Friday, August 22, 2014

Time Piece

I never forget that I'm a widow. I never forget that my husband is dead forever. I never forget my reality.
But ...

There are times. Moments. Feelings.
There is being with my family, staying at my parent's house, like this weekend, and getting lost inside of something that is beyond my widowhood - something that sees far past my life without my husband.

There is eating "lazy lobster" and steaks on the grill and mom's famous Red Cake, and having my brother prepare my lobster for me with the drawn butter the way I like, and taking away all the green guts and gross parts, so I don't have to look at it.

There is doing an Ice Bucket Challenge Video with my 5 year old nephew, who is insanely excited to be able to dump ice-cold water on Auntie Kelley's head, for all the world to see. There is sitting around the dining room table with an my parents and an old family friend, who is now elderly and alone and depressed, and sincerely trying to talk with her and maybe give her an ounce or two of hope.

There is making another 5 year old boy, the grandson of another family friend, laugh so hard that he makes his grandmother call us from the car 25 minutes after they have left, so he can talk to me on speaker phone and have me "say more funny things."

There is even the strange feeling of having an entire conversation with family friends, about how I raised $20,000 in a crowd-fund-sharing campaign, so that I can self-publish and promote and market my book about the death of my husband - and yet be able to talk about it in a way where I don't even feel like I'm talking about the death of my husband.

I never forget that my husband will be dead forever. It sits inside of my every inhale, releasing it's truth with each laboring breath. But sometimes, there is life. And sometimes, lately more often than not, life makes it's way inside of the inhale - pulling and tugging and begging for some attention. All of the people and all of the friends and all of the wondrous, ordinary, entertaining, beautiful pieces of time - ban together to smash my sadness and my grief and my loss on the ground and turn it into an irrelevant speck, even if it's only temporary. It is like a mini-vacation from my grief, sort of. Sometimes it only lasts a few minutes, or a few hours, or a day. But those few minutes or hours are enough time for me to be able to see into a future which will hold more of these vacations, more often. It is a weird feeling, and one that is impossible to adequately describe. The entire time that I am enjoying myself at whatever I am doing, I am also very aware that I am a widow and that my husband is dead. But it isn't what I'm thinking about. It isn't where the focus is. It isn't where the radar goes. And a year or two ago, I could have never said that. Back then, there were never these lapses in time where the widow thing went to the back of my brain or heart. It just didn't happen. And now it does. And really, that makes my tomorrows seem just a tiny bit less frightening.

12 comments:

  1. Kelley, I SO get this, and I, too, find hope in it. My life is no longer ruled only by my grief. I am no longer defined only by my widowhood. But there are still times, some short, some long, some really intense, some less so, where it is front and center. It is such a relief that it is no longer the norm, and that I cAn feel those feelings, honor them, and know that they will pass (ok, sometimes it still feels like they are back for ever). Thanks, as always, for a great post. When I went to click on today's link, I thought "oh good, it's Friday so it's Kelley."

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    1. Awww that last sentence is soooo nice. I hope I didnt disappoint lol. Last night was one of those nights where I had NO IDEA what to write about.

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  2. Yes...another sort of momentary lapse we can be grateful for. I get this too. Thank you for writing this.

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  3. Thank you Kelley, for this post and every post you write every Friday. It's been just over two years since my husband suddenly passed away and I'm still dealing with past financial items and paperwork. A few days ago I was talking to my co-worker and friend, who lost her 29 year old son last years from injuries sustained in a previous car wreck, and I referred to Stewart as my "dead husband". She asked me to please not call him that and I wanted to say I can't sugarcoat it - anyway I say it, he is still dead. But I told her I would not call him that. And I've just started seeing glimmers of hope for my future. Not that it will be anything like we've planned together. I've been so lucky to have so many of my family members, our friends, church members, neighbors, and sometimes strangers help, and support, and encourage me and our 2 daughters (now ages 21 & 17). But nothing but difficulty and demands from my Krazy Sister-In-Law and The Outlaws. And I'll keep on calling them that. Hope you have a nice weekend. Leslie In Little Rock

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  4. I think if calling him your dead husband is what makes YOU most comfortable, then keep calling him that and dont apoligize to anyone. I call Don my dead husband all the time, because that is what he is, and I HATE the term "passed on", or "passed away". For ME, that just doesnt work, it all sounds way too nice and lovely, and his death was neither of those things to me. I also have a pretty dark sense of humor, as did my husband, so calling him my dead husband makes me laugh and its what he would probably want to be called lol. Thanks for your comment xoxoxo

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  5. It has been about a year and a half since I met you at Camp Widow in Myrtle Beach and started reading your blog and facebook posts and I can't believe how far you have come! We all know we never stop missing (painfully so) the loss of our person but it becomes easier to deal with. I see this in you and I see it in myself. I am proud to have been able to witness this transformation in you and some other friends I met at the same time. Enjoy your special weekend!

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    1. Kathie, its so good to know that someone else notices these things - the tiny little steps of progress and change that feel like nothing when you are going through them. Thanks for telling me that Kathie. Im proud of you too!

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  6. You lost your husband, I lost my son. But I feel and understand exactly what you are saying. At first I felt guilty for those moments, hours, days, but now (after 4 years) I see them as gifts to be enjoyed, because you never know when the pain will come roaring back.

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  7. Thank you for this post. I also appreciated your post entitled “Different” on your RIP website. It provides hope and is very heartening for those of us trudging behind you on this miserable journey.

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  8. I so agree with the beginning of your blog. You don't forget that you are a widow or that your husband is gone. I still miss mine every day, but in a different way than when he first passed away. It has been 14 months since his last breath and life still goes on. I remember more of the laughter and fun we had and try to be positive. Every once and awhile though, the tears show up and sometimes I have no idea why...I'm sure it is just part of the grieving process.

    Keep writing. I really enjoy reading your blog.

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  9. Hello, today I went to a wedding. Family..when I first got invitation 6 wk ago , I saw date.... I thought hmmm am I strong enuf now to do this ???? After all this was date that changed my life forever..I thought when they kiss and say I do til death do us part am I gonna loose it???? Or when they do their dance??? When the song comes on by Eric Clapton wonderful tonight", am I gonna really loose it?? That was our slow dance song.. OURS... He could get lucky after that, lol...but I held up good, then the groom my cousin dances w his mom, oh boy here's my test, my son is sitting behind me..oh God don't let me cry.. Tears filled but fought em back.. I made it!!!! 6 yrs today he's goneeeee....I'm gonna make it...

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