During a regular old average conversation last week in the chat room, we talked about "happy places". It was then that I realized, my happy place is gone. Jerry's arms have always been my refuge, my delight, my happy place. Since that conversation, I've been feeling small and a little bit lost. Unsheltered, unrested, and undone! Perhaps it's because the 6-month mark is approaching. I'm not sure how, as time seems to be altered to me. Jerry died, yesterday, last week, last night and 5 months 2 weeks ago. I'm digressing now... I've been experiencing such a profound sadness paralleling a strange wonder... I daydream about a new happy place for me while wiping tears away. Will, it be a sunny beach, a sunset on the lake, a snowy mountain retreat or a lazy day at home watching Netflix?
I spend a good amount of time examining myself in grief and how I relate to both the world around me and the slow not so steady metamorphosis that's occurring within me. I look for ways to quell the horror of knowing that my love, the wonderful man that still owns my heart along with a piece of my soul is laying stone cold dead entombed in a slab of pinkish marble. I'd go mad if I allowed myself to linger there for long. Hot acidic bile rises as I swallow profusely, remembering and half chanting this isn't forever. These moments pass, happiness, delight, contentment these are not fictitious emotions. Nor, are they once in a lifetime emotions. There is something in me that's unsinkable, I rally back each time with some sort of positive insight. I will be a better person for having to go through this. I will be stronger than I ever have been. I hope I'll come out of it a little, no make that a lot, smarter. I can now close my eyes, and imagine Jerry up, I see him so clearly with a bright golden sparkly light surrounding him, as he smiles at me with his goofy mischievous grin. His beautiful blue eyes twinkle with more knowledge than I'll ever possess. He never speaks to me when I imagine him up, but somehow he conveys his love to me. Somehow, his eyes tell me, that most especially when I'm feeling small, alone and overwhelmed to get up and fight harder to kick griefs ass.
Here I go again, feeling small...I try to roar and a tiny meow squeaks out. It's okay, there is a time to learn, to grow, and to mourn. I have the rest of my life to find a new happy place so, I don't need to rush. I plan to feel sad, smile through my tears...and also to enjoy the journey. The how of it isn't much of a mystery to me anymore, I'm beginning to understand. Whew, blogging is really cathartic; just like that, I see my silver lining, and I feel right side up again. Maybe it was a growth spurt! PEACE