New Years Eve and Alone

There is overwhelming silence when you live alone. It’s hard to conceive that I am 53 and living alone for the first time. I lived with my parents until I got married at 19. I became a mom at 22. Extremely uncomfortable and unbalanced with silence, I became the social director for my family and consistently filled our home with friends and laughter.

It has now been 376 days since my husband passed away. I miss him more than words can describe. I continue to experience such a range of emotions not having his arms and legs wrapped around me when I go to sleep. Waking up alone each and every morning only reinforces the reality that he is truly gone.

Each night snuggled securely in each other’s arms, we could be intensely intimate through touch, even without making love. Touch can offer a climax of passion that begins deep within your heart. I still find myself aching with raw emotions, reaching to retain the memory of his body against mine. There are times when I open the bathroom cabinet and the smell of my husband’s cologne is so strong it overwhelms me. With the smell of his presence, I close my eyes and hold him close.

The adjustment of traveling this journey alone has been terrifying. I know I have the choice to either make this transition move forward or settle and remain captive in my grief. There are days when the sadness overpowers me. The end of last year was spent existing in shock. Numbness and indifference pushed me through the year. I had moments when I felt somewhat confident yet they were gone as quickly as they came.

Now the end of the year is almost here. On New Years Eve I will be alone for the countdown. Even though I won’t feel my husband’s kiss at midnight, my soul will know he is there. I cherish the years we had together in this life and the love we shared.

When we look back at this year, what memories will we think about? What will we treasure the most?

What will I take forward with me, from this year filled with moments without my husband?

I will treasure memories of my family and friends, always there for me when I didn’t have the strength nor desire to stand on my own. Memories of honoring my husband by trying to do the best I could without him. Memories of hope.

Always treasure your special memories.

Happy New Year.

One Year

December 19, 2009

Walking the beach and listening to the ocean. A vacation? It definitely doesn’t feel like one. A vacation would include my husband. This trip is immensely beyond the horizon of my comfort zone. I am here alone, in a city I’ve never been, not knowing a single person.

This trip was planned around one day, December 19. The day last year when my husband left, no longer walk beside me in this life. A time in our marriage that my husband had unending peace and strength yet I was overcome with fear and weakness.

I’ve watched the sun come up and go down every morning. Walked up and down the beach for literally hours at a time. Hypnotized by the serenity of the ocean I’ve sat and cried. I thanked him for all of our memories. I honored his life.

“You’re stronger than you think you are” my husband kept telling me those last 24 days we spent together. I’d tell him through the tears “But I don’t want to be strong” as I felt my world crumbling in front of my eyes.

My man from the land of enchantment… he brought meaning to my world and guided me to be a better person.

My husband. One year as my Guardian Angel. I love you.

Rewriting the Story

December 18, 2009

Yesterday I walked around for hours not having a clue as to where I was going. It was like I was the only single person. I was surrounded by couples. I kept noticing that so many were walking side-by-side yet not talking, and no physical contact. I felt so deeply sad for them. Whenever my husband and I would walk down the street we were always talking, laughing, holding hands or with our arms around each other. He always walked next to the street. He always slept next to the door. His theory was they’d have to go through him to get to me. He was always protecting me. And many times he even protected me from me.

Beginning back from when I was a little girl, I developed the habit of ignoring things that I didn’t want to accept. Make believe that it wasn’t real. Make believe that it hadn’t really happened. Or make believe it happened a different way that was easier to accept. When I was in college I studied Narrative Therapy which explained a lot to me about how I think. It is about rewriting the story. We can’t go back in time to change what has happened in our life yet we can recreate the experience and change the memory.

I have wanted to believe that my husband isn’t really gone. That he will come back home. Last week in my dreams there was a knock at the door. Looking out the window I saw him. Clearly it was him. Wearing his red jacket, jeans and Cole Haans loafers, there he stood, waiting for me to open the door. He wasn’t facing the door so I couldn’t see his face, yet I knew beyond a doubt it was him.

That little girl inside me was still holding tightly to her dreams, to not accept reality. For so many years my make-believe world worked. Until now.

