I don't mean to go all dramatic on you, but I'm curious. Sometimes I study pictures of me before. Not in the same critical way I used to; oh, look at my bad hair day, oh, I need to lose a few pounds, is that a pimple? Stupid stuff now.
No, now I study pictures of me over the past 24 years with Chuck and marvel at the joy in my eyes, the happiness, the sparkle. I can feel the love between us in those pictures. A friend of mine suggested that if I have any doubts about who he was, or who we were together (brought on by conversations during his time in hospice and the months afterwards and, yes, how seriously stupid of me to give any energy to such a thing), I've only to look at the hundreds of pictures that chronicle our years together. There is love and connection and each of us, individually and together, look joyful. Always.
And then I study the few pictures taken of me since his death almost a year ago and I wonder who is that woman? Where is the joie de vie? Where is the sparkle in her eyes? What happened to the soul light that used to fairly burst from her?
I mourn the loss of that woman. The fact is, she's gone and I don't know who I am now. Yes, under other circumstances I could be excited and think wow, I can be whoever I want to be now! I can create whatever life I want!
Yeah, not so much. I'm not excited about what I can be or who I'll become. I'm not even curious. This new life thrust itself upon me and I want to refuse it but that isn't an option. I loved my life with him. I was a strong, independent woman passionately in love with a strong, handsome, loving, man. I knew how to do anything I needed to do but there was much I didn't have to do because he happily took tasks on as his part of us. I wasn't missing anything in my life, nor feeling as if there was something more for me in life.
And now.
This in-between time when who I was is forever gone and the who that I'll be is not yet determined.
Grief singes and burns and changes us in ways both seen and unseen. Loneliness and missing-ness and confusion and shock and dislocation and disorientation rule the day in this transition time to what will be.
I hate transitions.
Alison, your post expresses how I feel as I approach the third anniversary of my husband's death. The other half of me, half my heart and soul, died in June 2011. I have photos and a few videos including our wedding video taken beside the ocean that I look at when I feel that I can bear it. The connection that our love created, the smiles, the all encompassing love in our eyes, and the loving banter back and forth are there. Our love was and is forever. I am still in love with my husband; I am still his wife in life and in death. We were together as a couple from the night we met until the night he died beside me. My husband was the love of my life, my soul mate, my hero, my protector. I realize that no amount of time nor anyone I could ever meet will change that. We were destined to be together for eternity. The loss of my husband has changed me forever.
ReplyDeleteIndeed, how can you, how can any of us who have gone through this, not be changed forever? Its such a lonely feeling to know that I'm alone in the world. Not literally, of course, because I have beautiful, adult kids, I have friends who mean so much to me. But that doesn't take the place of the man who cherished me and would have given his life for me. Yes, I too am forever changed~
DeleteI look back at pictures before my oldest son died and think "that was another lifetime ago". You are right, the person you were dies. I *hate* the pictures of myself (and my youngest son & husband) that first 18 months or so. Someone told my husband that his smile didn't reach his eyes anymore. And we all look MISERABLE. Thankfully, the smile does again reach the eyes. It will never be the same, but that doesn't mean it can't be good.
ReplyDeleteI so agree with your post. In the three years since Nigel died I feel like my life is on mute. I go to work and do the day to day thing but without him I can't feel any joy . He was my laughter, my warmth and my life. The pain is too deep . Living in this muffled world is rubbish
ReplyDeleteMuted. Looking in from a bubble. Distanced. All those words fit. And all those words are not who I was. And I'm not sure how to change it to something else. It is, as you say, absolute rubbish~
DeleteMy sister in law said when she saw a photo of me and John. ..you used to look so happy, Linda....
ReplyDeleteYeah, I said ...There are no words...2 years this coming May 8th.....
Linda, how it all changes! How WE change. And how we can no longer recognize ourselves.
DeleteMay we each be blessed as we muck our way through this~
I can't. I just...can't. I have 2 videos I made where I know we are laughing and happy, and they are the ONLY things I have with his voice on them...but I can't watch them. I can't look at them. I have looked a couple times at our wedding photos but it is too hard. Too empty. I can look at his photo all day long, but pictures of us, or of me. I can't. I just can't.
ReplyDeleteYes, this transition truly does suck. Been on it for 4 years, not liking the who I am now, hoping time will continue to morph me into someone I at least can live with. Yes, we all used to look so happy. I've been sorting through 35 years of photos all winter, finally had to quit and just box them up. Lots of good memories that brought way too many tears. I'm dreading my daughters wedding photos this summer, all I can think of is he should be here.
