It was three months ago yesterday. How do I feel? I feel like I’ve been on a bloody battlefield, inside a ripping tidal wave, in the eye of a relentless storm, on a frightening non-stop roller coaster ride, yet here I am. There is something to be said for that. I’m still here.
People say to me “you look good” as if the outside of me is supposed to reflect something entirely morose. Am I not supposed to take care of myself so I look like I am suffering? Because I won’t do that. I will write about how I feel in my core, but you will never see it reflected up front on my face. Not truly. Why would I want to put someone through the same thing I’m going through upon my sight? I won’t. I still get up in the morning and try to be who I was every day. I stress “who I was”. I shower, dry my hair, put on my makeup and my clothes so I can feel like “her”. Looking in the mirror, I see someone I don’t entirely recognize, so I work towards finding “her”. Let me tell you about “her”.
Yesterday, she had her hair cut shorter to see if it would help her to remember. She used to wear short hair back in the day. Maybe this will help uncover what she used to be. Maybe it won’t. Perhaps she has to emerge at her own pace and no matter what I do to help guide her, she has to rise up when the time is right.
I try so hard to soothe her, but she has difficult times where there is no consoling. She contorts her face, holds her heart, bares her soul and seems like she will never be right again. I take her out for walks on the bay, and I let her have time to herself, but she still doesn’t fully understand why or how the person she held so close to her is gone. I try to explain that this is part of life, but she won’t take this as an answer. She thinks it is vastly unfair to have lost so great a friend. So great a love; the love of her life. A love story for the ages. Why him? Why now? Why? Why? Why? I do not have the answer for her.
I thought I saw a glimmer of her the other day. She was laughing and smiling with some dear “old” friends over the weekend. She emerged now and again, but held a lot in. I could sense that she was uneasy in her grief but grateful her friends were there. She and her friends were in mourning for another friend who had passed the week before. Another victim to Cancer. So they mourned, cried, laughed and had a wonderful time being there for each other. She cried as they left her driveway because the wave came crashing in just as they were driving out of sight. It happens that fast. She didn’t want the weekend to end. But “all good things come to an end” right?
She hates to think that everything happening around her on a daily basis is just a distraction from the real matter at hand. She is not one for solemness or sadness. Wearing this cloak of suffering; this weighted blanket does not suit her at all. She is a positive person with a heart she loves to share. How is it that she is now meant for sadness? She has tried to achieve happiness at every turn and now her delighted heart suffers.
She is trying so hard to find out who she is now. Yes, she gets up every morning and does the usual things one does to start their day. It feels like a lonely start for her now. She thinks “what’s the point”? Who is she now? Who really knows her now? Why has her heart been severed? Who does she have to talk about the children with? She misses the daily banter, the laughter, the meals together, walking on the bay together, hand holding and watching the birds. The hugs and goodnight kisses. She misses every minute she had with him. Every. Minute.
I want to help her pick up the pieces of her crying heart and put it back together. I want to remind her that she was one of the lucky ones; so fortunate to have him for as long as she did and that their relationship was a beautiful one. She needs to remember that she is strong, resilient and creative. She needs to know that she will find happiness again someday because she seeks it always. It won’t be the same, this happiness, but she will be content with her life someday. She will struggle with her relentless grief but will strive to achieve peace in her heart. I want to help her see herself again. She needs to know who she is becoming now. She isn’t the same person she was, but she has all of the same qualities. This cloak of despair wrapped around her and sprinkled with a dash of anguish and pain, is nothing but that; a cloak. It needs to be removed slowly and when the time is right, hung in a closet somewhere.
I will do my best to find her again. She won’t be the same. She will be stronger. She will be creative. She will be kind. She will be loving. She will see the best in others and seek to find the best in herself. She will be happy again…someday. For she is alive. There is something to be said for that. She is still here.