Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Business of Change

Today marks 869 days since Maggie’s Angel Day. Being that specific implies more preoccupation than is truly representative of my mental state. But being that specific makes me think about how far I’ve come and how far I’ve still to go. (I’ll save you the math: 869 days is roughly 124 weeks, 29 months or just nearly 2 ½ years. From official diagnosis to her Angel Day, 850 days passed. So as of today, 20 more days have passed since her Angel Day than the length of her “official” illness.)

For nearly 2 ½ years I’ve let a bouquet of roses sit on the counter on her side of the bathroom. To me, those dried flowers were just part of the room. I can’t even say I really noticed them every day. Beside the vase that held the dried roses sat her driver’s license, placed there the day I stopped carrying it around in my pocket several hundred days ago. Several hundred days - it’s uncomfortable to call that out but it’s very real. It’s my life.

So, without fanfare or grand circumstance, I made a change. No lighting struck. No drums rolled. No sad music played. It was just me, the puppies and my staid emotions as I carried the dried bouquet of roses to the back of our my house. I grabbed the bunch by the stems, crunched them together as the brittle peddles disintegrated, and tossed them onto the compost pile. It was done.

How is it that I’ve been ok with a bouquet of roses that has been sitting in the same spot for years? My psychologist, the one I’ve seen weekly since Maggie became very ill, calls this state of inertia “business as usual.” In my professional life, I’ve never stood for business as usual. Yet, in my personal life, I had a bouquet of roses sitting on the counter in my bathroom for years – more than 850 days. From now on, business as usual is now the business of change.

What started in the bathroom has been spreading. A few days ago, the business of change overthrew a pile of crushed dreams in the corner of the kitchen that has gathered much dust. Stacks of receipts from closed bank accounts, letters from the court, change of relationship forms, and unused death certificates have lied where they fell after completing their last call of duty. Now, untouched for probably more than a year, these papers have become a pile of pins and needles that I occasionally ran my hand through but mostly avoided. As of today, that pile is gone and its contents appropriately sorted and filed in the filing cabinet under “Crap That Sucks.”

While I was meddling in that area of the kitchen, I took down five pictures of Maggie that I had taped up to the tile years ago. In some of the pictures, she was cuddling Nurse Jolie’s new-born daughter Anya making loving baby faces I’d never get to see as she held our own new-born children. Another picture was a favorite that she had given me to keep in my briefcase as I traveled. Her glowing smile reminded me of happier, more-innocent days. All those pictures are packed away now and that wall looks bare.

It’s an odd feeling, doing this. Yes, I feel sad but I also feel a sense of cleansing or of refreshing. I don’t feel like I’m betraying Maggie and that’s the best thing. I really thought I’d be struggling with that but that specific feeling is conspicuously absent and its absence is, well, welcome. In fact, I feel less like I’m putting away and more like I’m making room.

15 comments:

  1. Hi Chris.
    Your writing today hit me. There sure is a business in the death of our spouses, and I do like your file label. It is 801 days since my husband died of cancer. Yes, just over two years. I don't really think of it in days, even though in the beginning of this awful grief, making it through each day was a victory. I had to move from our home to a new city one year after his death. I was forced to change everything, sort through his belongings,and pack away the important things. In our new home,only a few of his pictures are up, but not as many as the first year. All of his books are not lining the shelves, mostly mine now. For me, it is just as you said, making room. It is kind of "freeing" from what I know I lost. It has never felt as if I have diminished the love we had, it is forever. The kids and I talk about him everyday. I loved him with my whole heart willingly and joyfully just as our vows were said, 'till death do us part. That love is forever, no matter where the future takes me. I wish you peace.

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  2. Hey Chris. I've done the same, in that I'm trying to not fill my home with what I call ghosts and land mines. Of course it was easier to do, as I moved last year. But, there was the conscious decision to not unpack those things that I felt would trip me up from moving forward. Yet as I say this there are some dry flowers on the bathroom counter that placed by his urn last year on his birthday. Funny how they moved from the bedroom, yet took up residence in the bathroom.

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  3. Charles side of the bathroom has his two bottle of cologne and his watch box. I still set the watches when the watch box fails to keep the time (usually someone has turned off the watch box). I'm at 317 days without him but at 1,135 days of facing a future that wasn't what we planned. It's nice to know I'm not crazy for keeping his side oh the bathroom in check.

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  4. Thank you Chris. I still have several "Crap That Sucks" piles around the house. I love what you said "From now on, business as usual is now the business of change"
    I am working on changing for the better and "making room" but don't necessarily feel like I am betraying Dave. Thank you for sharing.

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  5. The real meaning of 'Grief work'.

