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Aseret 
Vincent would have turned 48 this month. Of course, he will remain 47 forever, long after I'm well past the age he was. Soon it will be a year since he died. I wonder will I feel any different on the 366th day? No, I think not. I will probably miss him all the more. I have spent nearly a year looking back, thinking how totally different things were just a year ago.
I found this essay online and it really went to the heart of how I feel these days. I thought I would share....
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The hurt never goes away. We never forget. We never get over it. We don't want to. We hurt so much because we loved so much. But the focus on death and the event fades, and the warmth of good memories replaces it. We can still go back there in an instant—back to the call, the moment where it all changed forever. Back to the night that will forever separate our life between “Before” and “Now”.
I have fewer friends--better friends, but fewer. I am out of the circle now. The amazing thing is how much I don't care. I have new and different priorities. I move through life a little slower, a little more tuned to life around me, and to life gone too soon. I hurt for the people who share this walk with me. I feel for them and for their families in a way I could never have before. I value people more than things, moments more than milestones, and I no longer equate what I do with who I am.
I am not having the life I expected to have. When you are unhappy your image of where you should be is dramatically different from where you really are. The reality of the life we are going to have is altered forever. How many times do we imagine them here with us today?
I do not mourn the past. The past was good enough for me. What I mourn is the life that could have been, but will not be. Not now. Not ever. The grief I have goes unspoken much of the time. I miss him quietly and silently to myself. I grieve for his loss; the loss of the person he was, the loss of the life I would be having if he were here. I grieve for the person I once was.
I made a list of the people who where there when I needed them most. These are the people who dropped everything on a moment's phone call. The faces and voices that came to us through the haze and the numbness of that awful time. I want to find those people and say thank you.
It does no good for the loss of one to lead to the loss of two. What does do good--is doing good. To decide to live the second part of your life differently than you would have before in your loved one’s name. When we do that, when we do one small act of kindness we never would have done before, when we reach out to others because we have been there, then the world is changed in some small way for the better. The actions we take can become a living tribute to our loved one’s life. And in that act, they are never gone from us.
Comments
"When we are drawn into the brotherhood or sisterhood of loss,
tenderness seems to be our natural state. We are so vulnerable.
Everything brushes against the raw wound of our grief, reminding us
of what we have lost, triggering memories - a tilt of the head, a
laugh, a way of walking, a touch, a particular conversation. These
images are like beads strung together on the necklace of loss.
Tenderly, we turn them again and again. We cannot bear them. We
cannot let them go.
Then, gradually, bit by bit, the binding thread of grief somehow
transmutes, reconstitutes itself as a thread of treasured memories -
a tilt of the head, a laugh, a way of walking, a touch, a particular
conversation as gifts from the life we shared with the one we have
lost, gifts that can never be taken away."
(Martha Whitmore Hickman)
tenderness seems to be our natural state. We are so vulnerable.
Everything brushes against the raw wound of our grief, reminding us
of what we have lost, triggering memories - a tilt of the head, a
laugh, a way of walking, a touch, a particular conversation. These
images are like beads strung together on the necklace of loss.
Tenderly, we turn them again and again. We cannot bear them. We
cannot let them go.
Then, gradually, bit by bit, the binding thread of grief somehow
transmutes, reconstitutes itself as a thread of treasured memories -
a tilt of the head, a laugh, a way of walking, a touch, a particular
conversation as gifts from the life we shared with the one we have
lost, gifts that can never be taken away."
(Martha Whitmore Hickman)
Comments
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Hi Teresa, thanks for sharing this quote. This is so accurate. I hope all is well for you today. The holidays have really got me down but I will be okay.
This is something that came to me through my SOS support group. I thought it might be of comfort to anyone coping with grief this holiday season.
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Ways to Thaw, Survive and Find Hope
By Darcie D. Sims, P. D.
Brush your teeth, every morning. No matter what else happens, do that and you are on your way. Just keeping a routine is a way to counteract the craziness. It is a “responsible, adult” thing to do and is a start. Just do it. Your dentist, mother and everyone you encounter will be glad you did.
Take out the trash. Just get it out of the house. Someday you can try getting it out on the right day.
Be realistic. It will hurt, but don’t try to block bad moments. Be ready for them. Let those hurting moments come, deal with them and let them go.
Take care of yourself physically. Eat right. Exercise (or at least watch someone else). If nothing else, jog your memory.
Leave the word “ought” out of this holiday season. Work at lifting depression. Take responsibility for yourself. We cannot wait for someone else to wrap up some joy and give it to us. We have to do that for ourselves. Think of things you enjoy and give yourself a treat occasionally.
Buy a gift. Buy a gift for yourself. Wrap it, but don’t hide it! Just when you think you are going “off the deep end”, open it up and enjoy. While you are buying a gift for yourself, buy one for your loved one as well. Wrap it up and give it away to someone who might not otherwise have a gift. Pass on the love you shared together and it can never die.
Breathe. In and out, in and out. It’s that simple and that hard. Some days just breathing is all you can manage. Other days it’s a bit easier, so relax and enjoy those moments when you can remember your loved one’s life instead of focusing only on the death.
Hang the stockings; place a wreath on the grave. Do whatever feels right for you and your family.
Make a snow angel. Get outside. Catch snowflakes. Build a sand castle. Take a memory walk.
Put something that reminds you of your loved one in your pocket and every time you need a hug, just pat your pocket and recall the loving connection between you. I carry a rock with me always, to remind me of the steadiness, security and sturdiness of his love. I’ve carved the word HOPE on that rock so I won’t forget what hope is all about. Hope isn’t a place or a thing. Hope isn’t the absence of pain, or sadness or sorrow. Hope is possibility. Hope is the memory of love given and received.
Surviving really isn’t too hard. Living can be. No matter how crazy the world or out of “snyc” you feel, don’t lose the treasure of your loved one’s presence in your life. You don’t have to say good-bye. You don’t stop loving someone just because he or she died.
Claim your grief and your unique way of surviving. Do whatever it takes to remember the life of your loved one, not just the death. Each footprint is unique, each hurt is different, and each snowflake the only one ever created. Your love is real, just as is your pain. But leave the regrets behind in the slush.
Bring the joy of loving with you into this holiday season. Let its memory light your world. Our loved ones died, but we did not lose them.
Time and space become meaningless for us. The bonds between us are too strong to let death sever the ties. So light a candle and whisper a thank you for the moments you traveled together. Our arms may be empty, but the heart is full. And every time you see a snowflake or just imagine one, remember to cherish its unique design and pattern… and to cherish your unique footprint through grief.
Comments
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Teresa, thank you so much for posting this. This has made my day get better. I need to read this everyday to bring me peace. By the way, I love the pocket idea that is something that I will forward to doing. I hope this is a comfort to you as well, my dear friend. ~Milla~
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| November 2008 |
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Tuesday, 11/25
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October 2008 |
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Thursday, 7/10
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Wow, thanks for sharing! That says so much. I'm here for you if you need a shoulder.
dbain
That really hit home. Thanks for sharing!
ElizaP
thank-you for sharing this...... it really hits home. I found something in a book on being a widow: The reality is grief is forever... There is no 'getting over' the loss of a loved one, only learning how to live with it...
Sherry
SherrySS
Teresa, thank you for sharing. I am so sorry to hear that you are approaching the one year mark. I agree with the article we may never get over our losses but one day we will be able to look back on the memories we shared with them and smile again. I am still waiting on that day as well. Your friend, Milla
solostmilla