It's a legitimate question and something I've pondered over the last 9 months. He and I spoke frankly about the possibility and I was able to reassure him that it isn't the case.
If only.
For me, running away from this grief would consist of renting an apartment somewhere and staying put. Just from the short times that I've stayed with family as I've traveled this Odyssey of Love, I know that what would easily happen if I rented a place is that I'd zone out into a routine and it would be no time at all before I'd sleep later and later, covers over my head. If I didn't actually end up under the bed. Hiding indeed.
Living on the road as I am, I'm very much driving headlong into my grief. Over the 4 years that Chuck and I adventured together, living full-time on the road, though in a different way than I'm doing, we covered all the lower 48 states, driving the back roads, visiting monuments, National Parks, landmarks-you name it. I don't even remember all the roads we drove or places we stopped; Chuck was the rememberer for us. Now that I'm the pilot I never know when I'll suddenly remember oh we were here! and the deluge of emotions hit me. It can be as simple as a roadside picnic table or as big as one of the places he asked me to revisit to scatter his cremains. And it can be as simple as fueling the car; he was always the one to do that. It can be me driving; he did all the driving. In huge and small ways I'm reminded on a minute by minute basis that he is gone and I'm still here and without him and every instance sends shards of glass through my heart.
No, there's no hiding from this grief. Not that I'd want to; I've always been the sort of person to face things straight on, no matter what. Chuck knew that and I believe that's why he set me on this road. Furthermore, I believe that he intentionally mentioned only 4 places to revisit. Crazy Horse in South Dakota was the last place. From that point to this, and further as I continue on, his intent was for me to keep my heart open, not only so that I'll know where else I need to scatter his cremains, but, in so doing, find my new life without him. There is now a twofold purpose to my travels.
Grief. Sadness. Love. Magic. Heart open. And somewhere, somewhere, a new life for me. Whether I want it or not matters not. I'm still alive. Left behind but still alive and Chuck set me on this course to help me figure it out.
I'm running alright. Running towards though, not from. Running towards, carrying his love for me, with me.
In February it will be three years since my new "life" began, but the running didn't begin until two years ago June when I could finally retire from teaching - how could I continue without him teaching in the other wing of our building? - when I would be free for more than just two months to get away from everything that used to be so precious. I began traveling three interstates in three neighboring states to visit parents and children, and I went as often as possible. Yes, you need to come home occasionally to pick up mail, pay bills, and generally check on things, but then I was free to "run" again. I've asked my grief counselor if my method of coping was healthy, and a year ago she said it was. Wonder what she would say now? All I know is that when I'm gone from this empty home and surrounded by family I feel part of something and loved and not so very sad and alone. But there are times I ask myself if I'll ever be able to build a new life until I"m willing to stay in one place for awhile. So many many times I've wished for a guidebook to help me get through this sad life I've found myself in. Sadly, there don't seem to be any.
ReplyDeleteMarianne
Marianne,
DeleteIf any of us ever came up with a guidebook for this, we'd make a million. It really is a matter of doing what feels right at any given moment and keeping moving. And I wonder-aren't you building that life for yourself as you engage with those you love? And isn't it so very important for each of us to feel a part of something and not alone? I'd say you're doing what you need to do to build, same as I am. There's nothing easy about it. Hang in there with it all, and I'll do the same~alison
Alison, I also think that you are running through your grief, not away from it. I can say this because I am doing the running away thing in my life. I can't go to any places we went together, even places like our regular grocery store, shops or restaurants. And I am selling our house and trying to move away from this area. When I think of traveling, I plan to go only to places that we never went together or we didn't have any plans to go together. That's running away and I know it. I hope to be able to revisit 'our places' some day, but it won't be any time soon. So your travels seem extremely brave to me. Not at all running away. Keep going!
ReplyDeleteOne of the things I remember most that Chuck said often is, just suit up and show up. And I'm doing that every day and it means so much to have such support as I find here. I hope you get your hope and can get back to those places you shared with your husband someday~alison
Deletedear Alison,
ReplyDeleteI read your blog from beginning to end, and I do not think that you are in any way running away from your grief. I read each entry both before Chuck;s death, and those of the many days and months after he died. I envision you running through your grief; after all you and Chuck were together on the road for a long time, and just as some of us grieve in our homes and other close surroundings, your trailer and car and much of was familiar is what triggers and assaults you with the reality of the absence of him where you both were, where you and he lived out a big chunk of intimate time together. I would think it would be the opposite case if you had decided never to go back on the road, to avoid all the places, all the experiences, the sounds, the tastes, the smells, the views, the terrain, the things that became such moving and everlasting imprints that etched themselves so indelibly upon your heart, your mind, your soul, you entire being, you and your Chuck together. your Chuck was so wise in his love for you - I marvel at his intuitiveness that sent you back on the road, back onto an experience that he hoped would help you find yourself, find your after life, while carrying out his wishes for where he wanted his remains scattered. his request was so noble, and you are fulfilling it with so much love, love that hurts so bad I can't even imagine. I hold you up into the brightest light of hope that you will find what Chuck wanted for you, that it will be what you want for you, keeping your heart open just as you have promised.
much love,
Karen XOXO
Karen,
DeleteI'm touched beyond measure that you took so much time to read my blog. And yes, yes, you absolutely get it, about how this is and what it is. Thank you~alison
Hello, you r right there's no getting away from the grief.. U take it with you..it's the hand we were dealt.. I wish u safe journey..take it all in.. Gods speed...
ReplyDeleteAnd safe journeys for you also, as you navigate your way through this~alison
DeleteI was recently introduced to this blog and I find it so helpful. Your posts are especially meaningful because you're doing what my husband and I planned to do, beginning last summer after I retired. However, this won't happen now because he died 5 months ago. I think what you're doing is wonderful. I have no idea what my life will become as I work my way through the intensity of grief, but I draw strength from your posts.
ReplyDeleteSharon