Good Day Beloved,
Well, the second year of widowhood is coming to a close soon. In some regards it feels like it should be much longer than that and at the same time I still feel like I will hear her calling my name any moment now.
When I first started writing about this “grief journey” I said that I had heard that the first year you are mostly just numb and in shock, the second year you really start to grieve and the third year, things have the chance to start getting better. I am here to report that so far I am a believer in this saying or thought or idea, whatever it is.
This second year has been horrible, HORRIBLE, I say. The shock and disbelief are 99 percent gone and the reality of going to bed alone is something I struggle with every night. This tax season it will be truly “just me.” No more residuals from her to deal with at all. I am currently waiting for yet another fairly significant surgery and it is hitting hard that I am all by myself for this one.
Last year when I had my shoulder replaced it wasn’t this hard as I remember. The fact that this time around is a knee replacement probably packs more punch too. Getting up with a shoulder that is momentarily out of service is different than getting up with a knee that is momentarily out of service. I keep telling myself that the pain after surgery cannot be worse than what I have already been dealing with. I better be right. Thankfully, it is not my driving leg.
The hardest part as with anything is asking for help. I have decided to go into serious isolation before surgery. So, if you are not a medical professional dealing with some aspect of my surgery, you are not getting anywhere near my breathing space. This means I get to practice asking for help because I will need someone to get a few live crickets from the pet store a couple times before I am again able to do it myself. I bet ABBA is chuckling at that one.
He knows how I dislike asking for help. Anyway, back to the topic du jour. Grief journey year two. To any one out there going through this, oh sweet, I am sorry. I know everyone’s journey is specific to them and you are as tired of the word journey as I am. I empathize dear heart. There is no getting around it. Grief sucks rocks, big time.
I have been through a lot of loss in my life. None of it compares to this time around. Today happens to be one of those days when it is a struggle just to breathe. You ever feel like there is a wide band around your chest and with every exhale it gets tighter making the next breath harder than the last? I do so hope that when the third year is underway this band will start to lose some of its grip on my heart.
Beloved, it only makes sense that when you love someone with a fierce love the loss is going to be fierce as well. Beloved, if you are grieving, know you are not alone and keep breathing. Keep breathing, it will change and slowly become more manageable.
Beloved, here is a bearhug, a kiss on the check, and an I love you in your ear.
Keep breathing.
Beloved, blessed be…
Mona LangmaackMelin
Mona's Monday Musings 