A year ago, I posted my first blog. Since then, I have posted 281 times and have had 17,580 page views. This has also been a great conduit for reaching out and developing some very wonderful relationships across the world. I am both humbled and elated by the overwhelming response to my lived experiences. I must admit that I had originally thought that this blog would only last a year ... to be in line with the "first year" concept. Truth be told, the first year for me was mostly about grieving a loss of a lifestyle and about the uncertainty of tomorrow. As I move forward through year two, I have come to realize that I can stand on my own two feet - don't much like it, but can - therefore, all there is left is to grieve is my beautiful husband, friend and lover - Bill. I am learning to settle into our new relationship for he is always with me, always with us, of that I am certain. I will continue to share through year two of this journey with grief.
In the summer of 2010 sudden death knocked at my door to claim too early my best friend. I continue to walk with this most profoundest of all human emotions - grief. I realize that I have not only been on a journey with grief but at the same time learning to rebuild my life and redefining my relationship with Bill. My days are not all filled with despair today, however, I know that there is much left to do.
There are a few things that I continue to need ...
§ The second year is filled with many surprise attacks of sadness. The build up to these moments is no longer apparent and sometimes leads to impatience as I struggle to find my footing. I need for you to be patient with my agitation. My reality is that there continues to be many insecurities and frustrations. It is not because I am no longer crying every day that I am "over this" or have "moved on". If you happen to be the one who witnesses these moments of sadness and tears, do not despair. I need for you to be as comfortable with my tears as you were when my journey first began. I ask simply that you sit with me in silence and hold my hand. There is no explaining this away! It still sucks!
§ It's okay to give me a hug, or sit close to me ... my world continues to have many painful moments. Don't worry, you can't catch my grief. I sometimes feel a little abandoned and isolated when it is a time when I most need to be cared about.
§ I continue to struggle with what I see in the mirror and what I'm feeling inside. The difference is that there are times when the two feel good but generally I want to say, "Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good." Ask me how I feel only if you really have time to find out and be prepared if I say, "Not so good today." Again, don't run from me if that is all I can offer.
§ I need to hear his name. I need to hear about how he influenced your life and to hear about what a great couple we are. It has been far more comforting re-member him into my life than to pretend that he never existed. Do not turn away or change the subject if I need to talk about him. There are many years filled with many wonderful experiences and I need to continue sharing these.
§ On the subject of "moving on" or "getting over this" ... that simply does not happen. It is about transforming, it is about re-membering Bill into my life. This does not make me strong ... it makes me human. When you continue to state that I am strong, I feel that you don't see me. There is no recovery, there is no getting over this. Factor in the loss of the person I was when Bill was with me physically ... there were still people to see and places to go. These are unfulfilled dreams with Bill here on Earth; now is my hope to live these through in our new relationship, all the while learning to be with and without him.
All this to say, that my grief is no longer so intense but that does not equal forgetting Bill. It does not say that I am recovering, rather that I am working at re-membering Bill into my life. He was, will always be such a big part of who I was, am and will be. To re-member him brings about its own joys and tears and I am learning to be okay with both.
For all of those who read this and have yet to experience this life altering experience, I can't help but feel that in the days or years ahead, I will be there for you. I will understand like no other.
Before ending today, I would like to thank you for having the courage to write to me this past year. Know that I acknowledge your grief, your pain and your heart always. I am touched by your story. I have cried with you, laughed and celebrated with you. It has been a privilege.
Breathe my tender hearts.
Congratulations on your first year of blogging. I always mean to write something on my anniversary of blogging, but life has this annoying habit of making me forget. My blog turned 6 last month and I didn't even notice! I'm glad you came out of lurkerdom to post on my blog and let me know you're out here. I enjoy your writing and your observations.
ReplyDeleteI will say that the second year of widowhood was much (much) harder than I expected it to be. Part of the difficulty is that people expect us to be "better," to be "moving on," to be "getting over it," and -- as you know -- it doesn't work that way. The other part is that we ourselves think that after the first year things should be easier.
In truth though, the protective blanket of shock is gone. The numbness of disbelief is gone. The reality that HE is Gone confronts us every day. It's a b$tch.
But ... it does get easier. We do learn how to breathe again. Our hearts do heal. And yes, we do eventually get through it, if not over it.
What a wonderful summary of your life and blogging experience, Kathleen. I so agree that I have to hear Gwen's name and have people tell me about what a wonderful person she was. Somehow that makes her less gone.
ReplyDeleteKeep on keeping on.