I had this whole blog post written out; even found the perfect photo that would go with it. Then the Music Man and I had a conversation that has changed this whole post in a way. Like I said before, I have to remind myself that the Music Man didn't know Christopher because he talks about him like he did and respects the relationship that Christopher and I had and for that I'm truly blessed.
The other night he and I had a really long conversation about a friend of mine and the rough time she's going through after divorce. I expounded on how after reading one of her blogs I wanted to reach out and hug her and explain to her that all her feelings were normal; for in the end no matter how you lose your spouse, everyone grieves for the relationship that they had.
I explained to him how shortly after Christopher passed I went to a free support group that met twice a month. It was set up for families who had lost a loved one and were dealing with that loss. There were people there who were divorced and just there for their kids. There were people who had been going for years and yet still couldn't find a place with their grief that made them feel that life was going to be ok. Then there were people like me. People that had recently lost their spouses and didn't know what happens next.
I quickly befriended a woman who had children Ethan's age and got to know her. Her husband passed quickly in an accident and our stories couldn't be more different. While I had time to tell Christopher all I wanted which helped put my mind at ease; her and her husband got into a fight and she left with the kids to go to the store only to find when she got home that their house burned down and he failed to make it out. I remember her hashing out her story and how she had gone a year without talking to almost anyone about her feelings. Then there was me who the second I found out that Christopher was going to pass had made a mental notes to find a grief therapist. We were so different and yet I still saw a little bit of me in her.
She was strong and put her kids first above all else. She was dealing with things one day at a time. She had her good days. She had her bad days. She had days that all she wanted to do is lay in bed, but knew that wasn't going to feed her kids or keep a household running. She swallowed her emotions whole to deal with at a later date in time. She was me. I was her. Our situations different, but dealing almost the same way. We related - in a way.
Then one day after the holidays we were in group and we had to talk about something positive in our lives (being that Valentines day was right around the corner). One-by-one everyone shared their stories of how they met the person they lost or a touching memory that stayed with them. I shared how on the first Valentine's Day after we were married I walked out to my car only to find that it was filled with red, pink and white balloons and a vase of flowers in the cup holder. I grinned when I explained how I had to smile -- not only for the visual that a car full of balloons brings, but how in the hell was I going to get to work (on time) and how in the hell did Christopher manage to squeeze as many balloons as he did in my Passat!?! But that's why I love(d) him. He always kept me on my toes.
Then it was this other's woman's turn to share. I remember thinking that her story might be similar just based on conversations that she and I had in the past. I was ready to reach over and hold her hand when she might start to cry. I was ready to be there for this woman I considered similar to myself.
She looked at the group. She looked at her feet and took a deep breathe. I thought to myself how this memory must be painful to rehash and I was posed with a tissue to hand-off at any moment. She started to talk; then stopped. A rather long sigh exhaled from her and then she spoke.
"We are suppose to talk about a happy moment?"
The mediator in the group nodded his head. Another long sigh came from her and then she spoke again.
"Well then my happy moment is I'm excited about Valentine's day," she paused and took another deep breath.
I explained to him how shortly after Christopher passed I went to a free support group that met twice a month. It was set up for families who had lost a loved one and were dealing with that loss. There were people there who were divorced and just there for their kids. There were people who had been going for years and yet still couldn't find a place with their grief that made them feel that life was going to be ok. Then there were people like me. People that had recently lost their spouses and didn't know what happens next.
I quickly befriended a woman who had children Ethan's age and got to know her. Her husband passed quickly in an accident and our stories couldn't be more different. While I had time to tell Christopher all I wanted which helped put my mind at ease; her and her husband got into a fight and she left with the kids to go to the store only to find when she got home that their house burned down and he failed to make it out. I remember her hashing out her story and how she had gone a year without talking to almost anyone about her feelings. Then there was me who the second I found out that Christopher was going to pass had made a mental notes to find a grief therapist. We were so different and yet I still saw a little bit of me in her.
She was strong and put her kids first above all else. She was dealing with things one day at a time. She had her good days. She had her bad days. She had days that all she wanted to do is lay in bed, but knew that wasn't going to feed her kids or keep a household running. She swallowed her emotions whole to deal with at a later date in time. She was me. I was her. Our situations different, but dealing almost the same way. We related - in a way.
