"Go Your Own Way . . ."

Lyrics from "Go Your Own Way" by Fleetwood Mac

It’s been a long time since I’ve been here, and yet again, not because the pain is lessening. These past few weeks have been absolutely horrible and I am glad that the new week is here. With Spring always came the celebration of our births, then Mother’s Day. It was a 2-week festival of sorts for us, as we would embellish each other with hugs, sweet nothings, and small trinkets of devotion. There were always a few dinners thrown in, just for fun. Of course this year, there was none of that, as not only are you gone, so are all the Mothers that ‘borned’ us and loved us (your words, not mine). There was quite a bit of crying, outbursts and isolation, as I knew that I would struggle these past few weeks. I chose to stay home, with our son, and we struggled with our emotions (and each other). I must say that I feel stronger, coming out on the other side of these events, but I would wish this pain on no one.

I desperately want to reach out, and it is more of a struggle than I had thought. Does that mean I am healing? I can only hope. To think that it has been eight months since you left me here, alone and scared of my independent future. Quite a strange feeling, as I always believed that I was quite independent (but you knew better). There is a ‘new norm’ in the air; from my dreams about you to my everyday existence. Everything is changing. So here I sit, attempting to collect my thoughts and reflect on these past weeks. This is my roller coaster of emotions and hopefully will result in personal growth.

I now accept that I probably won’t die from the pain of missing you, as I’m becoming familiar with it now. I still stroke your boots and touch your clothes in the closet. Your sink is still a shrine that I dust every weekend, and I occasionally look through your trinket drawer, full of your items I couldn’t toss or give away. I now slip over to your side of the bed, hoping no one will see (like who would see – the cats?). I also notice that the smell of our home is changing too. There is a sweet smell now, whereas before it was more of a musk smell (which I adored, except for the smokiness).

I now accept that I’m no longer a happy person – if I’m not sad, I am usually angry. The only escape that I get from missing you is the 9-10 hours that I spend at work, putting on the widow’s mask. Everyone else has moved on, as they should, with their fulfilled lives and going home to partners. I am angry that there will be no more anniversaries, no more birthdays, no one at home waiting for me, and no more celebration of ‘us’. I am angry that I now must create a new future – one that is now full of uncertainty and fear. I am angry that you left me. You left me with all that is cold and black and I wonder if I will ever bask in the sun again.

I am hopeful that I will feel the sun again, but can honestly say that recently, I see no light and feel no warmth. I live in one of the hottest places in the entire United States, and I am cold. I am hopeful that this is yet another phase – one that I must endure after coming through the other side of a very painful couple of weeks.

I am. I am angry and I am hurt. I am lost, searching for all that is warm and bright. Through all the darkness, I can still scream that “I love you, Babe!", with all that I am and all that I hope to become. I want to make you proud as I continue to pull myself up off the ground and walk this journey. I know it will get better, but when? When?!?!?

'I'm wild eyed, in my misery . . .'

Lyrics from Sorcerer (Fleetwood Mac)

I am feeling so lost and tired. It has been a hard 3 days from a difficult week. I find myself crying and wallowing in self-pity and can’t concentrate on much. I’m also quite angry and am lashing out at those that have failed me. Why can’t I be more forgiving?!?!?! I am looking high and low for the strength to sustain me.

I’ve been dreading April/May, as they are our ‘special months’ of the year. Yet, here we are! Now I have no one to celebrate them with that would understand how special they are. This is my first tax filing in 32 years without you (and I still haven’t done it). This is also my first Mother’s Day without mom (and you), followed by the celebration of your birth. If it was possible to just sleep for the next 6 weeks, I would (and hopefully dream of you). I just want the world to stop – even if it were just for a few hours.

I’ve got to stop this destructive merry-go-round and start looking for opportunities of change. I feel I’m ready, even though it has been only 6 months of my new 'wwl'. There is too much pain here without you, and what should be easy decisions are quite difficult. Everywhere I look reminds me of you and the dreams that we had together. I pray for guidance, plead for guidance – would sell my soul to make this pain go away. Love you Babe, and I’m really hurting right now.

