As some of you have noticed, I have not written in awhile. Grief reared it's ugly head. Grief is a funny thing. Well not really funny, but it sure does not stop after a short time…you know what is said to those who are grieving…”give it time, this will get easier.” Like anything else that haunts the soul, you think you are on solid ground one minute and then boom—-you fall down and for a moment do not want to get up.
That is where I was this Christmas season. The first year after Pat passed away, I had expectations of these kind of emotions and reactions to his loss. They came. They were felt. Expected. The second year I kept busy enough to not have time to think. Holidays came and went and I kept running! But this year, even though the summer found me going and going, this fall things came to a standstill and I collapsed.
I did not expect this Christmas to be anything but a regular celebration as experienced in the past. Some are good and some are….well they are tradition and that is good. This year, for what ever reason, found me being slapped by my emotions every time I turned around. I would pick up something and I would fill up with tears. I would set something out, and my throat began to burn with me trying to stifle a cry.
That is when I stopped. Everything. I pulled in. I wallowed. I searched for an answer. What really got me pissed was realizing that at my age, I thought I would be better at handling life situations…but I wasn’t. Normally I am a very upbeat person. Positive. Jovial. Happy-go-lucky. A can-do personality. Normally. But not these past couple of months. There is a new normal in town…look out! And I hate it!
Reality set in. He is never coming back. Life will never be like it was. I look in the mirror and find myself saying, “it’s just me kid.” I don’t like it one bit!
It has come to me that only I can change the way I approach life in this new realm of being. I am not a part of anything now. But I realized as I thought through all of this that I can be. I just have to create it.
The week between Christmas and New Year found me alone and very lonely. No one called. No one came over…..wait. No one came because I did not invite anyone. ME! I need to open my door and let life in instead of wallowing in the idea that I wish my family and friends would reach out to me.
Yes sir….it is all up to me. A high school classmate of mine visited me for a short stop over this summer and described the “me” during my school days as “she went through school trying to disappear.”
He was right. I could not let people into my life. Too many secrets. So I went through school with my head down and worked every chance I could. It was not until I met Pat a year after I graduated high school that life began for me. And in that life, I was surrounded by a new family and later children, whose existence drew me out, got me involved, and without thought or considerations I kept our door open to the world and invited everyone in.
Then Pat got sick. Not for a short while, but years. And the friends that once surrounded us slowly drifted off and once again in my life, I found myself isolated. A comfortable place for me. Familiar but lonely. Then Pat died. As the fog of grief lifted, and those that reached out early slowly drifted back into their own life, I found myself dealing with this unwanted loneliness….and I am not afraid to say I don't want to be this way. It was another life lesson. I recognize that it is up to me to break the isolation…to move on…to develop a new way of living. Rather than sit here as I did between Christmas and the New Year, alone….no one calling…no invitations…I recognized that I have to reach out—to call—to invite into my life like I did when Pat and I stood together.
Yes grief is an uncomfortable place to be. It is not linear, and it is a growing process…no matter the age. I’m smart enough to know what to do…I just have to let my heart catch up so I can enjoy the days again.
So you will find the door open….and a new me learning how to dance again!
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