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November 22nd will be the 1 year anniversary of my wife’s death.

I don't know how I will feel that day, but I know I don't want to spend it alone.

I am going to go out on a limb and suggest that my healing started the moment she took her last breath. At the time I would have bristled and denied vehemently if someone had the audacity to suggest such a thing.

However, approaching 10 months has given me time for perspective, like a small drop of water on a spoon to try and quench my thirst.

The first few days, weeks, after Bonnie died are indefinable. My most accurate description is that I felt like a little man inside a giant snow globe wandering around with no sense of direction, and very little clue to who I was. The image of the little boy running in a snowstorm in “The Shining” from his deranged father, although it was grief and fear of being alone that were chasing me.

Little by little, millimeter to inches, feet to yards, I realize I am healing and surviving.

I have come through important decisions on my own, things I put off I could no longer ignore- one was our “Living Trust” (some words have a profound sense of irony) and the myriad of legalese and paths that went with it. Selling a home I lived in for 25 years, with a family and two different spouses that I had lost suddenly became a priority, for walking into that home created what I can only describe as revisiting traumatic accidents every time I entered it.

Nonetheless, I am adjusting, slowly, to being single, and I'm discovering it isn't killing me. It has been a painful adjustment to being alone at night, no longer hearing my partner breathe as she lays next to me, the acute absence of hearing her singing in the shower, and I no longer have a person to ask for suggestions and getting more than I wanted – lol.

I long for the moments of sharing my feelings, emotions, pain, anger, disappointment, elation, love, with my wife.

My healing has been like navigating a huge mathematical algorithm that takes up 4 chalkboards. Some days I move a millimeter, other days, an inch or two, maybe a full yard on some days, but moving I am, there is no option, no plan B, not for me.

There was an incident on my journey;  I felt so alone I took some people with me. I compare it to being in ice cold water freezing to death, and yanking someone off the lifeboat so I won't drown alone. As awful as this may sound there have been moments where my thoughts have been “If you want to know what real pain and loss is, I'll help create some for you!”

That is my biggest regret, that in my pain I caused pain for others that I love.

But today, I still “Move forward” and “Survive.”

 

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Comment by Callie2 on September 9, 2017 at 10:25pm
Soulmate, its's a lengthy process (painstakingly slow) but we must heal from the inside out. As we navigate through our grief journey (after the gut-wrenching pain subsides) I think we begin to do a lot of thinking as we try to make sense of it all. The emotions you describe including the anger are quite common. Forgive yourself and continue to heal. Wishing you peace.
Comment by Athena53 on September 5, 2017 at 2:35pm

Very eloquently written.  I'm also close to one year out- my husband died on November 15.  I've posted this thought before, but sometimes I feel as if I closed the door on one wonderful section of my life and opened the door to another,  It's still weird to think of something I want to tell Ron, or to reach over in the middle of the night to touch that comforting warm lump next to me, and realize he's not here anymore.  Slowly, though, I'm making small changes and building a life that suits me.  I've traveled to new places (Panama and Costa Rica) but also just went back to Iceland, which we'd visited together, and had a great trip on my own.  (My profile pic was taken last month in Greenland.)  We have no choice- the old life isn't coming back.

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