I’ve tried to rewrite the story yet the ending doesn’t change. I have lived this past year in a fog, only going through the motions of each day. I can’t ignore that I’m alone. I can’t ignore the silence and the loneliness. I can only change the way my heart listens to the thoughts of the little girl inside, the attitude I bring to my tomorrows…

A Lifetime

December 17, 2009

We do not remember days, we remember moments.
~ Cesare Pavese

While waiting in a crazy long line outside the airport to check my bag, I had a sinking feeling that I wasn’t going to make my flight. Anxiety intensified. Yet when it was finally my turn, the attendant told me to hurry, that I still might make it. Rushing inside it was like hitting a brick wall. I couldn’t even see the end of the line for security.

Despairingly, on the verge of tears I just couldn’t ask if anyone would let me in front of them. Lots of people were missing their flights and tempers were on a short leash, which I understood. Would I appreciate someone ahead of me letting people get in front? Why should they make their flight if it meant that I could then miss mine?

When I finally made it to the end of the line standing there was a student I befriended in one of my classes. She had shared with me her journey of being raised by a single mom. When she was still a young girl, her father passed away. Mature beyond her years, I remembered being humbled by this girl’s strong optimistic attitude. It was obvious that her memories with her dad reflected quality time together.

I needed this gentle reminder. Quality time is more important than quantity of time. Be thankful for the time we are given with people in this life. Focus to not spend time on what we don’t have anymore. Cherish our memories which are for a lifetime…

Changing Seasons

December 5, 2009

Live as though heaven is on earth
~ Alfred Souza

Changing seasons bring different meaning to mind. For me, cold weather means beans and cornbread made from a cast iron skillet. TV off, music on, and drinks in front of a warm fire. My husband and I used to build fires, turning out all the lights, and laying on the floor with blankets and pillows. No glamorous glitzy evening out on the town could compare with the magical evenings we shared without leaving our home.

There was a time when we bought a tree-filled building lot in the hill country of Texas. My husband promptly purchased a chainsaw and meticulously cut down the trees into stacks and stacks of firewood and cedar posts. Then situations changed, the lot and cedar posts were sold, and the firewood moved with us, twice.

Changing seasons now brings different meaning to me. Building a fire is so different. The routine of TV off, music on, and drinks in front of a warm fire continue. However now I sit the pillow on the floor and my husband is no longer by my side. He has received the gift of Eternal Life and now watches over me as my Guardian Angel.

There are days where I live in the past. I put myself back in situations that brought us happiness. Doing so produces aggressive tidal waves of emotionality. I reach for strength from deep within my soul. At times I feel like I do not exist so I try to focus…

Secret of the Fox

November 22, 2009

To talk about my husband in past tense is extremely difficult. When he passed away everything in my world changed. I’ve never lived alone before. It’s never been just me. To wake up all alone just doesn’t seem natural.

When my husband retired he took over everything. He managed our finances, the laundry, even taking my clothes to the cleaners. He went to the grocery store. He did all the cooking. I would wake up to coffee and breakfast on the table. Everyday he would cut up an apple for me to take for lunch and he would always drive me to work on the first day of teaching at each new semester. There were lots of days he drove me to work just because; just because he wanted to talk and for us to spend more time together.

The life that I lived blinked off the screen. My world of us, we, ours… that world doesn’t exist anymore.

I feel like I have been dropped off in space. I don’t know how to function, how to just be. I have to relearn, to rewire the way I think. How do I live as one? How will I know what to do? Who will listen to me late at night when I have a bad dream? Who will I talk to about all the little things I used to talk about with my husband?

What do I do with all the time I have since he isn’t here to share this journey with me? How do I learn to live without the man who walked beside me for over 20 years?

Antoine De Saint-Exupery offered wisdom in “The Little Prince” that has stood the test of time. This book teaches the secret of what is really important in life. There is one quote that really speaks to me and I often remind myself of the message. “Good-bye” said the fox. “Here is my secret: One sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eye.”

Smile because it happened.

Over 11 months have now passed since my husband left for Eternal Life...

I am still trying to come to terms with living my life without him...

... Celebrate Love ... Dream for Hope ...

Going Home

November 12, 2009

All Dorothy needed to do was click her ruby red slippers together three times and repeat the words ”There’s no place like home.” She is my role model for self-discovery, for personal power and believing in myself.

I also agreed with Dorothy that there was no place like home. Home is where you would celebrate birthdays, graduations, and holidays because there was nothing better than a house filled with family, friends and laughter. Home was where I would sit with my husband talking for hours about nothing and about everything. It was where we laughed about funny things from the past and planned for the new adventures in our future. It was always my safe place. My husband and home would protect me from the worries and pressures of the world.