Then one day after the holidays we were in group and we had to talk about something positive in our lives (being that Valentines day was right around the corner). One-by-one everyone shared their stories of how they met the person they lost or a touching memory that stayed with them. I shared how on the first Valentine's Day after we were married I walked out to my car only to find that it was filled with red, pink and white balloons and a vase of flowers in the cup holder. I grinned when I explained how I had to smile -- not only for the visual that a car full of balloons brings, but how in the hell was I going to get to work (on time) and how in the hell did Christopher manage to squeeze as many balloons as he did in my Passat!?! But that's why I love(d) him. He always kept me on my toes.
Then it was this other's woman's turn to share. I remember thinking that her story might be similar just based on conversations that she and I had in the past. I was ready to reach over and hold her hand when she might start to cry. I was ready to be there for this woman I considered similar to myself.
She looked at the group. She looked at her feet and took a deep breathe. I thought to myself how this memory must be painful to rehash and I was posed with a tissue to hand-off at any moment. She started to talk; then stopped. A rather long sigh exhaled from her and then she spoke.
"We are suppose to talk about a happy moment?"
The mediator in the group nodded his head. Another long sigh came from her and then she spoke again.
"Well then my happy moment is I'm excited about Valentine's day," she paused and took another deep breath.
"The guy I've been dating for a few months has a really nice evening planed and I'm excited. My life is better that it ever has been; even when I was with my husband. And this is something I'm really looking forward to."
Everyone in the group just stared. There were even some jaws that hit the floor. And yes I'm sad to say I was one of those people that were in complete shock. I couldn't fathom telling people that my life was better than what I had before, or even feeling that emotion. The next few months she didn't show back up to group and I stopped going because honestly I felt like I got more out of my personal therapy sessions than I did with the group. But the memory of that woman's story stuck with me. I remember laying in bed wondering what she went through to think that her life is better now? I thought about how I could never say it. And I would never say that.
I sat in bed thinking how I would never date; because I never wanted to fight with feeling that if I opened myself up to someone else that it would mean that what Christopher and I had was a joke, something that meant nothing to me. I didn't want people to look down on me and question my every move. I didn't want to have to explain to someone that I could never love them because my heart only belonged to one person or that they could never better my life because I had already had the best life could offer.
I would listen to friends going through divorce explain how going through it was the best thing that ever happened to them because it meant that they were able to find their happy again. Needless to say that idea just went over my head. I was lucky if I could go two days with a smile on my face. People dating happily always forced a fake a smile because on the inside I could just never see that for me. All I could see is a woman who just needed to make it through life till Ethan went off to college and then I would figure it all out. Sounded easy enough. It all made sense in my head.
I explained to the Music Man how this past Saturday, with Ethan tucked in bed for the night, I sat on my sofa with my laptop in my lap and I stared at my friends blog. I read over and over her post. She talked about how her ex's birthday just passed and her's was coming up soon. How this was the first time that she hadn't spent a birthday with him since she was 18. And even though she's dating a man who respects her and cares about her; she still misses her husband. She can't see how divorce will end up being something good like her friends all talk about. She misses what her and her ex husband had.
I tried to wrap my tongue around the metaphors of how my fingers danced over the tops of these keys trying to find the right words to comment on her post. I thought of "I feel your pain." But that really isn't helpful. Yes it's reassuring, but it's not comforting. I thought about posting some really long and epic montage about how when life gives you lemons you bring gin. But that wasn't going to be helpful either because I don't think she drinks gin. I thought about explaining how one day everything will make sense. But right now nothing probably makes sense to her.
Then I remember the woman whom I thought I could and yet couldn't relate to. And here I am in a relationship; so how does all this relate to my friend who feeling allot of pain as she travels through the milestones in life after her divorce? If I tell her it will get better - then what does that say about the relationship I had with Christopher? Yes, I could see how with many of her friends she might find peace with her divorce and feel that way. But I don't really think that will be the case with this friend. I could be completely wrong. I could be half-way right. But I have a feeling that she will find instead what I have found in life.
So what do I say to this woman who feels the same way I did sitting in that grief group? That was the question that I posed to the Music Man. He turned to face me and explained to me in only the way he could, all the things that I couldn't wrap my mind around how to say them.
Everyone in the group just stared. There were even some jaws that hit the floor. And yes I'm sad to say I was one of those people that were in complete shock. I couldn't fathom telling people that my life was better than what I had before, or even feeling that emotion. The next few months she didn't show back up to group and I stopped going because honestly I felt like I got more out of my personal therapy sessions than I did with the group. But the memory of that woman's story stuck with me. I remember laying in bed wondering what she went through to think that her life is better now? I thought about how I could never say it. And I would never say that.
