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.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
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.”
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.
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.
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