Home was also where my husband wanted to be when he knew his days on this earth were limited.

After Hospice was called we had 24 days. We sat together and held hands. We talked about our life together. He told me I was stronger than I gave myself credit for. He helped me make a list of how to take care of our home, when to change the oil in my car. He had me write down words of wisdom and what he wanted our grandchildren to know about him. No longer were there plans for our future. I didn’t want to let him go. I didn’t want him to leave me. I asked him if he believed in reincarnation. I told him through the tears that I have to believe he would hear my prayers.

After my husband left for Eternal Life our home became so quiet. I deeply miss hearing the sounds of his presence. Being quiet wasn’t his nature. He loved to laugh and had so much fun making up songs and jingles using various voices and accents. I often told him he should volunteer to read books to children or record books on tape for the blind.

When we would go shopping I could always find him because he would walk around whistling. I still find myself turning around to look for him when I hear that sound. I remember how he would hide behind something even after he knew I saw him. He would always make me laugh. We had so much fun together.

If only I had ruby slippers and could go back to home. Home to the world I shared with my husband.

I keep reminding myself of his favorite quote by Dr. Seuss…

Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.

Holding Me Tight

October 24, 2009

One morning I woke up and didn’t feel alone. Instantly my thoughts raced, maybe if I turn over slowly I’ll see my husband laying beside me. What if this had all been just a dream?

For many years I went to sleep and then woke up wrapped in my husband’s arms. After my husband left for Eternal Life I slept in the living room in his chair. I couldn’t bring myself to return to our bed. To sleep curled up in his chair made me feel safe like I did when he put his arms around me and held me tight.

On the second month anniversary of his passing, I sat on our bed, something I had not done since he left. I would just look at our bed when I walked past it on my way to the shower, especially at his USGA throw draped across the corner. When the men from the funeral home took him out of the house, the throw was draped over his legs. My daughter walked beside me as I followed them… This wasn’t going to be like the time the ambulance took him to the hospital. This time he would never be coming back home.

It was then, two months since he left our home that my emotions won the tug-of-war. I had shoved them deep down inside for more than a year. During his my husband’s illness for me to acknowledge my feeling hadn’t been an option. My whole focus and purpose had been to care for him, physically, emotionally and spiritually. I needed to show him I was strong and that he didn’t need to worry about me. We needed to use all of our energy and concentrate in saving his life. We both did everything that was asked of us and more. We were focused to live and without regrets.

Recently a woman shared with me she gave everything of her husbands away that first week after he died. The only thing she kept was his pajamas which she sleeps in every night. I couldn’t tell her that we didn’t own pajamas.

All of my husband’s things are still in the closets. I used to question myself on why. Am I only making it harder on myself? What was the reason I couldn’t let them go? Joan Didion, the author of “The Year of Magical Thinking” wrote that she couldn’t give her husband’s shoes away because she thought he would need them when he returned. I have accepted that it’s OK if I’m not ready to give anything of his away. I don’t have to have a reason.

I have never been a “stuff” person which goes back to my mantra of quality over quantity always.

Right now I know I need his stuff with me. I still keep his t-shirts organized by color just like he always did. I know that would make him smile since I always kidded him about doing that.

Now every night with his shirts wrapped around me I feel his touch as I lay down in the middle of our bed. I talk to him just as if he’s laying right there with me. Then I ask him to hold me, hold me tight.

Hopes & Dreams

October 20, 2009

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross suggested in her book Death, The Final State of Growth, "Learing to re-invent yourself in living when you have lost someone you love is very difficult but only through doing so can you give meaning to that person’s death.” Regardless of the situation, when we experience a loss that touches our soul, the planned map for our future life quickly disappears.

There are so many questions that flood your thoughts and spin faster and faster. The two most overwhelming questions for me are “Who am I?” and “What do I want to do with my life?”

Until recently I never realized how much of my identity was based around family. I don’t remember a time when decisions were based solely on me and what I wanted. My days started and ended in conversation with a man who knew me better than I knew myself. We shared our hopes and dreams. We had plans and talked about our future… being grandparents, another vacation in San Francisco, going to Australia.

All of that ended when I became a widow.

Living in today feels like I am living in another person’s life. I don’t really feel like “me” anymore. Some days are more difficult than others. It is a constant rollercoaster of emotions accepting that my world will never go back to normal. What I knew as normal won’t be again. Living in the past is both comforting and heartbreaking. Living in the future is a fog, and it’s incomprehensible.

