Every once in awhile I am able to see myself through another person's eyes; sort of like looking up and seeing an image in a mirror, and then realizing the face that is reflected there is yours. The observations from these unguarded moments usually provide some serious food for thought.
Recently I went to see the movie Brothers. I will leave out the movie review, but will tell you that I would probably not have watched this show had I not been with a friend who really wanted to see the film. Brief synopsis: An excellent family man who is in the military goes back for a second tour of duty and ends up being captured. His family thinks he is dead, and grieves his loss. He is then restored to them (this part really hurt...how many times have you wished your spouse's death was all a terrible mistake??) but has been altered due to the horrific experience of being held captive. Not a feel good movie by any stretch of the imagination.
There was a scene, however, that provided a glimpse into my life. At one point the bad boy character is trying to help his brother's widow "feel better." He plans a birthday party for her, complete with a cake baked by her two adorable girls. There are guests, decorations, gifts, candles, and of course everyone yells surprise as she walks in the door. Then the camera pans around the room and you see the exact same look on every face. Expectancy. Did it work? Is she happy? Will she stop wearing the look of death on her face? Have we communicated to her how much we love her? ARE WE ENOUGH? And that last one hit me right in the stomach. Because as widowed people we constantly carry around the weight of other's concerns, fears, sadness, and yes, their wishes for our ultimate happiness...as we are observed, discussed, fretted over, and advised by good meaning folks of all types.
The heroine in this scene looks a little dazed. She obviously understands the reaction that is expected from all the people surrounding her with loving birthday wishes, and yet grief is clearly present in the room. Her need to acknowledge her painful loss clashes with the needs of her loved ones to know that she will one day recover. These same people want to be reassured that they are enough to make her happy, that she will choose to live again because she wants to share her life with them too. As I watched this scene I felt the weight of the wishes that the people in my own life hold close to their hearts for me, and for my children. My shoulders felt heavy, and my heart ached, viscerally I experienced the feeling of being loaded down. The most difficult part was that the load was full of good things...wishes for happiness, wishes for wholeness, wishes for the ability to laugh freely, wishes for the unspoken lines of grief that mark my face to fade away, wishes for good things in our future, wishes for life to be a little kinder to our family, and wishes for the past to not always overshadow the future.
As I watched this actress play my part, I suddenly realized that I have carried the weight of all of the good wishes of my friends and family for over four years. I dragged them around with me even when I couldn't believe that any of them would ever come true. Each wish has been piled on top of the next, and I have been walking around like an overloaded juggler trying not to drop any one of the wonderful things that the amazing people in my life hope for me. The idea of putting them down and letting someone else carry the load for me never crossed my mind.
Seeing myself through the mirror of film, struggling to honor my loss and also to acknowledge the possibility of my future, made the weight of wishing shockingly clear. I wish I had known that my loving friends and family are free to wish as many good things for me as they can dream up, and I am free to be grateful for their kindness and allow them to carry the weight.
"are we enough?" that is the question. is the life we are left with enough? what do we do with it? my children are in their early twenties and on their own, but they want me back. they want the mom they knew to come back. from where? i don't know where i've gone but you've given me food for thought. though the people in my own life can be counted on one hand, still your reference to their wishing good things for me rings true. thank you for putting it so gently.
ReplyDeletePowerful post. I could definitely relate. I do need to let my friends/family carry the weight of their wishes. My load is heavy enough right now.
ReplyDeleteThere are worse things than people who love you wanting you to be happy again.
ReplyDeleteGreat Post, so many times I have been cheerful around friends and family, because I do not want to bring them down. But sometimes this is so difficult, because although I am grateful on so many levels, I am still so sad on others. But because I tend to do this, they oftn do not understand how I am missing my husband. Recently a friend scolded me for leaving an event without saying goodbye. I had to go back and explain to her that the last time I attended that event it had been with my husband and being there made me a little sad so rather than stay I decided it was best to leave and go home to lick my wounds. She apologized, but now probably has a better understanding of what I go through daily, even though I do not talk about it.
ReplyDeletewow! what a wonderful powerful post. Thanks once again for your words.
ReplyDeleteI could have written this , word for word all by myself ... have felt , and still do this weight ... but .... will now try ro accept with grace their good wishes that are all wrapped up in love , and let THEM carry the weight ...as others have said , it is hard enough to function without this added dilema....... Im writing from the very besutiful Kingdom of fife in bonnie scotland.... widow/widower-hood is so universal and crosses all social and cultural boundaries... love and blessings to all ... fiona ...x
ReplyDeleteMy experience has left me with mixed feelings. My friends were great for about a month or two, then came the calls with people asking me to go out all of the time (which I was not in a good space to do). After that, people still call but they do not realize how long one is bereaved. The exhaustion from grieving goes on for a long time. I still (16 months out) come home from work too tired to make dinner, or sometimes think it would be nice if someone called and said "I'll come over with a pizza" instead of asking me if want to go out to dinner. I'm tired. Am I expecting too much?
ReplyDeleteI was really sad yesterday and mentioned to a friend (who is a life coach) that I just missed Jeff so much that some days it was hard to be "pleasant" to everyone. She wanted me to talk to a friend of hers who is a life coach so I could figure out what I wanted to do with my life. Really? I was irritated that because I felt sad, that I needed someone to help me be happy. You know what? I'm grieving and it's ok to be sad and tired and confused. People just don't get it, that's for sure. To anon above, you're not expecting too much - you do need to ask sometimes though because people just don't understand. I got a call tonight that invited me over for pizza. I declined gracefully and then ordered pizza in. :-)
ReplyDeleteThanks to Lyn (from the anon above you responded to) for your supportive response. I hear you that you are not looking to figure out what to do with your life. I've had that one pulled on me, too. Like I'm suddenly supposed to have all of my days mapped out. UGH. I didn't do that before, why would I do it now? Keep the faith, and thanks again.
ReplyDeleteExcellent post Michele. It never occured to me that I was also walking around carrying all these well wishes. And yes, it is such a big burden. I can almost feel the sensation of added weight everytime someone throws a line at me about "how things will get better," "you deserve nothing but happiness now," "love will come your way again," and so on, and so on.
ReplyDeleteNow I just look at them with a bit of a blank stare, and with little inflection in my voice, say, "thanks."