It's been a long time.... in emotions if not in actual time.... Though I suppose 3 months is a long time for a blog.
Nathan (my husband... as if there is anyone who reads my blog who doesn't know me) passed away on Jan 29. He would have been 26 on Jan 31st. He was buried in Ft Smith on Friday... and I came back to our apartment yesterday for the first time. His ukulele that he bought after Christmas and named Ukiko (he said it meant "child of joy or happiness") is still sitting next to his armchair. His clothes are still in the closet. The Pandora station is still tuned to his "acoustic new age" station... and it all makes me miss him so much. Granted the acoustic new age-ness probably doesn't help pull me out of it cause it all sounds so melancholy. But my heart is hurting. Sometimes it just feels like a big hole is ripped right out of the center of me. Everyone has been so incredibly kind to me, and I'm so grateful... and I know he is free of all the pain that was becoming his life and I'm grateful for that, too. But I miss him.
I know this isn't the stuff my blog normally consists of... no mention of hats or lemon bars. But it's a place where I can be honest and it's a place where I can pour out some of the grief, and I know you will all understand or just not read. I don't really know how to handle any of this... I don't really know anyone who's gone through something like this at my age. Everyone says they can't imagine what I'm going through... most of the time I can't imagine it either... perhaps that's just shock.... It still doesn't seem real, most times.
As I've said before I get really worried about what other people think of me... My friends have told me several times that I'm allowed to do/act/feel any way that I want right now and that I shouldn't give two cents about other people cause they will get over it... but I suppose it is my tragic flaw, if people other than characters in Greek dramas can have them. I worry about what people think of me going sledding the day after we buried Nathan... but I know that he wanted me to be happy and sliding down a hill for a few hours helps me forget... I know that the Twilight books aren't exactly considered epic works of great literature, but I understand what Bella is doing in New Moon when she starts trying dangerous things. There is something about doing something dangerous that makes you feel more alive. Don't worry, I'm not gonna start jumping off cliffs (still can't swim!) or learning how to drive a motorcycle.... In fact, sledding is as dangerous as it will get... but the physicality of it gives me something to focus on that isn't sorrow. Shooting down the hill gives me freedom... and soreness the next day.... but mainly it gives me the chance to laugh.
Groups are hard for me right now. With just one person I can be sad and then distract myself and be happy and I don't have to worry about killing the mood or jumping around too quickly... at least not if the person I'm talking to is patient. I have no doubt that Nathan is happy and in a better place than this broken old world with it's pain and disease. But seeing him looking like the sculpture of the man I love... still breaks my heart. I didn't want him to leave, but I knew he had to. I just don't know what to do with what's left. Now I'd like to ask your forgiveness as I indulge myself in some mediocre but heartfelt poetry.
It's all just sticks and stones and guessing games
wishing I was six
and life was just pretend
There isn't a future
just coloring pages and hopscotch
and angels in the snow.
With closed eyes I can
rest on your shoulder
hear "it's gonna be ok."
But pretend has never been able to hide truth
not when it's love
not when it's death
There was supposed to be more-
time to grow up
to become adults rather than just playing at it
wish I had the rest of my life
to be a kid with you.
I was so blessed to be yours
and to be thought a treasure
to feel the pride and love
coming from your eyes if for too short a time
Life won't stay mournful strings forever
though I'm not sure which is harder
holding on
or letting go.
Yeah... I should probably change the Pandora station, huh?
*hug*
ReplyDeleteI like your mediocre yet heartfelt poetry.
If it's worth anything, I don't think anyone is going to think ill of you for going sledding. I'm pretty sure they'll understand. I know what you mean about always worrying about what other people think, though...that's my "tragic flaw" too. It's hard to get over that habit of always thinking about that! I usually have to remind myself (repeatedly) that the others probably aren't looking at & judging me the way I am looking at & judging myself.
