Michael loved Calvin and Hobbes:
A kid's pretend friend that he asked lifes big and not-so-big questions to. An invisible tiger that always seemed to help guide him through his childhood.
Michael became that tiger to me when he died...he became the person I talked to for guidance...who I asked life's questions to. But the response I knew would never come from him...it would have to be felt and heard by me and me alone. But still, I asked. I screamed and cried for reasoning to this tragedy before me.
As time has passed though, I've noticed that fewer and fewer of those questions on life, do I want, or even need an answer to. Just as a child grows up not needing a fictitious animal to guide their way.
In no way am I stating that I don't still lean on my baby in the toughest of moments, but I've realized that the moments where I have been the most incapacitated by grief, are when I have been thinking about nothing but the future, the world in front of me without him by my side.
2012 is carrying a new constant that I know would make him happy, and I know brings a smile to my face. One I picked up along the in 2011.
A constant that freed me from the constraints of life that my pain and loss had me chained down with... had imprisoned me with its uncertainty.
The constant of living now...and nothing more.
I know the future will be what I make of it, but my present...my present was awaiting me to embrace it...and for more than just a second...I have done so.
Nice post. And wonderful insight in your statement "I've realized that the moments where I have been the most incapacitated by grief, are when I have been thinking about nothing but the future, the world in front of me without him by my side"
ReplyDeleteSo true, Each day is a gift.
Thank you.
Taryn,
ReplyDeleteI LOVE Calvin and Hobbes. Perfect philosophy.
Lately, I have been excited to wake up. Only because I have a list of things I want to do - things in the day I have planned and am looking forward to doing. Small things, once in awhile big things.
At first I thought - have you forgotten already?
Then I realized no, I am living. Living in the present.
I know my husband would have wanted that.
But like you the intense grief comes because it is the realization that it is just me now. I am on my own. Making my own decisions. Usually like Calvin now my comments are statements not questions . . . along the line of "look at that Honey, they are building a huge student condo on one of our favourite streets" or "I know you might be wondering what I am doing but I have a plan!".
Sometimes I imagine his comments back. But its different now.
I am here.
Living.
I am so surprised and so grateful.
I feel so similarly. I am still less than 1 year out, but feel like it's now up to me to continue living. Because I can... and he cannot. I need to do it for me, for the both of us.... I have also found that "Living"... having plans big and small... allow me to keep moving forward too. And I try to enjoy every moment... sunrises, sunsets, the colors of leaves... all of it. The waves of grief too, but mostly the ability to live and enjoy what is still out there to experience.
DeleteBeautifully written and excellent thought, to live in the now! Great reminder!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written and excellent thought, to live in the now! Great reminder!
ReplyDeleteI love Calvin and Hobbes, too, such simple words looking at the big picture.
ReplyDeleteYes, focusing on the future w/o the one you love by your side is a difficult thing to do. I try not to look too far ahead or else I become overwhelmed by it all. Focus on what needs to be done today, and tomorrow will fall into place. Who knows, you may not even be here tomorrow either, and all that worry about it is for naught. Be here now.
I have to join in and say that I have the same philosophy. Throughout the 4 years that my husband was living with cancer, people would say, "I can't believe that you're doing so well" etc. etc. But this was my secret, I was living EVERY moment in the present. It wasn't conscious, it just happened. It took some time for me to identify it but that's why I was able to cope, to smile, find joy and pleasure in our time together. That's why I was so grateful. After he died, it slipped away. Besides my grief I was filled with fear of what the future would bring, how wouldI handle life alone, what if I got sick, how would I afford to live etc. etc. Being 2 years, 5 months and 21 days out I'm realizing that I am once again beginning to live in the present, once again, it was not a conscious decision. It is just happening.
ReplyDeleteJust a snippet of my experience to complement Taryn's thoughtful post.
Great advice Taryn!
ReplyDeleteDuring the 6 months Dave & I fought his cancer, I mostly refused to consider the future - out sheer terror mainly. But doing so allowed me to often rest and think, "He's here now. Savour this time." And those moments are the most special memories. Laying there with him and just feeling his presence by my side.
It's a constant struggle, but I daily try to control my minds wanderings and just Be. Here. Now.