I Refuse

Lately I have been trying not to plan what to write here… instead waiting until the moment I sit down to the keyboard to see what happens. I feel like keeping my head out of it allows my heart to connect to what needs to be said most. So today I'm feeling compelled to share this poem I wrote not long ago. It is the way I have felt about my fiancé, our love, and his death since the very beginning… and how I continue to feel about it all. I gather it's how many of us feel. I hope it grabs you, grounds you, ignites you, comforts you - whatever it is that you need to receive today - I hope it gives you a small piece of that, my dear brave friends.

I REFUSE

The other day

driving home from work

I realized that you did not die at all.

That when your heart stopped beating

and your veins ceased to drink

and your eyes closed upon themselves

you did not die.

You did not die because I refused.

I refused to lay down and

accept that you no longer exist.

I refused to believe that our love

could ever die.

And I will refuse it

until my own heart stops beating

and my veins cease to drink

and my eyes close upon themselves.

-

For all my days ahead

I will stand up tall

and I will fight

the very idea of you being “lost”.

I will question

everything that attempts to disprove

that you and I still exist together.

I will build

a new way of being with you.

Because WE do NOT die.

It is not in the nature of us

to simply cease to exist from each other.

You cannot be removed from me

any easier than

the stars can be removed from the universe

by a human hand.

I refuse your death.

-

Instead

I believe

I know

That we are as if

living in two countries

worlds apart

and we speak two different languages now.

Our new way of being

will be the most difficult challenge

we will ever face.

It will require quietness

and surrender

and acceptance

and an unfaltering belief

in what we cannot see.

It will require the fire of faith

and the courage

to sit with the pain

and give it love.

It will require parts of us

we don’t even know exist yet.

But they do.

-

And in this way

we will begin again

with a new language of love.

One that transcends

all barriers

all fears

all fires.

For we will begin again

with divine love.

What if this is as good as it gets?

Inner Peace (Photo credit: d0.0b)

Well meaning people tell me to find my "inner peace" as a way of dealing with my current anger over the unfairness of losing Greg.

Apparently I should just let things "be" and let the angst go and I will feel better.

Inherently, I know they are right ....

...but I am terrified.....

What if this is as good as it gets?

What happens when my children grow up and move out?
What happens when I am left on my own?
What happens when I know that I am not enough?


When I lost my husband, I lost my sense of self.
I lost who I am.
....who I was.

I lost a lot of other things too ....

I lost my religion.
I lost my faith.
I lost my ability to remember things.
I lost my confidence.
I lost my sense of worth.
I lost my femininity.
I lost my sense of fun.
I lost feeling unconditionally loved.

I lost knowing that I was somebody's somebody.

But .....
I have found some of those things again ... not many of them ... but some of them.

....and I have to hope that I will continue to find pieces of my old self and add in pieces of my new self
until I am me again.

Maybe then I can find my "inner peace" and know that if this is as good as it gets, that it will be OK.

A Look Back

 I was looking through some old posts today and this one caught my attention.  I wrote it on December 18, 2008.  One year after Jim died.
I wrote about that year, and how far I/we came in those 365 days.
I thought I had come a long way.
I had no clue.
None.

I still had so much further to go.
But still .... after reading it today .... that's what I thought:  But still ....
It was .... a year.
It was a lifetime .... in 12 months.

Which must mean that I have now gone through almost 4 lifetimes.
At least.

And you know what?
The lifetimes have gotten better.
And richer.
With every passing year.

And I guess that's what I want you to know.
In sharing this.
My life, and all of its lifetimes, has gone from a dark year of just trying to breathe, just existing, just trying to make it from one day to the next and everything that year held ....
to becoming years with more richness and texture ....
and living.
And joy.

So keep breathing.
Keep existing.
One day you'll look behind you .... and be surprised at much life you are living.
:)


Looking Back ....

Well, Honey ...... I'm not sure where to start.

It's been a ride, that's for sure.  And not a ride I chose to get on, or wanted to stay on, but I seem to be strapped in for life.

I started to just write about the year and post pictures from events, but there were way too many to post ..... so many that this entry would've taken several weeks.

     I guess I'll start at the beginning, which ironically, is an ending.

A year ago today.  Around 2:00 a.m., to be more exact.  You were there ...... and then you weren't.

