Monday, May 12, 2014

Worth It

Life marches on so relentlessly. Dave's memory fades as time passes.

The way to make his memory stay clearer would be to pull out his pictures regularly and talk about him constantly. Doing these things can be comforting, but for me, they've also been incredibly painful.

 I talk to him still. I think about our life and our love. I look at pictures sometimes. I'll get out his wallet or his watch and hold them. But, not often. That leads to a vortex of frustration and pain and ends with me finding it very hard to breathe.

Maybe this is an aspect of my grieving that I've yet to face. It's been how I've managed.

Either way, the result is that he fades faster. And that is not okay with me. Someone who was here for 37 years and was in my life for nearly half that should never fade away. How is that even possible?

I want to do more in his honor. I always have, it's just that I'm only just now beginning to have the strength and energy to do so.

For so long most of my energy has been bound up in just getting by myself. Now I have more to give.
I want to be more involved with his scholarship fund at the school where he used to teach. I want to plant a tree in his honor when I live somewhere with a yard again. I want to scatter his ashes somewhere fitting. I want to nurture my relationship with his parents in whatever ways possible.

All of this has to fit in with my new partner and our life together and how I honor his place in my heart, too. My life is complicated to say the least, but it is also full. Full of love and pain and joy and loss.

I'm finding ways to hold all of it with tenderness and acceptance. I'm finding ways to hold onto Dave's memory while wholly grasping onto a new life. At one point, that seemed impossible. Just the thought of it would've made me nauseous. It was something I couldn't even imagine.

Now I'm not only imagining it, I'm living it, and it's scary. I've finally come to the realization that life will probably always feel a little bit scary to me now. The veil of innocence was lifted when Dave died. The unthinkable happened and nothing became impossible. No more "that couldn't happen to me".

I've also realized that when life isn't scary, it's because I've shut myself up in a small coffin of safety. Just me and the cats alone at home is where fear can be most easily left behind. I will not live that life.

It's learning to live with the fear and not let it stunt me that will make the rest of my life worth it.


  1. Cassie I read this post and felt like I had wrote is everything I have felt/feel in the 4 years since Andrew died. I have felt so guilty about not being able to do more with things that are done in his memory but I just did not have the strength. Every bit of this posts resonates so much with all I have gone through including the new love.

    Thank you so much,


  2. Cassie and Maureen - Its heart warming to have other widows in the somewhat same boat. To have lost so much and then the path to new love and not forgetting our previous partners. May 8th was 4 years without him and I was finally able to have my heart conversation with him and let him know I haven't forgotten all that we were to each other and I've found it all again with someone new and he goes with me. I'm happier than I've been in years.

  3. I am in the exact same boat after 4 years - feeling like I have more to give, able to continue my relationship with his parents, and do more in his honor. I am so happy for all 3 of you, in that you have found someone new to give your heart to - my question is 'how did you meet them'? I thought it would come from friends of friends, but that doesn't seem to be happening. I feel that I am putting myself out there, it just seems that maybe my 'there' is the wrong spot??

    1. I met him on an online dating site. I'm introverted and detest going to bars and other places like them to meet people, so online dating was really a good option for me.