Wednesday, May 13, 2009

up and down and all around

When someone asks me casually, "How are you?" I often feel that I am being honest when I say "fine", "okay" or even "good". The truth is that many times, I don't give it much thought, not even out of negligence, but out of a need to cope. I am doing SO much better than I was a year ago. Somedays, I think I'm a bloody master of grief. But I am always, always too cocky for my own good.
The waves of grief and shock still smack me upside the head unexpectedly. I am always surprised when I am forced to my knees by sadness again. I am always missing him. I am always aware that he is gone. That I will never feel his love again. That I have lost him forever. It's always there in the background, running like the far-off sound of the fridge in the kitchen. But now, I am getting somewhat better at muffling it. So when that 'appliance noise' gets loud again and drowns out everything else, I've always put my ear plugs away and am left reeling with surprise when the caucophenous noise erupts within my patchwork heart.
Why am I surprised that it is hitting me again?
I have told others how I think that these waves are our way of coping with grief. We can't take it in full-force. We need small sips or the strength of it will destroy us. Like a horrible tasting medication that you loathe, it is necessary to heal. But, I always wonder if I've taken my last dose. That I am 'better'. That maybe I can be whole now. I'll have to keep reminding myself that this medication needs to be administered again and again until I no longer need it...So I must need it now. I must relish that this pain and sadness is in someway healing this broken heart. I can't turn my head away. I have to take it or I will become even more ill.
I have a sneaky suspicion that this medication is now a lifetime prescription, but at least it doesn't need to be administered as often as it was initially. Right?


Suddenwidow said...

I sure hope that the dose of this medicine gets smaller with time because I feel like my dose is increasing the last few days and these steps backword are shaking me to the core. Thanks for your post Jackie. Hope tomorrow brings good things for you.

Hawkfeather said...

I dunno momma- if you really took it all at once- what are the odds you would even walk out the other side?

seems like survival to me.

maybe rather than sipping bad medicine it is like building up a tolerance to poison.

I know when I read your words- or the words of others suffering a loss I wonder about this sentiment...
about never feeling his love again.

There have been times in life when I've wondered about my belief system and the one thing that shines through as a constant is *love*.. with no start and no end.. this thing we can not see or touch- but know it exists because we can feel it...

as a real solid thing- and it is *real*.. but still intangible,
I like to think once it is given- put out into the universe it is never ending.

I am thinking about you Jackie!

Single Parent Dad said...

The 'how are you' question is as much a flippant inquiry that needs that glib response. I think it is something people just can't help but say, without really engaging brain.

I agree waves, bursts and starts, highs and lows. At the most unexpected, and perceived inappropriate times.

Personally I am coming up to the 4th anniversary of my wife's death, and these things still happen. And I take comfort that they do. Being able to feel this way, and these emotions, is a gift - in a way. Your life, past and present, will be richer for your emotional strength and appreciation. (IMHO obviously).

Take care.

Mel said...

Hi Jackie,
I just found out about a widows conference in San Diego in July... it would be great to meet you if you are interested in attending. I know you're not in the area, but just in case :)

The line that convinced me to go is: "Saturday morning will begin with a gathering unlike any you have ever attended. Standing shoulder to shoulder with widows of all ages, creeds, and circumstances we will come together to celebrate our strength, our love, and to discover our passion."


Miriam's Art Journal BLOG said...

I went through a catastrophic loss of a loved one a few years ago and I feel I am still grieving.....but the grieving changes with time....I wrote a poem about this in my blog a few days ago that helped me in writing it....

Roads said...

How are you?Sometimes I found that Crap. Just crap was the perfect answer to break the ice and start up a real conversation, rather than an empty one.

Yeah, those waves of grief. They roll in, unbidden and sometimes when you least expect them. Is there ever a 'last one'? I doubt it.

But suddenly you know that however big they are, you'll be able to deal with them. That's progress.

Kind regards from London, and spirits up.