I sat in bed thinking how I would never date; because I never wanted to fight with feeling that if I opened myself up to someone else that it would mean that what Christopher and I had was a joke, something that meant nothing to me. I didn't want people to look down on me and question my every move. I didn't want to have to explain to someone that I could never love them because my heart only belonged to one person or that they could never better my life because I had already had the best life could offer.
I would listen to friends going through divorce explain how going through it was the best thing that ever happened to them because it meant that they were able to find their happy again. Needless to say that idea just went over my head. I was lucky if I could go two days with a smile on my face. People dating happily always forced a fake a smile because on the inside I could just never see that for me. All I could see is a woman who just needed to make it through life till Ethan went off to college and then I would figure it all out. Sounded easy enough. It all made sense in my head.
I explained to the Music Man how this past Saturday, with Ethan tucked in bed for the night, I sat on my sofa with my laptop in my lap and I stared at my friends blog. I read over and over her post. She talked about how her ex's birthday just passed and her's was coming up soon. How this was the first time that she hadn't spent a birthday with him since she was 18. And even though she's dating a man who respects her and cares about her; she still misses her husband. She can't see how divorce will end up being something good like her friends all talk about. She misses what her and her ex husband had.
I tried to wrap my tongue around the metaphors of how my fingers danced over the tops of these keys trying to find the right words to comment on her post. I thought of "I feel your pain." But that really isn't helpful. Yes it's reassuring, but it's not comforting. I thought about posting some really long and epic montage about how when life gives you lemons you bring gin. But that wasn't going to be helpful either because I don't think she drinks gin. I thought about explaining how one day everything will make sense. But right now nothing probably makes sense to her.
Then I remember the woman whom I thought I could and yet couldn't relate to. And here I am in a relationship; so how does all this relate to my friend who feeling allot of pain as she travels through the milestones in life after her divorce? If I tell her it will get better - then what does that say about the relationship I had with Christopher? Yes, I could see how with many of her friends she might find peace with her divorce and feel that way. But I don't really think that will be the case with this friend. I could be completely wrong. I could be half-way right. But I have a feeling that she will find instead what I have found in life.
So what do I say to this woman who feels the same way I did sitting in that grief group? That was the question that I posed to the Music Man. He turned to face me and explained to me in only the way he could, all the things that I couldn't wrap my mind around how to say them.
He explained that what Christopher and I had was special and he would hope that I would never say that my life is better. That would be an insult to Christopher and the relationship we had. But what he hopes is that it's equal to what I had with Christopher. That anything less isn't good enough and it should never be better; it should be equal and different.
There will be times when I wish that the Music Man knew a little more about cooking and in his words, he will never be as great of a cook as Christopher, but he can try to be almost as good. And there will be times in my life when I prefer things the Music Man does that Christopher couldn't do because of work or preference. And none of that makes them bad or good over the other. They are different and yet equally important to what makes a relationship work.
He went on to say that he was proud of me for all that I have managed to accomplish since Christopher's passing and I should never beat myself up over things that I can't always put into words. Sometimes that's the beauty in life. Life itself is so beautiful that words can't always unfold themselves to me; and yet, I fully understand where it was I've come from in this situation that life brought me . I've grown from them. I'm a stronger woman than I was before and chose not to be the woman I was headed towards becoming. That woman that closed her self off and lived in a cocoon is gone. She's so freaking gone. She has been replaced with a woman that is more confident and stronger than she had ever been before. She emerged into the woman who lets her wings soar. My life is filled with a new adventure and the adventure of sharing it with someone else. It's an adventure that's not better than what I had, but equal to. It's one that's filled with compassion and understanding. It's one that brings that same eat-shit grin to my face again. Each is different in their own respects and yet both make happy.
It took me years to get to place where I could look forward and not lock myself into my fears of the past. It's ok to sit back and remember what "was" and in no way will life ever be the "exact" same. But it can be as good as it was. As good as you might day dream it be. It takes time. It takes understanding. And most of all it takes a growing heart to heal those pains that find their way to hurt us over and over.
To my friend who's going through a tough week. It's 100% ok to feel those feelings that flood your mind (heck it's more than 100%). You grieve for the relationship you had and what it was that you loved about it. And while yes you have a man in your life and he's understanding of everything you have been through - that also means he understands that there will be times that you need to flood those memories from behind locked doors with your tears. As time presses on you will find that the woman who hurt for those moments will find peace with all that she feels and you might even look at that woman and wonder how you got to where you were. But the important thing is you allow your self to grow and understand. Don't let your mind trick itself into thinking you're any less than what you are. A strong beautiful woman.
2 comments:
Very beautiful and touching story!
Very beautiful and touching story!
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