Avoidance has been a common theme for me in my journey.
I avoid thinking about or dealing with Ian's death by overloading myself with work and study.
And I'm still doing that to a degree, but I have a counsellor who's poking and prodding me along the journey of dealing with it all.
Sometimes I'd swear Mike is here with me. I keep getting the sensation of his presence...or maybe, my mind and heart are just working overtime to remember. To remember how it felt when he was in the room with me. The sound of his breath, his footsteps...how he looked, the familiar freckles on his forearms, his latest mustache creation, his favorite camo t-shirt. That bright, childlike smile he wore. It's like I don't want to forget that feeling of being next to him, or the way his essence permeated my daily life.Read more
Time carries a different meaning now, since Chuck died.
I shuddered the other day when I realized that he's been dead for 15 months. In our 24 years together, we've never been apart this long.
15 months. I still don't remember what it felt like to have him next to me and it still kills me that this is so. I look at pictures and they are only memories, times that will never be again.
And yet, it was only a heart beat since he and I danced in Death Valley in what would turn out to be our last dance.
John's hospital stay threw me out of sync. Not just in terms of the stress that came out of that situation with the additional health implication for him because of Daddy's illness, but I've lost another week of time in my brain...
I still feel like I lost a year.
Over the weekend our church community celebrated the marriage of two members, and friends there celebrated their 18th wedding anniversary, so the discussions naturally drifted to how long various couple have been together/married. So I joined in talking about how long I'd known Ian and how long we would have been married.
And I keep missing a year - the 2012/13 Australian financial year is pretty much gone. Even writing this post I've had to sit and really think about dates and time. I hate that it's not off the top of my head, that I need to go back and mentally calculate - "it's 2014, we married in 2011, that makes three years since we got married".
So, today is the 4th of July. I do not have any plans. In exactly 9 days from now, on July 13th, it will be the 3-year anniversary of Don's sudden death. I think that what happened is that I got so anxious and determined to make sure I had a plan for that day, that I completely forgot about the major holiday that comes the week before, and all the trauma and guilt and anxiety associated with it for me. So now, here I sit, wondering once again, just like last year, how to handle this very complicated day, which brings sadness and numbness to me, usually without even trying.
I am going to copy below, a portion of the blog that I wrote in here last year on this same day. Not because I am too lazy to write something else, (well, maybe that's part of it) but because what it says is EXACTLY the same thing I want to say again this year, because I still have not been able to figure this all out in my mind, and I still don't like "celebrating" on the 4th of July. It is sort of weird that, in this particular area, I feel like I have not had forward motion or any breakthroughs at ALL in my thought process. I had hoped I would feel differently about this day now, than I did a year ago. But I don't. So that is why the exact same words I wrote last year, are just as relevant today. Here is a part of what I wrote last year on this day:
Do you ever have those moments, where you can't really explain why or how, but you just know that the person you lost whom you loved most, is nearby, or in the room with you? It is more of a feeling really - rather than something that can be analyzed or broken down. Sometimes it is inside the gust of wind that whispers by on a cold, crisp autumn day. Other times it is hiding within the melody of a beautiful song, or in someone else's laugh or smile or voice. You hear them. You see them. You feel them. There is no need to question it's reality, because it just is. It exists inside of you, and all around you, surrounding you like air that only you can breathe in.Read more
In the beginning, I couldn't imagine talking about anything else. Did you hear? My husband died. I'm a widow. You have something else to talk about? Why? Is there anything else in the entire world that matters as much as this fact?Read more