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  6. Your writing and message are eloquent as usual Chris. It is 681 days since Tim's death and a "shrine" of pictures and roses still awaits the day when I am able to do what you have done for yourself and for Maggie. Today, I planned a ceremony with our family to honor the last 2 years without Tim's physical presence and the 31 years we shared. I am having a "Hawk Walk" at our/my home where the hawk handlers allow us to touch, feed and watch the hawks soar high above. We both loved hawks and in folklore, the hawk symbolizes a messenger between the physical and spiritual worlds. Maybe I'll get a message to move forward...I know the time will come and I will be okay.

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  7. the business of change is tough, awful but once we decide to undertake this business-- we usually do so with a fierce determination. i'm sorry that you have to go through this, but i'm thankful that you are facing it head on and that you have this community to support you. sending love!

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  8. I'm at 15 months (463 days).
    I remember in the early weeks and months, desperately not wanting to move on. Moving on meant moving away from Dave.

    I've since cleared out a very small part of his belongings. I'm think I'm emotionally ready to start purging, and actually think I will feel better once it's done. But I just lose the motivation to do so when it really comes down to getting off my butt and doing it!

    I need the continued inspiration of this blog! :)

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  9. Great post! I will hit two years next month, and I have not moved much. All the clothing still in the closets and drawers. Nothing moved from the garage. I have noticed that some people need to clear their loved one's items out right away, others, like me, feel more secure and comfortable keeping them. My belief is that when the time is right, when you can do it without emotion, then do it. This morning I dropped one of my shirts in the closet and when I bent down to pick it up, I saw all of his shoes lined up. What a sting. Why are the shoes so much harder to look at then the clothes? I don't know when the right time will be for me, call me crazy, but it hasn't happened yet. The furthest I've come is the thought of moving his clothing to another closet in an unused bedroom. I can't do that yet, either. Maybe I'm in denial, I don't know. It's pain and comfort all at the same time. I'm glad for you that you are at a point where you can do it. It means healing.

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  10. I don't know what it is about the shoes either. They hit harder than the clothes for me too. Seeing them sitting around was like they were waiting for him to come home. I was the "clear it all out or I'll go completely insane" type. The shoes did me IN and I wanted them GONE.
    The workout room is the shrine now, where all his clothes and teaching stuff live. I go out there and visit his things every once in a while, but I don't have to look at them unless I want to. I have a HUGE shop full of his tools and fishing gear I can't touch, though. I truly don't know when/if I'll be able to deal with that. But when I am, I like the idea of making room instead of putting away.

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  11. Wow. 986 days today. How can it be 1000 days in 2 weeks? In some ways it feels like yesterday and in some ways, it feels like forever. I needed this post today. I've been very slow to deal with his things - the box from the memorial is still sitting where I left it when I came home, though I have moved some of his clothes to another closet. I paid someone to clean my garage the other day (trying to help them get on their feet) and when I walked in the relief was palpable. I didn't realize how much the clutter was weighing on me until it was done. It would have taken me forever to do it, because of the emotional attachment and reliving of memories - but it only took my friend a few hours. And I got to help someone else in the process. It definitely felt like a weight was lifted and that I was "making room". It has given me the motivation to start working on the other parts of the house and finally start dealing with the rest of his stuff. Thanks for your insight.

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  12. Full house moving is composed of one task after another that causes us much stress. Moving to a new home brings excitement and thrill yet it also gives us a lot of headaches due to all the tasks that need to be done.

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  13. To Cassie, above - I also had a garage full of tools and motorcycle parts to face after my husband died. I had to make some quick decisions because I knew I couldn't go through the upcoming winter in our house in snowy Utah, alone. (We were only there temporarily for his job.) I had some good friends go through the tools and parts, and take what they could use, but there was a huge amount of tools left. Looking at them broke my heart every day, and taking them with me cross-country just to hurt me some more didn't make sense. So, I donated them to the local community college for their automotive program. A friend handled it while I wasn't home, and I felt like it was a good decision.

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  14. Ah, yes the tools...my husband was a contractor, and the tools now lay in our/my 2 car garage, sorted somewhat on makeshift tables of plywood. They have been there since June, I'm still not sure what their future is. Thanks, Diane, I do like the idea of donating them eventually to a school, I'll have to look into that. I think my husband would agree with that decision. After all, who needs 50+ screwdrivers?? I'll soon be "making room", too.

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  15. Great post! I think the clearing out is very therapeutic. And the business of change, changes too! Things I feel I needed to keep one year, I get rid of later, wondering why I felt I needed to keep it in the first place - must have been important at some point. But, that's the beauty in it all! Keep it up!

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