Maggie died in May 2009. I’ve been writing on Widow’s Voice since April 2011. I don’t write as often as the other bloggers because I guess I’m the quiet one. Yet I hope that my infrequency has been inversely reflected in the intensity of my posts; I’ve been open and honest and shared all that I’ve been working through. My path – the same path you are on – sadly leaves only one set of footprints in the sand. Yet, for some reason and maybe you feel the same, I’ve felt that my job is to keep drawing another set of footprints.
I’m now ready to stop drawing footprints in the sand. It’s time for me to walk alone. I’ve cleared the closet. I’ve gotten rid of the shoes. I’ve sold the house. I changed jobs. Our dog is no longer with me. I’ve moved. If there’s anything “us” that’s left, I don’t know what that might be. I guess my only last difficult part is saying goodbye to you. That's hard, too. For us, saying goodbye has a very, very, very different meaning than the rest of the world. We have all been very seriously affected by goodbyes. I, like you, take goodbyes very seriously.
Thus, it’s unlikely this will be my last post. Hell, Michele (the founder and editor of Widow’s Voice) is likely spitting her coffee all over the keyboard as she reads this post because I didn’t warn her (Sorry!) But it’s also unlikely that she didn’t know this was coming. She's been watching me working hard at climbing out of the dark pit of despair for years. You have all bared witness since April 2011 - more than three years. For three years I’ve been struggling and while I’ve not “won” anything, I’ve survived and believed. I’ve survived long enough to get my feet underneath me and my head back on straight. Finally, I feel like I'm just at the beginning of start of my new life.
There are three things you must know:
#1. No matter how hard it hurts, now matter how alone you feel, no matter how difficult it is to breathe, you can do this. You can survive. You can do this.
#2. You are not alone. You are not alone. You are not alone. (Yes, I typed that three times because damn it, no matter what anyone tells you or what you think when the lights are out late at night or when you are sitting on the train looking around or when you are at your best friend’s wedding, you are not alone. We are everywhere and we are with you.)
#3. You will never be “over it” but you will live and love again. You will be happy again.
Thanks Chris for sharing your journey. I will miss you. I am not alone. I have everyone here with me. We all cheer each other on.
ReplyDeleteThanks for giving me hope.
Best wishes for all of your new adventures.
You are not alone.
Maria O.
Thank you, Chris. I needed to hear those three things today. Wherever you go, you are not alone either. Your words have inspired and given me hope these past months. I wish you all good things for your journey.
ReplyDeleteKim M.
ReplyDeleteThanks for baring your soul to us for these last few years! We’ll miss your male point of view for sure but I hope you’ll chime in regularly!
Best of luck in your future endeavors!
Will miss you, Chris. Especially like the part about possibly loving again. I find that hard to believe ... for me... but when you say it... I could maybe believe it. :)
ReplyDeleteChris, I will miss your posts - I lost my husband the same month and year as you did, so I watched your journey with much interest. Good luck to you..
ReplyDeleteCongratulations Chris!
ReplyDeleteI lost my wife in Jan of 2011 and have gone through many of the same trials and tribulations... and thank-you your words have helped many times more than you could imagine.
I am finding though that saying good bye to the car and the dog ( Shauna's dog was killed just 3 days ago by another dog) and soon the house have all in their own way helped me to move on. (I know I hate the phrase 'move on' too, maybe a better term is to carry on.)
I think your move is a positive one, though you will be missed, you have made a great (immeasurable) contribution but life demands us to grow and to continue living rather than dwelling on a past we cannot change.
Very best of luck to you!
I believe in time -- when the time is right, to move on and try that new life that does exists. I lost my wife in Dec 2012, and have followed your posts with valuable information that has helped me.
ReplyDeleteThanks Chris, and God Bless in all the days ahead..
Jan 2010 for me. Your posts and Janine's have been like those small, real, touchstones one finds on the beach (or where ever). Stones picked up whose simple softness soothes. Not that your posts have ever been "simple" but the continuity allowed those of us following touchstones to hold, to allow a modicum of familiarity. All our paths are different, yet all have pieces that too familiarly relate. Of course I wish you all well. And of course I wish you come back from time to time and let us hear.....
ReplyDeleteFeb 2010...been following your words also. I'm right behind you in getting rid of the shoes and cleaning out the closets and soon selling the house. If others can do it so can I. I thank you, Chris, for leading the way, and telling it like it is. It's not something I ever had an inkling of, and now I am immersed in it in every aspect of my life, every second of every day. It helps to know I am not alone, and maybe someday there will be more joy than sorrow in my days. Happy trails to you too.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing, Chris. Your words brought tears to my eyes. I also lost my husband in 2009, August. Not everyone can express their feelings so colorfully as you do. It is a gift. Thank you again, you will be missed.
ReplyDeleteThank you Chris.
ReplyDeleteI wont say good bye, I'll say be well. Live. Live. Live.
We all have something unique to share - hopefully our suffering has increased our compassion for others.
Somehow I believe we all know the right time, if we listen.
May you find moments of joy.
