Closing Time

     It is about time to wrap this up. It has been 20 months since my sweetheart left this life, and while this has been a profoundly miserable twenty months, on the heels of a somewhat miserable 3 years (the length of time Susan was ill), I have learned a great deal about myself, and about the grief process.

     I should say first and foremost, that my friends and family have been integral to my being able to get through this time, and included in that group is my wonderful group of customers.  They have unfailingly been there for me, and I cannot say thank you loud enough or long enough.

     If someone were to ask me for advice on how to get through a trauma like this, I would have to say that the best strategy is to get up each day, muscle your way through the day, watching for moments when you can actually smile, lock each of those in, and go to bed, get up the next day and repeat. Do it often enough and it becomes habit.  In addition, be open. Be open to what happens. Be open to the people who love you, and whom you love.  As much as you may want to, don't close your heart and don't close your mind.

     It is OK to be miserable. It is OK to be angry, to be resentful of what has happened. Too often we fall victim to the 'tyranny of positive thinking'.  I am a realist.  But do remember that emotions are like the passing clouds on a summer day. They come and go. They pass through making way for something else.  Miserable one moment, sad and crying the next, missing your loved one the next, laughing the next, solving a problem the next; that is how it has been for me.

     One of the most difficult things to master during this period is the idea that you CAN give yourself permission for many things. You have been used to consulting with your beloved for however long, and the idea that you can give yourself permission is a novel one. It is hard, but do it. Practice.

     I have learned that I absolutely detest living alone. Of the 44 years of my 'adult' life, I have been in relationship the best part of 39 of those years. I miss Susan to core of my being. We were so much a part of each other, and silence and solitude are a poor substitute for my partner who on her worst days was kind, loving, generous, funny, smart and a huge source of light, in addition to being incredibly good company. But just because she is gone and I am alone does not mean that I/we cannot have some enjoyment in our lives.

     I suspect that for each of us who has lost a beloved spouse, a part of us does not want to heal, does not want things to be 'OK'. I have seen evidence of that in myself. At some level we feel that if we heal, if we make things OK, we are somehow disrespecting the memory of our departed loved one. Just remember, we're here and they are not. Their problems are solved. Yours are not. Allow yourself the latitude to feel OK. You will likely always miss your beloved, as I am sure I will. But you do not have to make that the coat rack upon which you hang your entire life.

     Some months ago, I developed some significant shortness of breath.  Thinking the problem was related to my asthma, I sought help from my primary care physician. She prescribed some strong medicine, but the problem only grew worse. She recommended I see my cardiologist, and lo and behold, the problem turned out to be a significant case of ventricular arrhythmia, which caused my heart to function very inefficiently, resulting in shortness of breath.  I am to have a cardiac procedure at the end of September to hopefully resolve the situation.  But having had to face this situation more or less alone (at least psychologically) has been a new experience. I have found some strength I did not know I had. And once again my friends and family have been there for me. My heart has been broken physically and also metaphorically, but I think I will be fine.

     I am not 100% sure what the future will look like, but once the heart thing is resolved, I will begin to move forward. And be OK.

     One more thought to share with you about the grieving process. I have learned to appreciate what I will call 'rich emotional experiences'. When you allow yourself to feel your emotions, you can learn a great deal about yourself. And in the past couple of years there have been, as I am sure you can imagine, a wealth of these moments. Feel them, Don't stuff them. It's not healthy.

     I will be starting a new blog, perhaps featuring writing (a putative second career?) in the form of poetry, short stories and essays.  I'll keep you posted.

     Be at peace everyone. All my love....

MPC:08-02-2016