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.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Saturday, December 19, 2009
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.
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.
Friday, December 18, 2009
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…
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…
Thursday, December 17, 2009
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…
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…
Saturday, December 5, 2009
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…
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…
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
Posts
