My first normal day
Woke up. Watched a little television. Put together my new bird cage. Went shopping. Talked to dad. Picked up something to eat. Ordered food from a restaurant. Washed my hair. Wrote a few pages of a new story I'm working on.
At 10:30 I realized that it felt normal. It didn't feel forced. It wasn't about being happy or sad.
I hadn't thought about this before, but before DH passed, I didn't spend my days asking myself if I was happy or sad. Days, months, and years passed as just normal days. Some parts of it brought happiness. Some sadness. But widowhood changed that. It was as if I was analyzing every feeling I had. Breaking apart each day into a sort of happiness scale. Rating the parts as if they were songs on American Bandstand. It's not the way most of us live, but I think most widows/widowers do. And maybe that's the problem. It's almost like we're forcing ourselves to be happy. And when we're not, we feel inadequate, and that leads to depression about the state of our lives.
I can't speak for everyone, but I found myself doing things to bring happiness as if it were something that could be ordered. I structured my day for happiness--Maybe if I shopped for a new dress. Maybe if I lost a few pounds. Maybe if I bought a new pet. And at the end of it I would still end up sad because none of this could bring my husband back.
Then today happened. A day with no expectations. A day that was not analyzed down to the molecular level. It was just a day. And at the end of it: I feel normal.
Maybe that's what it's all about.
At 10:30 I realized that it felt normal. It didn't feel forced. It wasn't about being happy or sad.
I hadn't thought about this before, but before DH passed, I didn't spend my days asking myself if I was happy or sad. Days, months, and years passed as just normal days. Some parts of it brought happiness. Some sadness. But widowhood changed that. It was as if I was analyzing every feeling I had. Breaking apart each day into a sort of happiness scale. Rating the parts as if they were songs on American Bandstand. It's not the way most of us live, but I think most widows/widowers do. And maybe that's the problem. It's almost like we're forcing ourselves to be happy. And when we're not, we feel inadequate, and that leads to depression about the state of our lives.
I can't speak for everyone, but I found myself doing things to bring happiness as if it were something that could be ordered. I structured my day for happiness--Maybe if I shopped for a new dress. Maybe if I lost a few pounds. Maybe if I bought a new pet. And at the end of it I would still end up sad because none of this could bring my husband back.
Then today happened. A day with no expectations. A day that was not analyzed down to the molecular level. It was just a day. And at the end of it: I feel normal.
Maybe that's what it's all about.
Replies
l understand this,its as if our life has got to be structured in a way and we have to do things that before were normal,we find that we have to go looking for things to do,when before we just got on with things,then people start saying or we start thinking,l have to do this.l don,t do all this now,in a way its as if we were trying to become someone else,fill our time up to stop thinking.l now do what l feel like doing,if l feel sad that day,its not a problem anymore,l go with the flow,good days bad days,they come and go,sometimes its hard to chase happiness all the time.Glad you had a good day
Alice
Glad you had a good day wishing you many more!
Donale
Excellent observations, Donale. Each morning could be a blessing or a curse - it\'s which side of the bed we choose to get up on.
I could contemplate every action, every song, every new found or misplaced item as somehow significant or symbolic. I could postpone joy in favor of sorrow. I could cease hope and opt for despair. I could rue life and prepare for its end.
But I choose to rise each morning, prepare for the day and experience what it may bring - accepting both good and bad along the way. Its my life. Its my new life. I like it.
Sounds like you like yours too. Never postpone joy - and by all means KEEP WRITING! :~)
floyd.
You know you are on the road of healing when you stop analyzing your days. I am starting to enjoy each new day as it comes and goes. Some days are better and some days no so good. Wednesday I discovered a locket that had an inscription on the back. I never knew that before but it said \"I Will Love You Forever\" and it was from my Smokye. I lost it. It was okay to lose it over something like that incident. I was sad all day but I was lucky to have planned to go out with my friend Carol that day. It was just what the doctor ordered. I had a crush on a guy named Bill. Yesterday I finally figured something about him. Either his is really into himself or he is gay. I never met a guy that has his hair just so, dresses just right, stands so tall and hangs around guys all the time. Carol and I call him a lame duck. If Bill was ever interested in me, the interest went down the tubes. I don\'t care at this point. Yester I was out with Don. I met a guy named Mike. He is nice. He is the first person out of all the people that I have met since Smokey died to sincerely ask me how I was doing. It made such a big difference inside of me. It is what I want. I want someone to ask me how I am doing and not just small talk over something stupid. It was really nice for a chance. I am not into him but it was nice to be asked how I was doing for a change. It was like a breath of fresh air. Last night when I went to bed and had a horrible time going to sleep I was talking to Smokey and finally said \"Smokey, I have to let you go and can\'t keep holding on to you since you have died.\" I was holding on to him. He always made me fee loved, special, safe and secure. These are all great things for me. No mad has ever made me feel that way before I met Smokey. He was the love of my life but I have to let him go as he died. I don\'t have a relationship with him anymore but I will always keep him in my heart along with my late-mom, dad, step-dad, grandparents, aunt, uncles, etc. My heart is full of people that have died. I keep them in my heart, mind and soul. They go with me wherever I am. All the best to you from Diane
I actually wrote at letter to Bradley. My counselor suggested that we sit down and write what we were angry about and all of our thoughts and feelings up to that point. That helped me move my focus from Bradley to something else. I moved it to my children and my life. I am no longer focused on the life that I had with Bradley. I too will keep the memories of him and my other family members and will look forward to the day where we will be reunited with them.
After shifting the focus, I found that the days became easier to handle and more pleasant for people to be around me and me around them. I no longer \"bit the heads off\" of anyone who would just say \"How ya doing?\" I realize there are people out there who still walk on egg shells around me, but I can\'t help that they don\'t understand and probably never will until they are in my shoes.
I have taken on the philosophy that is in Tim McGraw\'s song \"Live like You were Dying\". It is my life, I am in charge, and yes, I am going to sky dive and climb mountains. Will probably leave the bull in the pen though.
Hugs to you~ Shauna