He was alive. The hardest thing for me right now is the odd, odd, odd way I slip between the pain of his absence and feeling like he died years ago and is just a memory. When I get moving on tasks that need to get done, I can think about him and it feels so long ago that he was here and sharing this with me. In an odd way that's harder for my heart than minutes later when I'm weeping from some bump of familiarity such as "his hands were the last that touched this gas can, grease gun etc".
I am such a newbie with this grief thing. I had no idea what it would be like. Thank God I like solitude and the pain of growing into undeveloped parts of myself, or this grief time would be even more devistaiting. It's just not consistent; I never know how I'll feel.
But I seem to be growing into asking for help, and being open to whenever/however the help may come. I took a truck load of dead hoses and broken plastic to the dump yesterday, and I have a plan for slowly, slowly making greater order out of the chaos or at least making it more my mess so I know where the hell things are! I'm using "yes" as my mantra, when folks or circumstances offer me succour in whatever the form is at the moment, and then pull back before I am over full. I'm trying to not offer loved ones more help than I can afford to give. In short, I'm cleaning up my psyche's house and trying out new self care "habits".
I don't want to waste the fact I am so untethered, unmoored by this change; I want to use this loss to move forward into becoming more of who I can be. And I also want to go to sleep and not wake up. You know, he wanted both too. And got them. both.
1 comment:
the pain, the loss, the pain, the grief... will I ever get through it? yes, came the voice, yes, you will get through it... you will emerge if you do not avoid it... if you enter into it and the struggle... you will become more of who you are.
love and blessings dear friend!
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