I’ve finally come to accept that this is ok. As Megan Devine says in the title of her book, “It’s Ok to not be OK”. He became a part of me when we married. He will remain a part of me until they lay me down beside him.
I’m trusting the love to carry me through as I carry him with me.
And, as I’m moving forward with his love, this is my goal: To carry him forward; to bring his light into the world. He was so boisterous in his joy.
That’s what I want to be.
The quote in the picture above goes for us that are grieving as well. Each one’s grief is unique, and sometimes it is difficult for us to put ourselves in another’s shoes especially when we are in pain ourselves. But, one cannot help another without helping himself.
It goes back to that old golden rule: Do unto others as you would have done unto you. If we want to be treated with grace and kindness, we must do the same.
Our challenge every day is to imagine and help.
And, we don’t have to have it all together or understand the crisis or tragedy of loss to help others.
I can hear my sweet Daddy reminding me of this. Almost every time I would say, I’m going to ask that when I get to Heaven, he would say, “No, you won’t. It won’t matter then, and you’ll be in such awe.” He’s right just like he was about almost everything. (My mother is convinced that I thought my Daddy could walk on water.)
Someday, when I get to see my Bob and all my loved ones again, I’ll know.
Something that we often forget is that “the” (Kubler-Ross) stages of grief were derived from studying anticipatory loss. That is, people who were facing their own death.
If one wasn’t “stuck” in staring death in the face, they wouldn’t be human. Seeing it that way reframes it. We aren’t stuck, just carrying the love.
Try not to let others frame your grief for you. This is your one and only life here on earth. Live it to your values, your needs.
My needs continue to be that he is with me.
This picture reminded me so much our of travels and our journey. While I miss the ability to hug him and hear his voice, I know that I carry him with me every day.
And, as I carry him with me, this is my goal: To carry him forward; to bring his light into the world. He was so boisterous in his joy. That’s what I want to be.
And, I pray that for you as well.
Every experience we go through is a learning experience! Grief just seems to strip us raw. It’s as if the learning begins at Age 0. Yet, as we do the work of grief, we find that we can indeed walk and sometimes form complete sentences, so we’re a bit further along than it feels.
Yes, it was several months before I could read with any comprehension. I was like, so I’m a university professor, what’s up with this? I recognized it as what some call, “Widow’s fog” or “Grief fog”, but I didn’t expect the fog to be so thick. At some point, the fog dissipated enough so that I could read.
Yet, it still seemed thick. And, I’ve come to realize that’s part of the ebb and flow. I pray that you are beginning to find at some contentment in the life you are living now.
Soon after I lost Bob, a friend who had been widowed in her 30’s told me that she wanted to be buried with a fork. Of course, this seemed odd, so I naturally asked why. She explained. “When I was young and attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, “Keep your fork.”
It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming …. like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!”
“So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder… “What’s with the fork?” Then I want you, the pastor or any one of my friends to tell them: “Keep your fork … the best is yet to come.”
That story meant a lot to me, because Bob is now in Heaven where the best is. So, now, every time I serve dessert or have dessert served at a dinner, I remember that the best is yet to come. I’ll see him again!
Just remember … keep your fork! The BEST is yet to come!
This describes my feelings so well. I was convinced that I would do better with this grief thing, because I am a Counselor and Counselor Educator who has taught grief counseling for over 12 years. I knew this stuff.
But no amount of academic knowledge in the mind can prepare you for the actual loss of your soulmate. We weren’t perfect. We were two flawed humans working through life together, but he was perfect for me. He loved me unconditionally!
It’s like the child trying to understand she’s not developmentally ready for trying to make sense of all of this. Still, at this point (28 months today), I can say that there are more good minutes in the day than bad. I’m moving forward with his love.
Just as ink on a page carries the story, his love has left an indelible imprint.
It surprises, almost shocks me, that I was so concerned with forgetting him when he first moved to Heaven. That’s impossible! He is mine, and I am his.