I like to picture you as you are in the above picture .....  up in Heaven, just looking out at everything and taking it all in.  And waiting for me, of course.

Since you left you obviously missed the most amazing memorial service I've ever seen.  I was in awe.  You would have been embarrassed.  You never knew how very well thought of and loved that you were.  I wish you had.  I hope that you do now.

Anyway, you left and then the kids and I left.   We ran away from home, from Christmas, from all things/people familiar.  We took a cruise and skipped Christmas.  I'm glad.  I wish I could've done it again this year, to be truthful.  

So last Christmas did not exist and therefore does not count as our "first" without you.  That is definitely this one.

     We came back home and shuffled forward .... and backward, mostly.  The kids all went back to school.  And we continued shuffling. 

I took the kids to the farm at Easter.  We needed to see your mom, who wasn't doing well.  It was the last time 4 of them saw her.  The next month she joined you and now I picture her standing next to you, waiting.  And loving having time with you.  I'm jealous.

     You missed the letter that told Daughter #1 she gained an interview with Harvard.  You missed that beaming face that lit up most of Texas.  (I'd like to think that you didn't really miss it, but I'm not sure where I stand on that.)  She doesn't beam all that much, as you know, so it was a big deal.  And I'm so thankful that I was there when she got the letter.

     You also missed the letter that told her she got accepted to the graduate program there. One of only four people.  We always knew she was intelligent .... too intelligent for me sometimes, but Harvard?  You would have been so very, very proud.  I'd like to think you are.  She left in July and she loves it.  She's even putting up with the cold, knowing that it's only a wee preview of the cold she'll find in Moscow in February.  Our little girl.  Our first baby ..... going off to Russia.  We did a good job, Jim.  She's very much like you.  :)

     You missed seeing Daughers #2 & #3 in the yearly college program "Sing" .... our first one to not see together.  They were amazing, as usual.  I went with several supportive friends and the other kids.  We had a good time.  Even though I cried through it all.  Another "first".

I hate "firsts".

   In May there were several of them.  Son #1 graduated from high school.  Our first without you.  He had his 18th birthday.  Daughters #2 & #3 had their 21st.  Big birthdays.  You left a big hole in those days.  

     In August I took Son #1 to college.  And didn't cry as much as I thought I would.  Of course, that's what I have Xanax for, too.  

I'm sure it's no surprise to you that he's loving it and that he should've been there at the age of 6.  He is so You.  It's unbelievable.  He would've made you proud in the way he's stepped up to take care of me ..... as much as I let him.  I never want him to feel pressured to be You.  Because he can't.  I think I've surprised him with the things I've done on my own.  Heck, I've surprised myself.  I'm sure you haven't been surprised at all.

     At the end of August I took Son #2 to military school.  I'm not going to lie, Jim ..... I have shed many tears and have had many angry words with you over this.  This is the ONE thing that makes me the most angry that you're not here.  I should NOT be doing this alone.  I should NOT have to put up with the anger, the frustration, the depression, the hateful and hurtful words  ..... not ANY of it .... alone.  Very, very alone.  I do not pretend to understand God's will in any of this.  I do not pretend to understand why I have to suffer losing you and go through this at the same time.  Sometimes I wonder what I must have done to piss Him off so much.  Or what I'm not learning that makes him keep slamming my heart to the ground.  

And so I shuffle. 

Son #2 seems to be trying to do better these past few weeks.  I wish you had been here to see him in his blues uniform.  You would've cried.  Don't try to deny it .... I've seen you cry over things related to the Marines many times.  You would've been proud .... and proud to have tears in your eyes.  I pray ...... sigh, I'm not sure what I pray for anymore when it comes to him.  I mostly cry and pray with groaning, trusting that God does indeed understand those prayers.  

But that son also makes me smile.  And he can make me laugh.  He has a great sense of humor and a deep and faithful heart.  He is going to do something big some day.  God has a firm grasp on that one, Jim.  I just wonder if I'll be around to see it?

And then there's Son #3.  You missed his football season this year.  His undefeated, District-winning football season.  He did a great job.  He's done a good job of helping, loving and protecting me this year.  He takes his job as "only child" quite seriously.  He certainly was God's gift to us, wasn't he?  

The house is much quieter.  After all, last year there were 6 of us living in it.  Now there are two.

