My Contrary Heart
Preface: I have so many mixed emotions that I don't know where or how to settle. One or two would be a relief. The following is an attempt to sort.
*Sick, Dying, Gone, Goodbye (Me vs. Them)
Me, One month. I have kept It together long enough to get through two Services from Hospice from Hospital. I have comforted, reassured, explained, guarded, focused, dutifully received, and hosted.
I am ready to cut off the world, to bleed alone. Reclaim my time to reflect.
They, now. Pityful glances look like twisted masks. They ask for a report and hope for good news to sooth their worries. So they can get back to their lives. Thankful its not them who is cut, bleeding, alone.
*I don't know myself, him, anymore. (Him vs. Me)
I want to rage where I once had peace. I want to push away those I once drew close. Who am I? Who am I?
A stranger stares back at me from his photograph.
I read his poems, letters, journals. hanging on the scraps of paper in conversation my greedy heart devoures every word. Mine. Mine. I read with envy the synergy in the relationships he had before me. Not mine. Not mine. Who was he? Who was he?
*Occupying space. (Now vs. When)
I see him where his pillow lies on the bed. I see him in the office to do list. His shadow still casts on the kitchen floor. Too soon. Not ready.
The house is theirs. Not mine.
His things will be packed the reminders hidden from sight. Too soon. Not ready. Whose rooms will console my heart. Not mine.
*Friends. (His vs. Mine)
I seek to meet with him once more through the memories of his friends. I strive to bridge the gap he left between us, reaching farther than ever before! Their offering overwhelms, comes on like a flood then dwindles.
Leaving me desperate, lonely. Stunned with the realization that no one shared our mind, that is: mine, without him, now.
So alone. My friends clamour to prop me, distract me, content me. I can't. It wont work. More time. Please wait. I can't be what I once was. I receed.
*Sick, Dying, Gone, Goodbye (Me vs. Them)
Me, One month. I have kept It together long enough to get through two Services from Hospice from Hospital. I have comforted, reassured, explained, guarded, focused, dutifully received, and hosted.
I am ready to cut off the world, to bleed alone. Reclaim my time to reflect.
They, now. Pityful glances look like twisted masks. They ask for a report and hope for good news to sooth their worries. So they can get back to their lives. Thankful its not them who is cut, bleeding, alone.
*I don't know myself, him, anymore. (Him vs. Me)
I want to rage where I once had peace. I want to push away those I once drew close. Who am I? Who am I?
A stranger stares back at me from his photograph.
I read his poems, letters, journals. hanging on the scraps of paper in conversation my greedy heart devoures every word. Mine. Mine. I read with envy the synergy in the relationships he had before me. Not mine. Not mine. Who was he? Who was he?
*Occupying space. (Now vs. When)
I see him where his pillow lies on the bed. I see him in the office to do list. His shadow still casts on the kitchen floor. Too soon. Not ready.
The house is theirs. Not mine.
His things will be packed the reminders hidden from sight. Too soon. Not ready. Whose rooms will console my heart. Not mine.
*Friends. (His vs. Mine)
I seek to meet with him once more through the memories of his friends. I strive to bridge the gap he left between us, reaching farther than ever before! Their offering overwhelms, comes on like a flood then dwindles.
Leaving me desperate, lonely. Stunned with the realization that no one shared our mind, that is: mine, without him, now.
So alone. My friends clamour to prop me, distract me, content me. I can't. It wont work. More time. Please wait. I can't be what I once was. I receed.
Replies
Oh I am so moved by your heartfelt expression, beautifully written. I just read this after posting a journel entry about mixed emotions. I was crying for myself when I wrote it, now I read yours and my heart breaks for you so early in this journey. I am not crying for myself now but for you. If anything our loss proves to be the greater teacher of empathy. At least at 11 months I have found some peace between the hugh waves of grief that are hitting you right now. My heart goes out to you, so very sorry for your loss and pain. Hug, Donna
So well articulated and lovely writing. Writing may save you on this journey. I am well beyond you--15 months ago I lost my partner. I recognize the potent mix of emotion and pain. I spent a good 10 or 11 months sorting it all out. It finally started falling into place and became more \"manageable.\" My goal was and still is to live my life to the fullest. I\'m still working on it.
I\'m so very sorry for the loss of your husband. You can find empathy and solace here. Hugs, Amy
My heart aches for you as you try to comprehend the loss of your husband, and your life now without him. I know your grief is magnified by the holidays; all of us will probably be glad when they are over. This is a good place to find encouragement and support.
Blessings - Doye
Thank you all. It is nice to be able to share with people who have shared this pain. The darker side of these emotions scare people who don\'t and can\'t understand beccause they lake the experience to compare it with. Many friends try and empathize but who can imagine the depth? If these spiritual wounds were visable they would be deadly. Who could walk around burning, a hole in your center, bleeding? But, the immortal spirit lives on praying for strength. These are the times when the soul\'s divisions of flesh and spirit are so expressly felt.