A New Direction

INITIATION

In some cultures, traumatic events are viewed as an initiation, seen as an opportunity to redefine oneself and take life in a new direction.  The traumatic event can be a critical illness, the death of a loved one, a divorce or betrayal.  I learned about this way of thinking when I was recuperating from heart and lung surgery to deal with a tumor in my heart in 1999, surgery that saved my life.  After months of physical therapy and other kinds of rehabilitation, one day I finally came to a place in my life where I was able to say, “I no longer wish to be defined as a sick person”.  At that point, with the help of my beloved wife, Susan, we moved forward and built a new and better life together, after having both suffered the trauma of my illness and near death.

My beloved Susan was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in 2011, fought hard for nearly 3 years and died in November of 2014.  As our battle with her cancer progressed, and she suffered recurrence after recurrence, and it became clearer and clearer that we were going to lose, I became numb, became focused on caring for Susan and making absolutely sure that everything that could be done to keep her comfortable was done, and also to let her know how much she was loved and valued.  This I did right up to the moment when she stopped breathing.

 

It has now been fourteen months since Susan passed away, and I can report that it has been a pretty miserable fourteen months, added to the time prior to her death that she was ailing.  However, I have now come to a place where it is time to begin healing.  When you lose your spouse, you lose so much more than just your best friend. A huge chunk of your life and your identity are ripped away, and tossed into the wind.  It is no longer clear who you are.  It is even less clear how to rebuild your life, and often it is not even clear that the desire to go on even exists. That was certainly the case for a time with me.

I made some choices when Susan died, however,  which may have laid the groundwork for me to start healing.  I chose to turn away no kindness, no offer of friendship.  I was blessed with a large and wonderful support system.  I participated in a variety of grief counseling and group therapy situations.

 

And in this last week, it finally came to me. I no longer wish to be identified as a grieving widower. It is time to say goodbye. Not to Susan of course. It is time to say goodbye to the wreckage that was created by her sickness and death. It is time to say goodbye to the trauma.  It is time to say goodbye to the manner in which I have defined myself for 20 some years (Susan’s husband, lover, friend, partner and finally widower).  I wish to find and strike out along a new vector in my life.

It was not easy to get to this place.  I still miss her terribly, and she will always be in my heart and in my memory.  What will gradually fall away is the fear, the numbness, the horror that defined for so long how I went in the world. I can almost feel it slipping away. And I can almost feel Susan cheering me on. She did not marry a man who was numb and fearful.  She married a man who made her laugh, who made her feel loved and cherished; who works hard and gives of himself to others. That is the man she wants me to be. 

My initiation has once again taken place.