I had a difficult April. (Shock, I know 🙄)
John pointed out yesterday that the Twins just started their 14th season at Target Field. Nate coincidentally died on the same day the Twins played their first game in that stadium. This means I just started my 14th year of living with grief.
Interesting phrase. Living with Grief. Inasmuch as love didn’t die, grief doesn’t either. What we hope and strive to do is live with grief and have a healthy relationship with grief, part of which is acknowledging her existence.
They say your body fully recreates every cell every 7 years. That means I’m on my second body since Nate died.
7 years ago is when I started my slow exodus from a job I knew well, the lifestyle that was familiar, and the career I’d chosen when I was 18. It was the right decision. The industry evolved, I was different, I needed more peace and downtime than it allowed.
We always miss our loved one more in times of conflict, strife, or uncertainty. They were the one we went to for that support, after all, and regardless of who has come into our life since that loss, they cannot replicate the exact relationship we had with the person, nor the particular nuances with which that person would have responded. (Related to my chaotic April this year: April 3 my best work buddy left us; this is also the person who handled 90% of the new accounts & transactions flow. Absolutely the right decision for them, and I’ve been poorly muddling thru the fallout while also dealing with the worst widow brain fog and I-don’t-give-a-shit of my annual cycle.)
Going into my next 7 years, I don’t know who this next person is. With distance comes perspective, and I can see that my first 7 years were surviving, discovering my physical life no longer fit me, landing where it does, then discovering the career no longer fit either who I was in my 20s nor who I want to be as a person living with grief. I’ve been in this current job now long enough to be stable - and the job itself is far from stable, altho my employment is - and able to take a deep breath.
My next (last) 7 years I’ll term learning. I don’t know that I’m thriving. My last 7 years have been plugging into the grief communities that are available online and in person, learning that I’m not alone, this is normal, that there is great grief where there is great love, and coping mechanisms. (Coping mechanisms!!! 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻) Learning to surf the waves, ride out the storm, etc etc. Learning that memories don’t mean sadness, and moving forward doesn’t mean erasing or forgetting. A Memorial Day can be a joyous occasion, and sometimes you’re simply celebrating your own survival.
I find it absolutely shocking and amazing that a couple of my posts this month have elicited “you are an inspiration” responses. (And from women I admire!!) I’ve definitely plugged back into my widows group in the past few years as opportunity has opened to help host and welcome new ladies, and never a month goes by that I don’t feel like I did something and received something from knowing this group of powerful ladies who refuse to roll over and play dead just because their partner has died, and instead choose to honor them, love them, and continue their lives. It’s hard work. I know. We all do. It’s amazing that we’re all doing it.
I’ll never forget when a friend told me I was strong and I went off on her. Seldom does a widow want to be called strong - you see that we woke up today, we know we almost didn’t. You see us out at the party with a smile, we know we’re going home to a bottle of whiskey. There’s a huge dark side that comes with this life that we don’t really share with anyone who’s not going thru it; because when you have to, we’ll be here for you, but we don’t want to scare you. My friend convinced me she needed to believe in my strength, because if I was surviving my life, she could survive hers.
I don’t know what year 14 looks like. 14 is more than I thought I’d have. I want peace, I want my house, my lake, my books, good food & Twins on the tv. (In short, everything I had today 😁) If life means I have to work to pay for a roof over my head and food in my kitchen, well I don’t have a bad job for that.
I found a quote the other day that small joys are as good as big joys, and that’s how I started back in my happiness journey, maybe 10 years ago. Happiness lies more in all the small things than the huge things. So I’m dialing back into my daily joys.
Here’s Leo & a lake. 😁
(FTR, as I’m drafting and sharing this, I’m not drunk. IYKYK. 😉)
