It has been 1,460 days or four years since Paul has passed. He left this world on November 12, 2019 in my very presence. We were alone together in our bedroom and I held his hand as he took his last breath my face nearest to his. I am his wife, best friend, lover, partner, person, companion, work partner, mother and step mother of his children, grandmother to their children and lastly I was his caregiver, until that last laboring breath and then…devastation. Left with a life time of dreams unfinished. I am still grieving, but four years later, I am…healing.
I can’t stop thinking of how the early days of his passing played out. Surrounded by myself and our children as we held vigil during hospice, we gave him the most loving care. He was alert until the very end. We spoke lovingly around 12:30am and then at around 4:30am I awoke to labored breathing never to hear him speak or sing again. Then, the loss so intense and profound that I walked around in a haze for a long, long time. As did our family. In fact, it is only recently that I am seeing more clearly. I had no choice in the matter at hand. That was my real struggle. I was helpless to save him. I really tried. I did everything in my power but realize now that I was powerless. It was futile. Four years have passed and I must continue to move forward. I am finally at the point where I see that this is how my own existence on this earth must play out. I see that I am a soloist now and let’s just say our duet is on hiatus until we sing together again. Unraveling the many years of love we shared will take my lifetime, but, I am gently moving on and find myself strengthening in spirit every day.
The reality never really sets in, does it, because how can it be true? How can the person I shared wonderful dreams with, our children, grandchildren, a career, extended family, meals, coffee on our porch, trips, friendships, and just about everything, music, be gone? How? It truly is unfathomable. It doesn’t make sense and it never will. I am left to carry on in a life without him and it was not part of our plan. Something we joked about and pushed off as if it was never ever going to happen. “You have to go first”, or “I’m not leaving without you” or “if you die, I’m coming with you.” The sad thing is that I really wanted to go with him in the beginning. Came dangerously close. I wanted to check out of this new life because my grief was so visceral I didn’t think I could bear another second in such unspeakable pain. I felt left alone and left out of this awkward, horrible, surreal, nonsensical existence without a life vest. Set adrift. It was a place so dark to visit that I physically couldn’t breathe upon arrival. Yet, visit the dark hole I did. Day after day after day. I had been blindly moving blissfully on through that amazing journey of ours thinking we were untouchable because our love was so, so vast that it couldn’t be penetrated by anything destroyable. But it has happened, hasn’t it? I am still here and Paul is gone.
Let’s face it. We are all in denial. We think that because we have carved out a particular path for ourselves that we have control of said path. I know now that having control of our existence is highly improbable. Impossible! We just don’t have that complete ability. Oh, we want to, but we can’t because life is fickle, awkward, beautiful, unpredictable, joyous, devastating and glorious. I could throw in a million adjectives to describe this thing we are all in together, and they would all apply. Life is all of it; all of the words we have installed in every language to try and make sense of what “this” all is.
So I am sitting here today, four years later, reflecting on the past and realizing that I’ve come a long way from those early days of my grief. Time…yes, time…does heal, but not all wounds. This wound I harbor in my heart is too vast and cannot be mended completely. I think what has happened now is that my heart has been wrapped in a cocoon of wonderful experiences which include love, family, friendship, humor, fur babies, travel, theatrical endeavors, music, a few cosmos here and there and lovely sumptuous feasts. Slowly these new experiences in my life without Paul being physically here to share somehow have cushioned the blow over time. Soft and gentle experiences which remind me that I am still alive and vivid boisterous adventures that remind me that I am a bit wild and fun fill my life now. At first, I didn’t think any of this was possible for me anymore, but I have experienced all of the emotions I house within my soul at one time or another since his passing. I thought grief was the only emotion that I would ever feel again, but it is just not true. I am able to see more clearly beyond my grief and that makes me think that I will be able to thrive without Paul. I will thrive because of Paul. I will thrive because I have love in my heart and all around me keeping me alive. Paul is right here next to me. I know he is. His love is inside me and is untouchable. His warmth, good humor, gentleness and love carries me every day. His lessons in life…which I call his “Paulisms” still make me smile. I long for his touch and want so much to look in his eyes again, but I know now that I will have to wait. I am under the careful watch of his direction now. He is conducting a wonderful choral piece, with all of the light and dark tempos, amazing dynamics both stunning and difficult from where ever he is. His arms are waving wildly as only he can do and he is signaling to each of us to bring us into his concert when our time is ready. He is watching over all of us, his family, his friends, and his former students, in ways we can’t see, but just know. I have always respected his wisdom, his gentleness, his beauty and I will always. I believe there are very definitive signs I have experienced which tell me he is here. My heart is protected now and it is also opening and blossoming in this new life. As I’ve been told recently, there is no opposite or “other side” to grief. It stands alone and it is something that one has to learn to live with and carry for all of their days. I believe this is true. We are all resilient and as our cells divide inside our bodies continuously, we change with every single day. I believe we can carry the weight of our loss and are still able to thrive because we had that love as part of our individual experience. It is because of that love…we are who we are. We must take it with us but not dwell on the last.
To those of you who may read this and may be experiencing the pain of great loss, please do not let grief destroy your heart. Find the wonderful and positive people and things in your life that will soothe and enhance your journey. Shed those things that chain you down in the depths. You deserve to live on in the best way possible. Live your life! Find your people! Love them! Be loved! Enjoy the things you always have enjoyed and find new ways to fill your passions. Dream! You are a living breathing beautiful being all by yourself. Discover who you are now! Let your past be the foundation that you hold dear and take it along as a spring board into your future. Go ahead and fly! Do not be afraid to go it alone. You have your own set of magnificent wings. Spread them out in all their glory and leap! YOU ARE ENOUGH!
Cancer Wife 