He made me who I am. He gave me our children and was my co-parent. He’s Papa to my Gogo. And all those other relationships and experiences we shared.
He will always be a part of me!
Love is an energy that behaves very much like the life-sustaining energies of air, food, and water. Research says that it takes our body about 3-4 days to experience the pain of not having food, 2-3 days to experience the pain of not having water, 1-2 minutes to experience the pain of not having air, and 1-2 seconds to experience being deprived of love.
Yet, we as a culture seem to insist that those who have lost someone they love simply “move on”. (“And, do that rather quickly, too, because it makes me uncomfortable” is the unspoken thread we hear.)
Years of research studies with physical conditions have now confirmed that “Love is nourishment like air, food, and water.” (Registered at the Library of Congress in 2003.)
So, if it’s taking you a minute to overcome the seeming deprivation of an intense love, that’s to be expected. Give yourself grace and time.
Continuing on this idea that love is an energy brought my mind to Maslow’s hierarchy. Love is a base need known as deficiency. These needs are required in order to function at all. And note that love is right down there with food, water air, and safety. We need love!
So, when a loved one passes away, we find ourselves searching for that love. Even infants practice this behavior. They don’t really understand the concept of death at all, but they know that someone is missing. Their brain begins searching for that person.
Grief is simply the unplaced energy of love. We know that the pain of grief is equal to the intensity of love. It simply goes back to our needs. Grief is a surety of life just as love.
Let’s help to make it comfortable enough to allow healing.
People kept telling me how strong I was. It was infuriating, exasperating, frustrating, and any other synonym that fits in that category. What choice did I have?
Yes, I could roll in the fetal position, throw a pity party, and give up on life. That is a choice, but one that most of us don’t want to take. So, we put one foot in the other, as it were, take that next step and move on – even on those days when we’d prefer not to.
Meriam-Webster defines courage as, “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or the ability to do something that frightens one”. Courage is not the absence of fear as many would have us believe, but the exact opposite. It is doing something even with the presence of fear.
It’s frightening to live this life without him, but I am glad I’ve fought through it. I’m getting to see our grandchildren grow up. I’m getting to keep him alive for them and for the world.
I pray that you will get to the point that you’re happy to be alive again.
When we find ourselves having to share that we have lost someone we deeply loved, the responses are varied. Most are not helpful, because the idea of loss is so uncomfortable. But, some are right down hurtful. Yet, what I’ve come do understand is that most just don’t know what to say, so they say anything that comes to mind at the time. This at times may sound like a blame game. For example, I’ve heard responses, both directly to me as well as said and related to me, such as:
I could go on, but I think this shows the essence of what I mean. The main point that I want to express is that people really don’t mean to be hurtful when they say these things. They don’t mean to be playing the blame game, even though it definitely feels that way at the time. What they are doing is what I call “insurance”. We’re all so afraid of death, or worse – being left alone by death – that we tell ourselves all kinds of things on a subconscious level. Some people simply let these subconscious thoughts out when faced with a situation too close to home, as it were.
First, try not to take it personally. They are simply attempting to insure that they won’t suffer the same fate. We really can’t do that, but we want so badly to be in control of our own lives that we attempt to even control our own fate. Most of the time, we aren’t really aware of this behavior. So, this is definitely an occasion of speaking without thinking, or at least conscious thought.
Second, try to give grace. When I first heard these things, I will admit that I was irritated. But, then I thought back to before I was here on this journey. I probably said things that sounded just as ridiculous, simply because I didn’t know. People can never truly understand a stage or a journey until it happens to them.
When we find ourselves having to share that we have lost someone we deeply loved, the responses are varied. Most are not helpful, but some are right down hurtful. What I’ve come do understand is that most just don’t know what to say, so they say anything that comes to mind at the time. This at times may sound like a blame game. For example, I’ve heard responses such as: Well, my husband takes care of himself, so that probably won’t happen to him.”