ReplyDeleteCathy,
DeleteIts a catch 22, isn't it? Look at pictures, don't look at pictures. Is your daughter doing something to bring her dad into the service? Our daughter put a single rose in the seat where her grandmom would have been sitting-it was simple and so powerful~
Allison you express the thoughts and feelings I wrestle with daily. I so miss my life with my other half, my heart my rock. You expressed it so well "This in between time when who I was is gone forever (a contented wife with my Rock by my side) and the who that I'll be (??not sure, but trying to be interested) is not yet determined. I too hate transitions. By the way I hope I see you on the road with your "FWG" sign..Would love to stop and give you a hug.
ReplyDeleteSJK
SJK,
DeleteI hope you do find me on the road and the hug will be enthusiastically returned! This week I'm ordering a BIG FWG logo to replace the old T@b logo on the front of my trailer. You'll see me coming from afar~
all I do is look at photos, photos where I can just stare into his eyes, and wait for him to give me our next move.....they are not saying anything to me...except he wants me to LIVE and Im not doing that sitting staring at my past...... but David is Not here with me in my present... that is the hardest thing how do I live in the now, when my LOVE, My Heart, is only in my past, when Part of me died in the past too. I have to make a new me, and trust that those beautiful eyes are watching over me smiling. it is HARD. the photos just keep calling me because that is what I do have
ReplyDeleteJoann, you expressed perfectly where I am at almost three years without the love of my life. I kiss his picture every night and say "I Love You, good night sweetheart," and I kiss his picture every morning when I wake up. His vivid blue eyes smile back at me and I feel the love that is still there between us as memories of his making loving to me flood my soul. I watch our wedding video in Carmel above the blue Pacific and see and hear the eternal love that was there and is still there between us; a bond forever.
ReplyDeleteI do understand how you feel. This past Saturday marked the 3rd year of the passing of my wife. I remember walking around just feeling numb for several months, not really seeing the world around me. I was lucky to have a very supportive friend who made it his mission to keep me moving, keep me engaged. I finally woke up and realized that, yes, she's gone. Yes, it's ok to grieve and to miss them each and every day but, ultimately, I'm still here and I still have many years ahead of me. I owe it to her to get busy living again. And you know what? I learned how to have fun and put myself out there again, even though I was scared to death. I had to create a new life, step by aching step. There's still a hole in my life she occupied but I also learned that love is an infinite well you can pull from. I found that once I opened my heart again, it was possible to find love again. I am truly blessed to have found a new partner in life. It was unexpected and, yes, I felt guilty at first. Like I was cheating on her memory. But I have to stop thinking like that. I know if I were going to die, I would have wanted the same for her. Life does go on. You have to make a choice to move forward and live. Everyone copes at a different pace. I truly hope you can move forward one day, knowing you'll always have him close in your heart.
ReplyDeleteAnonymous, I am very happy for you in that you were able to move on and find love again. It will soon be three years since my husband died unexpectedly of a heart attack. In talking to men and women who have lost a beloved spouse, I have found that men and women grieve differently and at a different pace. Women are far more emotional than men and, for the most part, grieve far longer.
ReplyDeleteThat's the key...eventually we all will make the choice...to live life....While honoring our spouses/partners who were given the end of their life...
ReplyDeleteWe each have to figure out when we are strong enough to make that choice....and we are each different.
For me...my motivating force is that I know my husband would want me to live my life....because life is short.....to live life is to honor and love him since he was not given the chance to live the extra years I have been given.....He is kicking me in the rear...saying..."love me...honor me...live life for me...you have been given the wonderful gift of life. ..don't waste it..I will see you soon enough"
So now after almost 2 years. ..I am going to pick myself up...and refocus on how I am going to do what John is telling me to do.
And we will each get there in our own way and time. ..no one else can tell us when or how.
Because I do not have pictures from my past, I often feel like a boat that is untethered from its mooring. Things hurt enormously but with only foggy memories to guide me, grief is made much harder. Perhaps you could view photos as channel markers on your journey of life. �� -Snowygirl
ReplyDeleteThe pictures do indeed serve as channel markers, and I love the term, Snowygirl. I am compelled to study them in an effort to remind myself that he did exist, that he and I existed together, and yet they also remind me of the time that is irrevocably gone.
ReplyDeleteSigh...