There are days that I feel like no one gets it. "It" being the loss of a spouse, of part of you, of your other half. People try their best -- and I get that and I appreciate the effort. But until you have truly experienced the loss of a spouse, you simply do not understand. You CAN'T fully understand. It's simply not possible.
Some will say "well, I lost my grandmother, I understand." No, you don't.
Some will say "well, I lost my friend, I understand." No, you don't.
Some will even say "well, I lost my parent, I understand." No, you don't.
Some will say "well, I lost my dog/hamster/goat, I understand." No, you don't. (And, are you kidding me??! I love my pets to but to compare their loss with that of a human is just shallow and naive).
The only loss that I think would compete, for lack of a better word, would be the loss of a child and I think that would be so much more horrible than losing a spouse -- there simply aren't words.
I loved both of my grandmothers and my grandfather and, when they died, I mourned their loss and I moved forward. I loved my father and when he died, I mourned his loss and moved forward. I loved Paul, and Sharon, and everyone else special to me that has died in the last few years. I've mourned their loss and have moved forward. This doesn't mean I don't think about them -- I do, all the time -- but the grief isn't constant, nonstop, unrelenting.
When Steve died, I lost an entire part of my being. Of my soul. Of my body. My heart BROKE.
Physically, I'm all here -- but once you scratch away even just the top layer, you will see that a HUGE part of me is missing. It's gone. I will never be whole the way I was before. I may be whole again, and I pray that I will be -- but my life will never be the way it was. Bear will never have his Dad back. I will never grow old with Steve. He won't be at Bear's little league games, dentist appointments, able to help him through chicken pox, tease him about his first girlfriend, console him through his first breakup, talk to him about the birds and the bees, attend his graduation or dance with me at Bear's wedding.
From the outside looking in, we look like we're doing okay. We have found reasons to laugh again, to have fun again... No one sees the tears at midnight when I climb the stairs to go to bed alone.........again. No one sees the tears of a young boy who kisses a photo of his Dad before going to sleep. No one feels his sadness when he's angry and hurls his Dad's picture across his bedroom floor while declaring "I HATE DADDY!" No one feels the frustration when it's only me to help Bear with his homework after a crappy day at work (and who worries about helping him in math when we get beyond addition and frustration - I've always sucked at math, but it was one of Steve's strengths).
The holidays are coming up. It's a time that I used to look forward to that now just brings me to my knees. In the next 10 weeks we have family pictures (of just Bear and I....sigh), Halloween, what should have been my 9th wedding anniversary,Thanksgiving, Bear's 7th birthday, Christmas and New Year's. All things that Steve should be here for. But he's not. And I'm left with deciding which traditions I can stomach and which will bring me to my knees.
1 comment:
Wow! Did you say exactly what I have been feeling for six months!! My husband died on 5/7/09 at 1:42 am, just under an hour after walking through the doors of the ER for what we thought was a gall bladder attack. Turned out to be a massive heart attack. Everyone tells me how great I'm holding up, but they don't see me cry myself to sleep at night. I cried through my 7 year old son's football conditioning as I watched dads interact and give advice to their sons. No one can understand!! Thanks for sharing!
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