Wednesday, August 21, 2013

How it feels to be grieving

I honestly did not think I would be grieving the death of my husband at this stage in life. It is a very emotional and trying time for me. In a single day, I could be doing several chores, truly focused on them, and suddenly a thought would interfere, pulling me down and I resort to an episode of intense crying. It doesn't take much for me to enter a "weeping widow" phase.

How did this ever happen? How could a loved one, who I thought would be around for another twenty, thirty years, just up and die? It's a mystery to me. I wake up asking myself, "how could this be?" I go through the house, looking, touching his clothing, books, papers and memories would just wash over me like a tidal wave. I pour over the cards that we wrote to each other over the years. Me being the poet, I would write tons of spontaneous love poems to him, and he being the cautious researcher, would sit and write a draft before he wrote each card. He was so loveable, so cuddly, so approachable.

Memories that come in the middle of the night -
I used to tell Tony that I loved his laughter, it was so musical and made me feel good all over.
He had a special way of knowing I was in the room even before he saw me and would smile and say something.
Sometimes he would whistle a tune, and I'd be thinking of the same song at the same time.
He made sure I didn't lift anything heavy and would take care of carrying the groceries.
He always loved my cooking, and once in awhile if I felt like I needed a break, he didn't hesitate to treat us out to dinner.
Holding hands was something that we always did, no matter where.

My son and I visit my husband at the cemetery weekly. We burn incense, say some prayers, and talk to him, like we used to. We tell him what we've been doing, and in the end of our session together, tell him we love him.

The loss of my husband is like losing a part of myself. We had become so intertwined, that even now, when I think about things, I feel as if he is thinking along with me. I often hear his words in my mind, as if he were here, talking to me his thoughts. Sometimes I turn to my son to have a discussion, and it falls flat, and I realize that it is not the same. But I am extremely grateful that I have my son by my side. Even though he is young, he is very reliable and good. I am blessed.

I have filled my days with many activities and this really helps with the suffering and pain. I focus on others, an outward approach rather than inward. If I focus too much inwardly, then I end up wallowing in the pain and it really doesn't go anywhere. I cannot bring him back to me. I cannot. I have to focus on myself and my son, and our future together. For that is all I have.
We are planning a visit to a monastery before school starts. It is the same monastery I visited before I married. Although it has been many years, now it is time to revisit it.
God bless.

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