I am writing this in a notebook that’s been laying on my dresser for the past several months. (Funny how it’s my dresser now…it used to be ours.) The first page…the only one with writing on it until now…is a penciled schedule of pain meds that we were giving Laura just days before she died. I can’t exactly say why I kept it…that page…in tact and alone. Maybe because it reminds me that Laura was in fact a part of this world.
That must sound stupid because of course she was here…but it’s strange and unnerving how little I remember of our time together. It’s probably a part of the grieving process and I could buy a book on it so I know if that’s true or not…but what’s the point? She is gone and I am left behind with the remnants of a paper monument that marks the end of her life.
This notebook is a clean reminder of how fragile life is…a testament to the brevity of our time here. Maybe we don’t understand that until we’ve suffered a great loss and are left kneeling…and struggling to get back up.
I know what Thirty Seconds is about now: it’s a grief journal. It’s me…out in the open…sharing my discoveries…hoping it will help all of us appreciate the life we have and live it with less fear. I’m afraid alright…but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that keep me in this spot. A guy sure can learn a lot from a blank notebook…
Andy:
Been there…or is it, (sometimes) stil there.
Shortly after Steve died, a grocery receipt fell out of one of Steve’s books that I was paging through. On the back of the receipt he had written, “CALL OF FAITH: Step out into the unknown.” I’m pretty sure it wasn’t in reference to the two bottles of water that he bought for $1.38 at SuperSaver in Meno. Falls on July 13, 1994.
UnKNOWN is a word we both – unfortunately – KNOW all to well. Every once and a while, in the strangest places, I find reminders of what was once KNOWN that eases my fear of the unKNOWN that will always be ahead.
Take care…
Amy
You know all too well what’s happening here, Amy. Thanks for sharing that story. I don’t know if the unknown scares me too much. I have always been forward thinking. I’m more about noticing how fear messes with us…so many of us…and holds us back. Life is short…we know that…yet we don’t move in the direction we want because of something…which I think might be fear. Not sure yet…but I believe it will come out as I continue down this path that you know too well.
Take care…and thank you again.
I found several pads and books with my first wife Ellen’s writing after she passed. I still treasure her marked up bible (she loved to write in it) and celebrate her life when I read some of the things she wrote. She was an amazing woman and I love to reminisce the jou of knowing her.
One of the best things I heard about grieving was from the chaplain that led the grief workshop that I attended 15 years ago. He urged us to step into our pain and share it with others. I think that we either step into pain the way you have been doing or we find ourselves circling around it years later.
Hang in there Andy and know that there are others who have traveled this road and are cheering you on.
All the Best, Bob
Thank you, Bob. I know you’ve been here…like so many others. Sometimes I feel like such a whiner because I know people have it so much worse. That’s partially why I haven’t fully shared the grief thing. Still…I’m wondering if and when people are here they might find some good in it. I sincerely believe there is something great to come out of this…even though I’ll celebrate it with that little hole in my chest.
I think that many of us have been trained to be stoic in the midst of heartbreak.. a stoic persons whining is vulnerable persons intimate sharing.. I go with sharing because I think healing comes from vulnerability.. stoicism just constipates us emotionally.
{hug}
You cutey:)
I thank all of you for sharing your grieving experiences. Andy, though I know little about you (simply through the store) and had few though always precious moments with Laura (at the clinic), I am truly blessed to have made this connection. I, too, suffered a loss this year. Though not a spouse, a parent. Of couse, any loss takes us through the “process” we call grieving. I am grateful to have heard the advice of “sharing” as I often allow my busy mind alone to work through the millions of thoughts it has at each moment. Your comment of “maybe we don’t understand that until we have suffered a great loss and are left kneeling…” reminded me immediately of a sign I have hanging in the entry way of my house that says “Prayer…when life gets too hard to stand…kneel”. Maybe we don’t have to struggle to get back up if we just stay down kneeling and pray.
Hi Paula,
How nice of you to read and comment. I appreciate that…and I think you’re right…sharing these things allow us to work through the millions of thoughts we have each moment. Thank you so much…
Andy,
I’m sure that it’s not true that you don’t recall life with Laura, it’s just that your mind is occupied with the final days with her. I know that you remember A LOT of the good (Think children being born, laughter and past holidays). You just need to bring those things to the front leave the pain of losing her behind. There is joy in every day life.
Thanks Joni…I do of course remember a lot…but it’s sketchy and it bugs me. Normally I’d ask her about the details of this or that. Not big things…little things…and now that she’s not here…it’s almost like she wasn’t here at all. I believe that will change over time…but until then…it’s a bit strange. Not sure I’m explaining it well. (Contrast with the feeling I have that at any moment she’ll walk downstairs. That’s a weird one too…)
Thank you again for reading and the advice. I appreciate it…
Thanks for sharing “The Notebook” with us. All of us that have lost a spouse or loved one has been where you were at this point. Terry started a journal when he was first diagnosed with lung cancer in Nov.2007. He wrote all of 2 pages but those pages speak volumes. I promised I would never read his journal until he was no longer here. After he passed away it was the first thing I wanted to see. It gave me a connection to him, his writing, his words, his thoughts and fears. It does sometimes seem like it was sooo long ago that they were here, and then sometimes seems like yesterday. Sometimes I feel like someone is playing head games with me. Do you ever feel this way? Continue to challenge our minds. I need that!
Irene,
I doubt that feeling will ever go away though I’m only 5 months into this thing. It does seem sooo long ago…almost as if it never happened. Those times are easier to take for some reason. When it feels like yesterday…well…there’s a whole new level there.
As far as feeling if someone is playing head games…jeez I know that someone is me. Sometimes I won’t let myself be sad…when sometimes that’s what I think I should do. (Like tonight actually.) So…yes…I absolutely do feel that way.
As long as you want to read/see what I do I’ll keep writing and challenging your mind. Thank you for being here. We’ll keep getting through, right? Got to. Could be worse…I know that. Let’s remember that too…
Have a great night, Irene.