Letting the tears flow

I started a blog post yesterday that would have had a completely different focus than the one I need to write today. I felt really good. I got that job I wanted! I've accomplished some things on my to-do list. I felt positive about my future. I even put up my Christmas tree.

And then today arrived and the tears will not stop. So many triggers. I could easily have just not posted anything today, but then that wouldn't be true to myself or to the other widows who share this journey with me. I know this is normal. I've written many posts of encouragement to others about this. The roller coaster of grief. Feel what you feel. Live it. Breathe it. And it will heal you.

So I have taken my own advice and spent the day with my tears. Big, wallowing, sobbing, ugly tears.  Tears for Vern ... for his suffering ... for how much I miss him ... how much I love him ... for the loss of the dreams we had for our future ... for the loss of my joy in the holidays ... for my aloneness ... for the fears I have of my own future.

While I was writing this post my new boss actually sent me a wonderful text message. It reminded me that I am truly blessed. Tomorrow is a new day. My first full day at the new job. I know I will awake feeling better, ready to move into whatever the future holds for me, carrying Vern in my heart.

P.S.   I changed the tv channel to Andrea Bocelli's PBS special and what song does he choose to sing at that exact moment?  "More" - the song sung at our wedding.  One final grief burst before turning in. Bring on Monday.

It's just emotion ....

... and mine have been all over the map lately.  "In the words of a broken heart, it's just emotion that's taking me over ...."  I heard that Bee Gees song today and it fit, even though I know the lyrics have nothing to do with widow grief.

Highs and lows. Tears and laughter. Ups and downs. Joy and sorrow.  Just emotions ....

Actually, I've been feeling pretty good lately. Work is good, Jeremy is doing really well, and I hit the 9 month mark on June 22 and didn't fall apart. I owe my former co-worker, Vince, for getting me through that date. He called that morning and invited me to join him for the 5th anniversary show of Phantom of the Opera at The Venetian. It was wonderful - beautiful voices and a simply amazing theater - and it was so nice to catch up with Vince.

But then the weekend hits and I still can't get myself out of the house. During my work week I feel pretty positive about doing some things, but then I just cannot force myself out that door unless I absolutely have to. I can create lists of things to do, places to go, but the weekend hits and I plop myself in Vern's recliner and pull up my laptop. I'm comfortable. It feels good. It's comforting. And I'm ok with it ... until Sunday evening.  Then I start beating myself up about it.  So I'll just keep on trying again next weekend, and the next....

I did finally get Vern's Mustang running. It and the wheelchair van have been sitting out in the driveway for months; the batteries died long ago. It was a bit of a fiasco with AAA and finding a repair shop that would recharge the battery, but ended up being worth the couple of hours it took. I wasn't sure how I'd feel getting into his car, but it was ok.  I'm sure he's pleased I finally took care of this. Unfortunately, the van is still not running (that's too long a story to get into here). I'll try getting that one on the road next weekend. I do really hate having to do all of this stuff alone.

I spend a lot of time in Widowed Village. I need it. They 'get' me there. They understand what I'm feeling and experiencing because they're feeling and experiencing it, too. I can help others there when they need it ... and they are there for me when I need it.  I've made some wonderful friends, people I really care about, and will meet some of them next month at Camp Widow in San Diego. And I'm even planning a trip to Calgary next July to meet up with my very special Canadian Widville friend. We'll do the Stampede and visit Banff and Lake Louise. We may even do a trip to DC together before that. We have a really special connection that I am so very grateful for. So that's a really good thing for me.

But my emotions are lying just under the surface and it doesn't take much to set me off.  I miss Vern and the life we had.  I hurt more for others.  There's been another tragic death at work, a dear friend's husband has entered hospice, a precious little grandson of an MM caregiver is in very critical condition this evening.  And the tears come.  I tried to attend the funeral of my co-worker on Saturday, but just couldn't. It was at the same funeral home Vern was at.  Watching the fireworks tonight brought tears.  The news of little Isaac this evening brought me to my knees.

"And where are you now,
Now that I need you,
Tears on my pillow,
Wherever you go,
I'll cry me a river
That leads to your ocean
You´ll never see me fall apart"

I wasn't done loving him yet ....

Maybe I was getting a little arrogant. Last week was so very good - I enjoyed meals with friends, had a fabulous time at the concert, work was good and I felt that I had made it over a huge hurdle. Vern is always in my thoughts but I wasn’t feeling quite as sad … I was able to be fully supportive of others who were grieving … I enjoyed normal conversations … I no longer had to push my true feelings aside. It felt really good.

… and then this week arrived. It seemed everywhere I turned something brought me to tears. A song, an innocent comment from someone, something I read, a memory, yet another Father’s Day ad on TV, even my Blackberry did it to me!  Good grief!  Well, maybe not so good. 

I guess this was just a reminder that my grief journey isn’t anywhere close to being over. How foolish of me to even consider that it was. It will be filled with ebbs and flows, ups and downs, good days/weeks and bad.  And that’s ok. When the tears come I’m comfortable in just letting them flow. These emotions need to come out … they’re cathartic … part of the process. My life has changed dramatically. 41 years as Vern & Dianne. That’s gone now. I’m alone and it will be 9 months next week.

Some widows have said that those of us who are older and had many years with our loves are luckier, that our grief isn’t as big as theirs, that we will heal faster. I do not agree. I would never say my grief is worse … I am so very strongly against making any comparisons when it comes to grieving. Our marriages were unique, our losses were unique, as is our grieving and healing. There’s nothing good or lucky in this for any of us. 

One of my tear triggers this week was a line from an old Grey’s Anatomy show that someone shared online: “I wasn’t done loving him yet.”  Wow.  So true - whether you had 4 months or 41 years.

My evening with Paul

It's been a good couple of days. There are still tears - but they aren't tears of despair. They are tears of missing Vern and I know those will be with me forever. I accept that.

There is a sacredness to tears.
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are messengers of overwhelming grief...
and unspeakable love.

~Washington Irving

Friday night was spent with Paul ... Paul McCartney, that is!  What a wonderful evening that was; such a personal concert, like he was just up there singing to a bunch of his friends. Some special memories came with some of the songs - "And I love her" and "Let it be" brought some tears. We had a conversation-packed dinner first and really great seats for the concert. Such a nice evening with my good friend, Deb.

I met my caregiver friend/co-worker for breakfast again this morning. I always enjoy my time with Linda - we have such good conversations - and it was a nice start to my Saturday. Spent a little time pulling weeds in the front yard and chatting with a neighbor. Also spent time watching a couple of movies today. Cried over The Lovely Bones and then just had to (try to) watch 2001: A Space Odyssey.  I still don't get it, but Vern loved that movie. That was the first movie Vern & I saw at the drive-in back in 1969 ... and I fell asleep during  most of it. Amazing that he stayed interested in me after that. Whenever he'd notice it was playing on TV he'd make a comment that I wouldn't have any trouble falling asleep that night. And, yes, I did doze off during it today. I'll bet he was smiling.