just going through the motions and watching life pass me by like an observer at a movie. And it has taken me years to feel like I am human again… like I want to be a part of my own life.
Part of what took me so long was I had to actually learn how to grieve. Then, I had to go back and grieve for all those people I had already lost. I know, it sounds strange, but it was some of the best advice I got. I grieved my grandmothers, my grandfather, my great aunt, and most especially, my little baby boy. Then, I was ready to grieve for my husband… for our love and our life together… It took a while, but I grieved for it all.
There have been a lot of changes since those early days after his death. Learning to grieve has been one, but just thinking about and acknowledging death has been another. I have gone from never thinking about death to thinking about death quite often to a realization that no moment is guaranteed other than the one you are currently experiencing. Honestly, this whole process has given me an appreciation for life and those I love as I never felt before. I know how precious each and every moment truly is, and I hope to never again take it for granted.
As part of this “thinking about death,” there are times when I also think about my own death – something I don’t think I ever really contemplated before. For example, I was reading Diana Gabaldon’s book, Drums of Autumn, and one of the main characters tells his wife, “I just want to die in my sleep… beside you.” That line left me feeling bittersweet. Bruce and I were together in bed the night he died. I was right beside him when he took his last breath. Perhaps it sounds strange, but that brings me comfort in an odd kind of way… I mean, I couldn’t save him, but I was with him… It makes me smile to know Bruce didn’t die alone.
Then, I think about my own death… I have no idea what the future will hold, but I’m not scared. There are so many things that go through my head… I know some of it probably sounds morbid, but some of it is realistic, as well. For example, I know I won’t be dying in Bruce’s arms. Hopefully, though, I won’t be alone either. (See, that is the morbid part, I think.) But… There is a thing that makes me smile… When my time comes, (which, for the record, I am betting is a long way off), I know Bruce will be there waiting for me… ready to take my hand and hold me close once again… And that brings me comfort.
For now, I am happy to live my life and experience all the love still here. However, I also look forward to a time when he and I are together again… When I can look into his eyes and hear him say, “I love you” … one more time.
This grief journey is a hard one, and it is different for everyone… The many ways we experience it are as diverse as we are. We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… We are all different, and just doing the best we can in a world that can feel overwhelming at times. What about you? How have you learned to grieve? Is it better some days than others? Would you like to share your story or ask a question? Do 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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