I was going to write about
not wanting to write about grief anymore. It's not all I am. It's not all I want to be. I love modern art and indy music and dinner parties and reading stories to Iain before bedtime. I love traveling and doing nothing touristy. I like driving with the top down, smiling at the other drivers and seeing how many of them smile back. I like intellectual banter, witty, funny people, and unrestrained optimism. I like to sit outside beside the fire and sip wine. I like it even better when there's someone to curl up next to. I like hearing Iain sing. I like solving problems, being efficient, and having a clean house. I even like grocery shopping and going to the gym. And finally, I love a really strong cup of coffee on a crisp cool winter morning.
So I was going to write about all these things and then I accidentally (really) reread my blogger posts from last April. Now, I just want to go to bed.
Someone please tell me that there will come a day when the first conversation I have with someone won't include the fact that my husband died. It scares people. It scares me. I just haven't figured out how to be me without him and I certainly haven't figured out how to answer the question, "Where is Iain's Dad?"
Uugh. I so want to be done with this.
posted by Tricia @ 11:25 PM
3 Comments:
I found you through Amanda's ("The Cat Lady's") blog and have been reading for a while.
I lost my Mom to cancer last July and was lucky enough to be with her for most of her last two and a half months. I know my loss is very, very different than yours, and I wouldn't for a second believe that "I know what you're going through." I just don't.
But in my seat, as I have blogged... and thought... and interacted with the world since Mom's death... I have wanted to move out of the 'grieving Val' mode too. I find I keep stubbing my toe on it though, even when I try to operate out of different parts of me. Becuase it always IS. And I know it always will be... But... as you say, it's not all of me. I think slowly I'm learning to reclaim and express the rest too...
Anyway. Thank you for sharing your journey and your love for your husband. You ARE more than your grief... and that IS evident here.
I feel you, I just told my therapist today that it seems like I am developing multiple personalities...one part of me is desperately lonely and wanting to move forward, and the other part is still incredibly sad over Eric's death and feeling guilty. It is a strange brew, my head is.
Maybe grief is the right thing to write for this time.
Yesterday I wrote, briefly, about my son's death in 1963. But I can remember a time when it was the only thing on my mind and out of my mouth. You never forget, but those days will become fewer and fewer. You have to trust me on this one.
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