-Rebecca
Thank you for sharing this, Renee. I think it's great that you went sledding, and I certainly didn't judge you! I don't know what being widowed would be like, but I picture myself not showering, wearing Philip's clothes and watching old movies, like in PS I Love You. I hope I wouldn't be that dramatic...what I mean is, I understand. Aside from my mom, I don't know many "younger" widows. It's not something that life prepares us for.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what else to say without sounding cliche, but my offer on Sunday still stands :)
Christina
Renee, I can assure you the reaction of everyone who knew you were going sledding was, "Oh, good." We all want you to have some moments of relief. I can assure you that nobody, anywhere, is under the impression that you are shrugging this off. Not that it matters what anyone thinks.
ReplyDeleteBut I don't think you are alone in worry about what other people will think. Matt was worried at the funeral that he didn't look sad enough, even though he felt so sad. I was worried I would look too sad and everyone would say, "What is she so sad for? She only knew him for a couple of years. She should get her emotions out of the way and let the *real* friends grieve." As if there is someone out there measuring grief and expressions of grief... Or as if grief were a zero-sum game and taking too much or too little would take away from/ put too much on everyone else. Really, if there were such a person out there with little grief score cards, that would be a very, very odd and twisted thing to do.
Your poem was truly beautiful.
"to feel the pride and love
coming from your eyes"- that is a look that I saw between the two of you many times. I can only imagine what losing that must be doing to you. So, please go sledding. Or whatever it takes.
Hi... you don't know me, but I get you. My sister and I lost our husbands 10 years ago in a canoeing accident. In one moment your life changes forever. I was 23, had just celebrated my year anniversary with the one my heart loved. I'm so sorry! Death stinks. As I walked through the valley of death, I wondered if I would survive myself. It has been 10 years of healing, or dying so that I could live again, a moment by moment endeavor to learn how to live with the scars of the wounds of life. My sister and I have learned a great deal through this tragedy. We are forever different people. We had each other... as horrible as it was to grieve over our own loss, we grieved for one another as well, BUT on the other hand, we had each other... another widow that knew the craziness that you were feeling. We lost our father 8 months before that, so our mom was a widow as well.
ReplyDeleteWe have a mutual friend, Jennifer McClure. She sent Holly and I a link to your blog. My heart is aching for you, sweet girl, and praying for you right now. Just wanted you to know that you aren't the only one out there and I just wanted to say you can email or call one of us anytime... sometimes it's nice to talk to a stranger, and especially someone that knows what you are going through. We recently put our journey in a book to share with others. When or if you are interested I'll send one your way. I know you will relate to it in a special way... unfortunately. Hopefully though when the time is right, it will encourage and be somewhat of a hand to hold as you walk this road.
Spilling out your feelings and emotions is very therapeutic! It was for me!! I know that it's healing for you and it's enlightening to all those around you that care about you. May God bless you as you journey on, finding truth among the ashes.
Here's my email address if you want to privately contact me: gilionheather@gmail.com
I totally agree with Sadie - I think right now Jon and I are both constantly thinking about how "proper" our emotions and actions are to others. Sometimes I'll be fine, and the next minute I'm ditching something because it's too hard, and worrying what everyone there will think...or bursting into tears at work for no reason, and worrying that my coworkers think I've flipped the lid. We all have to keep telling ourselves that it's ok to feel what we feel, and everyone else is probably too wrapped up in themselves to notice. Or they're noticing, but understanding. Or they're judging, and they should be ignored. Maybe they're judging, but then they feel bad about themselves for judging, and worried about what everyone thinks of them.
ReplyDeleteI cried in the car this morning because Jon and I didn't have a fantastic conversation on the way to work. At 8:30 on a Monday morning. Without coffee. While my throat hurt, so I couldn't talk that much. I knew at the time that silence was perfectly normal under the circumstances, but I couldn't help freaking out that Jon was angry at me and our whole marriage was ruined. But I know I'm just emotionally raw, and for a messy ball of emotions like me, these things will happen. And hopefully they will happen less frequently, over time.
I really like the poem.
ReplyDelete