I have found peace, knowing that my man would always be, from the wisdom of a woman who was married over 60 years to her childhood sweetheart. When asked how she was doing she replied, “Honey it just doesn’t get any easier, it only becomes more permanent.”

Playing Make-Believe

October 20, 2009

All things for a reason… A quote I have said for more years than I can remember. A quote that I honestly always believed in.

But now I don’t. Because if that was true then why? Why didn’t my trio of saints answer my prayers? Saint Rita, all things are possible, Saint Anthony, all things can be found, Saint Jude, all things will glorify God’s name. I prayed to them every morning, asking that through the intercession of their prayers and God’s perfect will, my prayers would be answered. But when I prayed the hardest I had ever prayed in my life, they weren’t answered. Or were they?

In March 2006 we thought my husband had a cold. The EKG showed several silent heart attacks. Stents were put in and life didn’t change; for him or for me. Or so we thought.

January 7, 2008. I left for work at 7AM. A few hours later I get a message to call my daughter. “Call her now. It’s important”. Somehow I knew, even before I ever heard her voice. “He’s been trying to reach you. He drove himself to the hospital. Not to worry though, he says he’s fine”. But I knew he wasn’t, or he wouldn’t have gone to the hospital and then life changed for both of us; an open heart surgery had taken place.

For the next 3 months our lives did not include an alarm clock. We went for daily walks and slowly he rebuilt his strength. Short walks became longer ones. He told me he wished I was retired too, so this could be our life. I did wish it too. We slept late and took naps. We spent 24 hours a day together. Our world had been rocked hard and we now realized just how fragile life was and how fragile his heart was.

September 2008. My husband listed for a heart transplant. It helped that he always took care of his health. Complete physicals, eyes, teeth, flu shots, each year and every year. We ate healthy; wheat not white, pepper not salt, grilled not fried. A window had been opened with the opportunity of a new heart. We had renewed hope.

But is this really happening? What if I just pretended we were living in the Truman Show? If I unzip the sky, could we escape from this world spinning out of control?

I had never experienced such a deep paralyzing fear. I thought to myself; can I kiss him goodbye and let them take him, knowing they are going to take out his heart and put in a new one from a donor? He always taught me quality over quantity, always. So asking for a new heart for him, were we really then asking for quantity of his life over quality?

But I never had to make that decision… In 2 months while waiting of a donor his heart had become too weak. There was only one decision left to make, return to the hospital or call Hospice. I didn’t have to ask my husband. I knew his answer. I told his doctor I was taking him home.

I am eternally thankful for the time we had and that he didn’t have pain and his dignity to the very end. Never showing sadness or fear, he humbled me with his strength. He never lived like he was dying. He held on to my knee as I sat beside him on the bed. I knew he didn’t want to leave me. December 19 at 4:00 AM while I held his hands he left. No longer would he walk beside me in this life.

So really, how can all things be for a reason? For what reason wasn’t a donor found in time? For what reason was our world torn apart? Why during the most devastating situation I have ever faced, was the person who loved me more than anyone not by my side? How could all that we went through be for a reason?

Gone are the days of playing make-believe. Situations will enter our world that we have no control over. No matter how much we try, we can never run fast enough to avoid them. We will have questions yet never receive answers. Maybe the reality is that all things are not for a reason. Maybe the real truth is simply, it is what it is.

Questions

I continue to ask myself who am I?

Who am I now that I stand alone?

It's never been just me. And now it is.

Deep in my heart I know that my husband is here with me.

He stand not by my side. He lives in my heart, in my soul.

How do I find peace?

How do I find the courage to move forward?

A full moon in Port Aransas ...

When you were born,

you cried

and the world rejoiced.

Live your life

so that when you die,

the world cries

and you rejoice.

Always.

There are no words. My world turned upside down. Go. Go with the Angels I told him. My heart was breaking with sadness. He was so tired. He had tried so hard. His courage never wavered. His final wish was answered. He woke up one morning with no more medicine, no more pain. He is now at peace. He is sitting with the angels and saints. Eternal life is his.

My husband had been in my world half of my life. Literally half of my life I've had conversations with this man. Shared laughter. Experienced sad times, difficult times. We knew each other's thoughts. He was my best friend, the love of my life. Our souls will be connected. Always.

And now I sit and listen to the silence.

I'm so lost without him.