We write about widowhood as we live it. Together we examine the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of life as a widowed person. The views expressed here are those held by each individual author. We take no credit for their brillance; we just provide them with a forum for expressing their widowed journey in words that are uniquely their own.
Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation
▼
Thursday, July 23, 2009
A Thin Thread
I've always felt like I related to this art piece made by my sister-in-law. It reminds me of pain. Of strength. Of holding on. Of hope. Do you ever feel like you're hanging on by the thinnest thread? I had been running on empty for a while now... feeling dry and indifferent... Feeling like I had given everything that I had to give, leaving nothing left for me. The past few weeks, like usual, have been a whirlwind. But this whirlwind has been an extremely personal one- intimate even. This whirlwind... took my soul for a ride and dropped it off in a dark alley. In the alley...my tear's flood gates busted open, my heart screamed of pain and my body lay limp, in shock of so much emotion. I've noticed that there's usually a point for me in the midst of this kind of pain when I choose to hold on to that thin thread or let go. If I consider letting go, even for a split second, letting go will be the direction I take. And so, in the dark alley where I thought no one would be looking, my thin thread held strong but I stopped fighting...I let it go.
Over the next few hours I saw nothing but the pain the past 18 months have brought me... I saw only the unfair, unjust, and ugly. My mouth opened to speak but sound failed to escape. I told my body to move but it denied me. I held onto nothing and let myself fall dangerously further into my loss, jealousy, and anger. I tried to recall everything that would wound me further. I didn't care. I didn't crave relief. I didn't want comfort. Finally, air escaped my lungs and as if a switch had been flipped, my eyes dried up. I looked around and realized... somehow I had made it from my bed (my dark alley) to the floor of my shower. Despite my efforts to hide, comfort found me.
Life. I kept thinking. Life.
Life, can be my curse if I let it. Life... I can hate. Or in life... I can hope. I thought again about the past 18 months. This time, allowing myself to remember the places in which I have found strength... in a good listener, in memories, in the bond of another widow, in grace, in David... most recently, I found hope in the birth of new life- David's niece. Even though these things at some point brought me strength to put one foot in front of the other, I attempt to recognize where these things have all derived...
God. I thought out loud.
With that realization, I took a deep breath and replaced my thin thread... with something new... Hope.
Wow, I like it.
ReplyDeleteNicole,
ReplyDeleteThis really spoke to me ...... as I, too, have been hanging on by the barest of threads the last couple of months.
Thank you for speaking to my heart .... and for choosing hope.
Janine
Nicole,
ReplyDeleteChills as usual. I love you so much. Thank you for writing out the pain and despair, hope and fight that I often can't put down into words. You are such a beautiful soul.
Love,
Lotter ;)
Thank God breathing comes automatically because there are times I have not had the strength to take another breath on my own. In my own journey I have learned this prayer, "God, I can not do this...alone."
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing so openly and honestly. You are a writer!! Keep writing! Love you, Glenda
I'm a widow, too, and have definitely come to see the 'power' of hope. Recently, I saw (and copied) the following quote that I related to and think will also make complete sense to you...
ReplyDelete"Once you choose hope, anything is possible. Learn from yesterday. Live for today. Hope for tomorrow."