Friday, August 26, 2016

Friends and Your Grief

When you go through grief, everyone says they are sorry. And they are. Their hearts break for you.  They say other things too, all designed to show their love and compassion. They may not know it, but every time a friend reaches out it is like someone tossing you a life raft, a float to keep your head above water.  There are hugs, calls, meals, flowers and so many ways they say "I care about you."  It all helps.

Even though all of these touches meant the world to me, I kept each of them at arm's length. "What is wrong with me?", I sometimes thought. Why do I take just enough of their love to keep me sane instead of opening my arms and bringing them into my grief?  They want to share my burden. Why don't I let them?"  It is because "fresh grief", at least for me, is solitary .....and draining. There is no energy left to share with others.  And, somehow it is the last intimate experience I will have with my husband. Yes, grief is intimate and it is almost sacred. 

As days have progressed into months, it is now less stinging most of the time although it is still unreal.  It is more my choice now where I let my thoughts go, more so than when I was swept up and into the grip of grief.  It is now less raw and less intimate.

I came across this poem and I think it speaks the thoughts of my friends when they so wanted to help. I am so grateful for them and I need them.


Saturday, August 20, 2016

Grief Happens

My last post described the pain, expectations, joy, ups and downs that define the process of waiting.  I waited a long time, more than a month while my love slept in a world I could not reach. I was hopeful as long as I could be. In the end, with "Code Blue" ringing in my ears I had to let go. It took me that long to "turn it over" and ask for God's will to be done. Even though my mind always knew to ask for "His" highest and best to prevail, I was so afraid, and held on tightly to having it my way until it was completely  futile to do so. The "code blue" procession stopped at my husband's door, literally.

I dropped to the floor. No cares for my dignity, as my heart split wide open.

The waiting was over and it did not end well. Now two months later, I am on my feet again and finding my way through this huge transition. I may write a bit about it here from time to time, or I may not. This is just where I am today....sharing the end of the waiting.