Thank you. Best wishes. And may much happiness visit you again. . . .
ReplyDeleteThanks for the 3 points....it gives me hope that I will feel whole again someday....
ReplyDeleteChris, I pray for the very best for you.
Keep in touch.
I am sad to read this, you have brought such a unique perspective to this blog. But I am also deeply happy for you, that this is another step in your healing process. Thank you for sharing your story, your process, and the beauty of Maggie, with us.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your journey, albeit a difficult task. Best of luck to you! I'll pose a question to you or my fellow travelers' on this journey. Lost my husband of 28 years four years ago. I am fifty six years old. Still have his clothing in the closet and dresser drawers, and all of his sports gear in the garage. Clearly, I feel I am overdue to take care of this, but always get stuck. I lose my motivation. I am busy with career, have friends I can see when I want to, but still don't care if I go out or not. Mostly not. Bottom line..am I too stuck? I'm in a limbo state, really. Not acute grief anymore, but not moving. Thoughts are appreciated.
ReplyDeleteAnon,
DeleteYou don't sound "stuck" to me. And I don't think you're "overdue" to take care of anything. When the time comes for you to do those things, you'll know it. I think a loss of motivation is entirely different than being stuck.
It sounds like you're doing pretty dang well.
:)
Anon, I too have used that term "stuck", I'm 3.5 yrs out, have accepted that this is my life, and yet am not motivated to really jump back into it. I just don't care anymore. I have purged some of his things, (mostly things he never wore anyway) but some I just cannot remove, like the garage full of tools, I just want those reminders around to see and feel when I need them. I used to think it odd that I am hanging onto grief for so long, but then others keep saying there is no timeline, don't force yourself to do or feel something just because others did it at 2 yrs or 4 yrs. So even tho you feel in limbo, I personally think you have made progress just by the fact that you are aware of that limbo state. So be kind to yourself, you are where you are. Maybe you could have someone help you go through his closet for an hour here or there, but only do it when you are ready. Sorry to ramble, hope this helps.
ReplyDeleteDear Chris, I will miss your posts. You have been an inspiration, a leader, a mentor, and a soldier of strength willing to be brutally honest whenever necessary.
ReplyDeleteBest of luck to you and your final reminders, I will carry them in my heart and pull them out when my legs feel too weak to trudge forward! Thanks soooooooo much!
Chris,
ReplyDeleteWishing you all the very best in your continued journey and sending you a big thank you for all of your insightful posts. Please know how helpful and very comforting they have been--to know that I truly am not alone has done much to help in healing my own wounds. Thank you, thank you for such a wonderful gift! I hope you continue to come back from time to time to let everyone know how you are doing.
Tonight I used the words survive to describe my approach to a familiar but 'new now' experience. It is late night and I'm up...crying, thinking, just up. It's been almost 9 months. Its a weird place, it feels like a long time and just yesterday. The fog has lifted, but I now realize how awkward and uncomfortable death is for many. Thank God I am not alone, thank God for all of you sharing your reality. You nailed it for me tonight, just when I needed a little encouragement. Grateful.
ReplyDeleteThank you to Jeanine and Anon for your response. And anon...you are not rambling. Both helpful replies and I thank you. To anon above at 9 months...I must say that I LOVE your term "new now." I'm adopting it, because I hate "new normal." Who wants a new normal when your former normal was wonderful? But "new now" takes a much different, more positive tone. I am totally with you on feeling like "a long time and just yesterday." I'm at four years and I still have that same feeling. I think that one is universal, really. I can't explain how it works, I call it time traveling, but it is so accurate. Please know that 9 months is very much still a very raw stage. I noticed tiny increments of healing every few months. But I was probably at the two year mark before I could actually start to think again. So just take care of yourself and let time help heal your brain, body and soul. Best to you. It does get better.
DeleteChris,it is quite selfish of me.but I will miss you. A male perspective on things is most welcome. I had commented to a female neighbor friend how I had always gotten my late husband the proper easy read fixit manual when things needed repaired. She commented that I should get rid of all my husband's tools and manuals at our neighborhood garage sale. I was dumbfounded. Who does she think makes all the home repairs since Tom passed? Tom passed on his confidence.skill and wrenching abilities to me. I hope that when your dear wife departed noone suggested that you throw out your pots,pans and cook books . Please drop us a line now and then. Wishing you all the best T's Rose.
ReplyDeleteChris, I just want to add to the chorus my thanks and the fact that I will miss your postings. Your writing always struck a chord with me.
ReplyDeleteGood luck with your new adventures - I'm sure they'll be wonderful. all the best.
thanks Chris, even though after 4 years it's gotten easier to put one foot in front of the other and find the occasional bright spot of pure joy, it does still hurt to be a third wheel, outside of the family&children part of society, missing my mate during holidays, vacations, meals, chores.
ReplyDeleteThanks for reminding me that WV will be there when times get tough. I don't visit or post as much as I used to, which was never "frequently" but I'm going to make some art that repeats your above mantras, and hang it where I can see it often.
Best of everything to you, lots of WV love will be traveling alongside you.
SusanB