Wednesday, April 22, 2015

This day. Today.

Today is 2 years since my beloved husband Chuck died.

I've always used the word died since he...died.  Don't care at all for the other, gentler words.  Not at all.  I need the harsh words to remind me that he is indeed dead because there is a part of me, somewhere inside of me, a part I can't identify, that just doesn't believe that he's dead or that this isn't some huge cosmic joke being perpetrated upon me and someday he'll come walking in the door and we'll both be totally disbelieving and we'll hug and hug and hug some more and then we'll have wild and crazy sex and then, well, get back to our lives.

So, 2 years ago.  The grief is still very present but I imagine to most of the world I seem okay and ordinary on the outside.  On the inside the grief has lodged itself into the marrow of my bones and become my heartbeat and the rush of my blood but nobody can see that so yes, I look incredibly normal whatever that means to the outside world.

I took my normal appearing self to Sedona today to remember and honor him.  Our oldest son went with me, along with his almost 2 year old daughter, who was born 2 months after Chuck's death. Our destination was the Stupa at the Buddhist Peace Park.  Chuck practiced Buddhist philosophy and that was part of what sustained him through an ugly cancer.  Alexander, my son, scattered some of his dad's cremains around the base of the Stupa and we walked around it 3 times, as is the custom, each of us quietly praying a mantra.

Before going to the Stupa, we went to Bell Rock, the site of our last family hike and where we went last year to remember Chuck.  Bell Rock holds a strong place in all of our hearts and my grand-daughter danced with me on the first level.  She's also an FWG, though, of course, she has a long way to go before attaining the true rank and file.  At her age, she's a future warrior goddess, and proved it when she good-naturedly hiked the trail with us and did some climbing with our assistance.

I don't know that my heart will ever not be broken and I'm not concerned one way or another.  What I know is that there aren't many who are gifted with the love of a man the way I was, in my life.  How miraculous that on this huge earth he and I found each other and fell in love and stayed in love.  And how impossibly devastating it is to know that he is gone from my life.

And how beautiful it is that today, our son, and the grand-daughter Chuck never met, went with me to remember him and remember the love, and that this little girl danced with her Granna to celebrate this man who left such a legacy of love behind him.

7 comments:

  1. dear Alison,

    I am so sorry. I, too am coming to the two year mark the first part of May. that heartbreak of the loss of the Love of your life - sometimes there are no words...but you, Alexander, and your darling Granddaughter (so bittersweet she was born just 2 months after his death) going to those special places to scatter cremains, then dance together while remembering and honoring his love for you and your family ...well, I hope you each found even a small measure of comfort. and yes, it is amazing that the Universe aligned so perfectly for the two of you find each other. sending many warm and gentle hugs to you...

    with much love,

    Karen

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  2. Alison, I am so sorry that the love of your life is gone. The love of my life, Rich, will be gone four years on June 21. Like you, I look normal on the outside, all the while my heart is shattered in a million pieces and has been since the night he died of a heart attack beside me in his sleep. Rich was the love of my life and I know, like you, that I will never be whole again without him beside me. I mourn the loss of our spouses; all of us who loved so deeply and completely. Yes, I was blessed to have found the love of my life, but I wanted to have him in my life for years to come. Life feels so empty and I truly don't know how to go on without him beside me. I'm still searching for the answer to that question after four years of this hell. I cry silently to myself as life continues on. Karen

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  3. Alison, thinking of you while you are in Sedona--where I live and hike--and where my husband lost his cancer battle almost 2 years ago. Today would have been our 27th wedding anniversary. Different milestone dates that each of us marks with grief and tears. Still, your Chuck and my Cliff will live within us forever--that will never change. Cathy

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  4. Beautiful post!

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  5. " I look incredibly normal whatever that means to the outside world."

    I get this ALL THE TIME...looks can be so deceiving, little do they know that I am dying inside. I look at them perplexed, wondering how I can appear "normal" when I am so lost and down trodden all the time. Never seems to let up, 5 years of multiple losses, more to come.

    Lovely photo of you and your grand daughter, making new memories of love.

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  6. Dear Allison, I'm a few weeks from one year and don't know how I will live out this life without him... you put into words exactly what I'm feeling....

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  7. My dear friend Alison,
    You are the epitome of a true Warrior Goddess. Although I only know you from CW, I also know you through loss, and pain and the brief, yet wonderful memories we share with the loves of our lives. Keep on dancing the dance, for it gives way to hope.
    I love you, my sister.
    Tara

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