We write about widowhood as we live it. Together we examine the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of life as a widowed person. The views expressed here are those held by each individual author. We take no credit for their brillance; we just provide them with a forum for expressing their widowed journey in words that are uniquely their own.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Lost
There are days when I am still astounded that he hasn't come home.
6:30 pm rolls around and I find myself listening for the distinctive note of his car pulling into the driveway.
I find myself looking for him in the shed, expecting to see him fixing something on his workbench.
My brain hasn't worked out that he is gone.
I am like Red Dog, searching high and low for the one he loves. Searching faces and seeming to ask "have you seen him?" Going from place to place, determined to find the person who he loved above all others. Never stopping.
On the day Greg died, I looked for him in the faces of the policemen, expecting them to tell me where he was ... when they had already told me where he wasn't.
I searched the faces of his friends.
I search for him every night in my dreams .... and sometimes I find him.
I found him in my dreams last week and I asked him WHY he had to go. (That question that we all wonder: WHY did they die, WHY are we left here without them, WHY they were taken long before their time???)
In the dream, he just carried on making a sandwich and explained (as though repeating himself for the umpteenth time) that "there was a car accident".
....and even though that is the truth of it, it doesn't seem to stop my subconscious mind from searching for him every day and every night.
Because I have lost him, and I still have this desperate need to find him.
.
.
.
.
.
.
... I know the word "loss / lost" annoys a lot of widows and I want to assure you that I do know exactly where his body is, but "lost" is a word I often use because it describes how *I* feel as well.
Labels:
Amanda,
Australia,
car accident,
grief,
struggling,
suddenly widowed,
trauma
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
This brings me a lot of comfort, to hear someone else does this searching, this expecting to see him. I am seven months out and I thought that it meant I was still a long way from the acceptance stage but reading your post, I feel there is more to it than that. Something/someone is missing from all of us who have lost our spouses and maybe it's natural to look for that something/someone so significant. I, personally, do not find that word offensive at all because I feel my husband's death was a HUGE, incredible loss.
ReplyDeleteI feel the same way at times....everything is going along just fine and then suddenly I feel this enormous overwhelming loss. This post is very timely....I woke up last night at about 3 am and the only thoughts running through my head were how I wished Brian would show me a sign, comfort me, feel his presence.
ReplyDeleteHugs coming to you
Amanda, I loved this post! My husband died suddenly in March of 2010 and I still have that feeling of trying to find him and waiting for him to return. Obviously, not as intense as it was at the beginning but still some days or especially times of the day. I am disturbed that I can't seem to dream about him either.
ReplyDeleteFor some reason the word "loss" never really bothered me, but I can understand why it would.
The "whys".... I do not think I will ever stop asking recognizing of course that I will never get a response.
Thank you!
OMG Amanda! This is exactly what happened to me last week. I was laying in bed and looking toward the side where my husband used to lay. Then I was picturing him in the hospital bed we had for him the last year and a half of his life. I was trying so hard to just "imagine" him there - to produce the image of his body beside me.
ReplyDeleteThen as if my mind spoke to my heart, I heard "He is never coming back you know that don't you? Never."
I sobbed for hours. It was like it was new again. That fresh shocking, heart stabbing pain. Never.
I think it takes a very long time for the heart to understand the permanence of death.
Not long after my husband died ( he passed in November, this was last December) my grandson (7) came to me and said "everytime I come in the house I expect to see Papa. I feel like if we just get in the car and keep looking for him we will find him. "
It was so moving and so clear. It does feel like they are lost. It does feel like someday . . . maybe. . . .there they will be - whole, smiling, returned.
I want to believe what my husband said to me before he died "I found you once, I will find you again".
In the next life ~
Peace
it is still so bizarre. I find myself saying that a lot, still - Really? What now? No way, he'll be home soon.
ReplyDeleteThe sudden irrevocable disappearance just does not compute.
I see myself in all the posts...lost, saying "this is my life? Really? " Thanks all for sharing.
ReplyDeleteAll- I want so much to dream about my husband. I have seen him twice in dreams but once he never spoke, just smiled and looked wonderful. The second time he spoke but only one sentence but he wasn't looking at me. Others have dreamed about him (my son, my friend) and they were both so astounded at how great he looked, how strong his voice was. Anyway, since he died I still dream but really never seem to remember them the way I used to. I think that if I dream about him and on a regular basis he won't seem "lost" to me. He;ll be right there. Oh, I miss him so. Love and hugs to all.
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing. This post was a trigger for my heart. It's 2 years since I lost my husband, and every so often I think - is this really my life, when will this nightmare be over? I want him to just come back so we can go on with our lives, I then go thru anxiety and tears - because reality comes crashing back. Logically in my brain I know the truth but my heart still doesn't - it's still so very broken. I still miss him so very much and I feel lost in this great big world without my better half by my side.
ReplyDeleteStrange to read this just now. I haven't been to this site in awile but right before I came here, I looked at my husband's work clothes that he set out the night before he died. They've been in the same place for nearly a year....I can't bear to move them. I think I expect him to appear and just pick up where this nightmare started. So I leave the clothes there...just in case. And I think, "maybe I'm just dreaming and when I awaken everything will be as it was before I fell asleep." It's crazy, isn't it?
ReplyDeleteThis is a very perceptive post. My husband was killed in an accident. I remember being obsessed with opening every drawer in the house, every suitcase of his, anything that had his items inside. Many times over. It was awhile before I realized that my subconcious mind was trying to find him in all those places (like he'd actually be tucked into a drawer). I can laugh at that behavior now but at the time I really was possessed with finding him. As one who is many years out, I can say it really does take some time to reconcile the reality of it all, but rest assured, it does reconcile.
ReplyDeleteP.S. I had many dreams with him in them, but he never communicated with me other than with a feeling. A few of those dreams were from when we were young and he was trying to tell me he wanted to break up with me. I also had a couple dreams where he came back and hadn't really died at all, but I had moved on with my life so it was sad and happy all over again. The mind will keep processing no matter what but you will become more resilient in your responses to it.
No - not crazy. Magical thinking.
ReplyDeleteIt is what we wish and if we wish so hard, with all of our hearts. Maybe . . .just maybe it will all go back to the way it was.
But it can't.
Small steps . . . maybe ~ put the clothes in another place. Keep them but in a place that says . . .time has passed now.
I think when we can make small steps, we help our heart come to grips with the reality. It also helps us to grieve.
I still have a dresser filled with my husbands things. His favourite sweaters, personal items, cards, love notes. When I need them, they are there. I can open a drawer and immerse myself.
But - I moved the personal toiletries, his clothes are gone from the closet. I couldn't bear to face them day after day. His absence is present in every space i move into. I needed to make some changes to help myself move forward just a little bit.
You will know when it is time.