"When I see You again, will it be the same? . . ."

Lyrics from When I See You Again (Fleetwood Mac)

I’ve been thinking about you continually the past few days, and this song really touches my soul right now. These past few weeks have been quite hard, and all I do is wish you were here – with me. I am at the “six-month” mark, living this new life without you. Six months, .5 years, a lifetime for some organisms.

I catch myself remembering the ‘us’ from several years ago. I know that what we had was really great and have had that confirmed in so many ways. How many couples can really finish each other’s thoughts and sentences?!?!?! How many can pick up the other up and carry the load when their partner is flailing in the quicksand?!?!?! I loved that the most about ‘us’. We intuitively knew when the other was struggling, and we had the strength to carry each other through so many difficult times through the years.  I am finding that our love was a treasure – one that would have been envied by any that understood it, and could never be bought.

A comment was made last week, by a close relative that made me sad when I initially heard it. As I re-think the statement, it warms me and brings me comfort. I was told “I really wish I knew the Grant that was fondly remembered at his memorial.” Of course, I was shocked and felt kicked in the stomach, as I thought everyone knew the ‘wonderful you’. Being my patient (and analytic) self, I absorbed those words and really tried to understand why a family member would feel so distant from the real you. It became clear to me that no one experienced the real you in our family because I selfishly kept you to myself. We needed no one else and isolated ourselves with each other, because that was all that we needed to live and be happy. I truly believe this! In a sense, we had become conjoined twins. I now feel like an amputee, struggling with life and attempting to adjust with my new body. I don’t like it, but I accept it and am determined to make it work.

I’m having dreams about ‘us’ again, and they are happy and complete. I don’t want these dreams to end, and could happily dream my life away, until we meet again. If we meet again – Wow, the big question! I find myself hoping that we will see each other again and those connections will re-ignite, with nothing lost. We will be one again, conjoined - as it should be. I continue to nurture the love that I felt from you and it brings me such comfort during the difficult times (and there are many now). I know I will never find another like you, and can’t even fathom the search. I am sending you much love – can you feel it Babe?!?!?!

"Like a Ghost through a Fog . . ."

Lyrics from Angel (Fleetwood Mac) 

It has been a while since I posted here and shared what I am thinking. I only wish it was because I was moving on and missing you less. I can’t believe where I am at today. You’ve been gone almost 6 months and now mom is gone too! These last few weeks have been hell on earth, as I watched her struggle and do all that could to make her as comfortable as possible. I thought of you many times, wondering if you were going through some of the same pain, quietly, on your own. I now think I was shallow and cold for not seeing the struggles you endured until it was too late. Oh, if I could turn back the hands of time, the things I would change.

Why didn’t you tell me how unwell you were feeling?! I ask myself this question over and over again. As we desperately searched for answers on mom’s condition, I wondered if the same effort would have made the difference with you. I accept that you did things your own way, but still can’t believe that I didn’t see the end coming until it was too late. Did you know something about your health that you didn’t share with me? I wouldn’t be surprised, as you always tried to protect me from dire news. Now I constantly think of my own mortality and what am I going to do with my time here on earth. I haven’t come up with the answers yet, but I know that they are there and I keep searching.

I just wish that you were here with me today with your loving arms. I could really use them now. I’ve found that when I miss you most is when I need that shoulder to cry on or for you to just hold me until I fall asleep. Last night I closed my eyes and imagined you there. I even made a pact with God, that if I could just have the “ghost you”, I’d be more spiritual, giving and do anything that he’d ask of me. Any part of you being with me would be pure joy now, and all I have are memories. 

Memories – without photos, how clear would they be? You would not believe the boxes of photos that were found – literally everywhere! So many of us as a family. We were young, naive, and genuinely happy. I can’t wait to organize and scan them to share with the rest of the family.  

I am determined to make the most of this new weird widow’s lyfe, and I am doing my best! I miss you terribly, and ache to be with you again. Love you babe!