It has been over six years since Bruce died… “They” say it gets easier with time. Maybe that is true for some people… Or maybe it just hasn’t been enough time for me. Who knows? I know everybody’s path is different, so I am guessing the “time” part is different too.
There is a certain thing, though, that I am guessing happens to more people than just myself… After a certain amount of time, even if you are still hurting, you simply get better at keeping those emotions to yourself. I know for me, I have gotten better at smiling, even on the rough days… Just because I am smiling doesn’t mean those feelings aren’t there. In fact, those feelings seem to always be there – somewhere just below the surface… waiting for any small reminder of what once was. Sometimes it is a song… Other times it might be a mannerism in a stranger or passing a car or truck like the one he used to drive.
In other words, it can be anything, and it usually catches me unaware…
The next thing I know, I am struggling to control those emotions while still maintaining whatever demeanor and conversation happens to be going on. Like anything else in life, sometimes it’s more manageable than other times. However, if I am honest, there are times when I am just plain tired of smiling through the hurt and pretending to be okay… Pretending that it doesn’t really hurt any more when, in fact, I am still dying on the inside.
Do you know what I mean? Have you ever gotten tired of pretending that all is fine? Maybe it’s just me, but somehow, I doubt it.
This week I was trying to figure out why I do that… After the third time in one day of smiling instead of giving in to the tears, I thought, “Why not just say, ‘Hey, give me a minute here, please?’” Then, as God provides, (through my Face Book feed this time), I read an article that seemed to hit the nail on the head…
Here’s the thing, our grief is unique to who we are and our unique relationship with the person we loved and lost. Even if two people are grieving the same person, our relationships are different. Therefore, our grief is different. So, no matter how much another person might want to completely understand, they can only support us up to a point. After that it is up to us to walk the journey… alone, because it is our grief and our pain that we must work through.
I think that is why I choose to keep it close to my heart, hidden deep inside…
The people around me love me… I know they love me… I do not doubt that for a moment. I also know that when I am in pain, it creates pain for them. After all, when someone we love is hurting, we hurt too… That is part of loving someone. These people around me, because they love me, have seen me through the parts of this path that are accessible to them. They have stood beside me and held me in my darkest moments.
However, at this point – after so many years – there really isn’t much they can do to help me as much as they may want to. Now, it really is up to me to work through the hurt that is unique to my grief for Bruce. There are still moments of grief we can share, such as on holidays and special occasions. However, for those day to day moments that create a catch in my throat, there is no need to bring it up since those particular situations are based on my relationship with Bruce and those intimate moments and memories that belong only to us.
So, while there may be times when I am tired of pretending, I am also so thankful for the people around me who keep me smiling… Those people who don’t judge me or make a big deal when I suddenly get momentarily quiet before rejoining the conversation and laughter.
So, maybe I’m not as good at hiding it as I think… Maybe those I love do notice those moments of pain as they flash across my face. However, rather than calling attention to it, they respect my path enough to let me work it out for myself… As I sit here and think about it, maybe we are all just getting better at walking this path in our own way… and in our own timing.
Death changes everything…
For a while that is all I can think about.
Time changes nothing…
On its own.
This is a journey
That will not end,
But I can learn how to direct my path.
If I do not pay attention
To each individual step,
If I look too far ahead,
If I get tired and stop,
If I look backward too long,
I will become lost and scared.
I did not choose this journey.
I do not even like this journey.
But I would rather choose my path now
Than to try to find my way later
Because I gave up what little choice was mine
And became lost.
It is okay to stop and rest
Or cry when I am weary
As long as I do not lose track of where I am.
It is okay to peer behind me
To see where I was
As long as I remember to look forward as I move on.
It is even okay to look at what is ahead
As long as I am doing so as preparation,
While I remain focused on where I am.
Death has changed everything
And I must learn how to adjust.
Time changes nothing…
On its own – that is my job now.
This is a journey –
And it is mine –
I must own it to survive it.
~ Linda, September 2013
Everyone deals with grief and the loneliness it creates in their own way and in their own time… These are only my thoughts and observations about my own path. Maybe grief has been that way for you, as well. Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when our loneliness leaves us feeling completely vulnerable. 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. *
This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief
* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.