Thursday, May 9, 2013

When two worlds collide


So much of my life has changed since Jeremy died.

I live in a different house, a different city.
I drive different vehicles.
I shop at new stores that weren't around just three years ago.
I have super long hair, which Jeremy has never really seen.
I have some new, amazing friends.
I've lost some friends. Heck, I've been lifted out of some of my own support groups.
I have new family.
I got re-married.
I am a different parent than I used to be.
I've had new experiences that have changed me.

For crying out loud, I have more of Jeremy's children now than I did when he was here!

It's safe to say that things look very different. But what I find so frustrating and yet so odd is how much I hate that he is missing the very things that are only in place because of his death. Experiences that I was only able to have because Jeremy died, I ache for him to see it, to talk to him about it, to celebrate/laugh/cry with him about it. Only, my two worlds will never collide. The irony is not lost on me.

Somewhere, in a land created of 'what-ifs', there's a place where I get to talk to Jeremy about Steve, where I get to see his reaction to a new song that came out, where he smiles and celebrates the milestones in my life I only get to have in light of losing everything. The opportunities that were created out of his loss are the very things I want him to witness. I would never have been able to move to this home if Jer were still alive. And yet, it feels like he's missing here. I would never be able to claim Zada and Reagan as my beautiful daughters if he were alive, but I want so badly for them to know each other, for him to love them like I do.

I try not to venture into the land of 'what-ifs' very often, cause it generally just leaves me exhausted and unsatisfied. But every once in awhile....

....I would just love to see my two worlds collide.


  1. My vocabulary is not vivid enough to tell you how much this is me too! Praises to God in the highest for you being able to put my feelings into words! WOW, JUST WOW!

  2. Agreed! Now that my grief is not as thick, I can finally see some of the changes in my life. Not that I view them as "positive" because they have occurred bc my Marty is not here, but I am able to see them as "beauty from the ashes". I don't have many and they are not as big as yours; but they are, nonetheless. The biggest is how I have changed. He knew most of this "new me" but nobody else did because I never let her out, I never revealed my true self to the world for fear of rejection, being too much, or really I was not able to take the risk and show to others "This is who I am". My loss has propelled my authenticity to new levels. My honesty about my feelings second to none. And my confidence at an all time high so much of the time. Yes, I was real to him, but only him and a lot of the real me, my kids also saw. But now they see me up close and personal. All of me. Even the parts that others probably think are "too much." Oh well. I wish he could know how I've grown and how I've allowed others to see the real me. And how my relationships with his brothers are so so sweet as they rise up in his absence. And our new grand-daughter who is two months old now that he won't know. And our future son-in-law that he will never know. And the apartment in LA that our son has rented. All three of these things dreams come true for them! Though they are not the result of our loss, they are signs of health and living his legacy of continuing to pursue life in the full. To be all in. To move beyond our fears. And as he would say "To Finish the Deal." Though I would never have chosen my new life by any means, the pain is not as raw lately and for that I am grateful.

  3. What a life affirming and hopeful post! I haven't been through losing a spouse, so I can't say I've been in your shoes, but I have lost a dear brother, watched my sister-in-law lose her husband, the kids lose their dad, and my parents lose a child from up close and personal. I recognize every thing you speak of in this post....its that place of acceptance...where we've again embraced life and found happiness and peace but ever miss and love and want to share all the aspects of life with the departed. I personally take comfort in my belief that not only are they present in spirit, but that they've actually helped us get where we are in our healing. I'd like to think Jeremy had a hand in bringing you and Steve together. I certainly believe my brother had a hand in my sister in law's wonderful new husband and my resulting new "niece"! :) In all but the physical presence, I feel now, after a long road of grief, that my brother never left us for a minute, that he's blissfully happy, and he's cheering us on with every step we take. Thanks for a great post about what the other side of grief, that is acceptance, looks and feels like.

  4. I really love your posts! They are so honest! Thank you.

  5. Oh, but they do collide, dear Vee, they do meet and melt: in you, through you! There is no separation there.

    I know that you don't feel it's enough. But still... You are whole, your life is whole, even if it feels like it's been torn apart.

    There are certain things in life that we become aware of in the most difficult of times. And yet, it is the very essnece of life on Earth that nothing stays the same, the life transforms itself through death all the time. We try to live like it's not happening but it is. What we can do is what you do: go with the changes the best we can, love our past and love our present the best we can, be present, express who we are.

    Thank you for your beautiful expression!