So it's been a year.  A year of many, many "firsts".  Some horrible, some easier, all lonely.

Some days I can't imagine feeling any worse and then I get up the next day and .... I do.  

Some days I can't imagine feeling anything good and then I get up the next day and .... I do.

I have learned many things.  First, never expect things.  Just take each day as it comes.

And appreciate the time I have with our children.  And our wonderful, supportive friends.  Their acts of love, kindness and support would also have made you cry.  And you'd be proud.

I've learned what an awesome man you were.  I mean, I always knew that, but not to the extent that it goes.  

There are people from all over the world sending notes to me to tell me what you meant to them.  To tell me how you impacted their lives.  One of your accounting professors even called me at home the other day to tell me what you meant ..... way back then.

And tomorrow there will be a dedication in your memory.  A building here has your name on it.  Go figure!  You will go on impacting our school district, its teachers and its children for many more years.

I thank God for you every day.  I did it when you were alive (I'm so thankful that I always knew how blessed I was to have you)...... I do it still.  

There are no words to express my love for you, for our children and for the life we had together.  You were my heart, my soul and half of me.  I'm so thankful to God for putting us in that Speech class together 28 years ago.  I'm so thankful for the time we had, for the children we have, for the fun, laughs, tears, joys, frustrations, travels, love we had.  And for the love the kids and I still have for you.

And will always have.

And that, my Love, will carry me on into the next year.  God is still doing mighty things through you, Jim Eggers, and He is using the loss of you to do good.  

I love you.  I miss you.  I cry for you.  I smile and laugh at the memories of you.

And I can NOT wait to be with you again, hand in hand.

Give your mom a hug for me.

All of me,

Janine

Wild Crazy Lonely Shame

I'm lonely.

For several weeks I have been breathing in loneliness and exhaling it too. It soaks me in its wet, heavy haziness.

Every time I look anywhere, there is a couple, together, sharing a joke, a small gentle familiar kiss, a rest of a familiar hand on the small of a back, the lack of space between them

and all I can do was sigh.

When will my turn come?

It's no longer about dating men. It's about having one of my own.

I thought I had it with Mr. Singapore

only Mr. Singapore is well....

in Singapore for another four months.

I thought I had it with Mr. Bike,

only honestly, Mr. Bike is why I feel so lonely.

Mr. Bike is kind and warm and in the beginning so attentive. And then Mr. Bike stopped being attentive.

He's been so busy he says

He's opening a new store, he says

Reasonable excuses

But they

are

excuses

And when I voice my needs up against those excuses, I feel crazy.

And this is where I feel embarrassed. Instead of walking away, instead of saying "I am worthy of more than this" I picked up the attentive flame and ran after him.

"I'm here" I said, through txts and emails and phone calls.

I am not sure if I did it too much, not enough or if he just didn't speak the language but

I am not getting very much from him. Every time he throws me a damn crumb, I find myself hoping again.

I am having trouble letting this "relationship" go.

Laugher.

If this is a relationship then my standards have truly gone to an embarrassing low level.

Shame.

I think they have.

I keep him because he is the first man I can imagine keeping. I can see introducing him to my kids, taking him with us to the the ranch, hanging out with my friends. Because he is a most excellent kisser and because it's easy to be with him, when I'm with him.

I keep him because I don't want to be alone, even though I am.

And maybe that is his purpose, to show me the possibilities. To see that I can be in 'like' again, that I am capable of a relationship, that I want a relationship.

And I am afraid

that he is

all I can get.

The fear (and honestly the lack of faith) keep me entwined in him when it is better for me to let him go.

I am faced with this fact:

Being a widow, being someone who has profoundly lost

has left

me

shaken.

Death ripped me open

I am a "well dressed nerve" as my therapist says

and so I don't trust my judgment.

But staying feels awful.

Leaving is full of uncertainty and fear.

Just like death.

I will end this

or at least let it

fizzle out

I am tired of feeling wild crazy lonely

I have already been through so much.

But I think I may stay

for a little while longer

until another man

comes around.

I can leap to him

like a monkey from one tree to another

across the abyss

of loneliness.

The shame of not

being in

something

is

for me

better than being out of something.

I just can't take the loneliness anymore.

So I will take what he offers

until I can find better.

I will stay wild crazy lonely because

when he does give to me

it is exactly what I need.