My Home in a Person

[HisPumpkin]

I know that I am kind of desperately searching for signs in everything, but I’ve been reading a lot, investigating spirituality. I went to sleep last night doing a guided meditation that was supposed to be about contacting your spirit guides, but actually I was really just visualising D before I fell asleep. 

His mom in the states when he passed said she would send me some of his things, she ended up sending me four parcels. I received 2, for which I am very grateful, but of the other 2, I know one is a piece of art she thought D was working on as a surprise for me when I was going over 25th if this month. I’ve been worried that it’s gotten lost, hadn’t heard anything, so last night in half meditation / dream state I focussed on asking D to get them to me. 

The postie just arrived with a couple letters from Parcel Force for those 2 missing parcels. 

Perhaps coincidence. Perhaps serendipity. Perhaps something else. I’ll take it as a sign, because it helps me believe that wherever he is, he still hears me, and he’s still looking out for me.

I think I’ve shifted my focus, from all the time we spent communicating with each other when he was still physically here, to focussing my energy on retaining the connection in whatever ways I can. I’m not sure on my beliefs, I’m far more spiritual than religious, church doesn’t personally bring me comfort, but I do believe there is something more. I know I need to get to the place where I still try to do whatever it is I have left to do in this life, and find a balance between that and this desperation to focus solely on the one who isn’t physically here anymore, but I think that for now, it’s helping me to immerse myself in this new journey of discovery of my spiritual self. They say that a soul mate, or a twin flame, comes into your life to help you learn and grow, and that many times the time together is brief, because the lesson is learned. D and I taught each other the value of loving unconditionally. Acceptance, gentleness, respect, and deep love. I am so sad that it was only for such a short time. But I know in my bones we gave that gift to each other from the start, and perhaps after the life that he’d had, that was the final lesson for him in this life. For me… I don’t know what I still have to learn, but I’m trying. 

[KayC]

OMG, that's your dragon and rainbow all in one!  How cool is that!

I pray the parcels all make it safely there...

53 minutes ago, HisPumpkin said:

I still try to do whatever it is I have left to do in this life

Yes, that's where I'm at now...

54 minutes ago, HisPumpkin said:

I don’t know what I still have to learn, but I’m trying. 

You don't give up, I like that about you!

[HisPumpkin]

I want a tattoo of a dragon and a girl designed for my back but I’ve been holding off til I see the painting. I know what I want and I do have a lot of D’s art to give them to draw inspiration for the design but, for me, I know he’s always in my heart and always will be, I just want him on my skin too. I’ve been wanting a back piece for years but never decided exactly what felt right. This does, and it gives me a goal to be healthier with my eating too because I can’t go under the needle if I’m not physically well enough, hydrated and nutrition optimal.

I’m getting involved with a grief share space via the local Unitarian church who’ve been lovely, they don’t have a fixed faith for members, everyone exploring is welcome and maybe it will give me some sense of community, as well as reaching out to a local choir who are happy to let me join without going on the waiting list because of the circumstances. Little goals to try to get myself back out into the world without pressure, but that may help me feel more connected to humans since I feel very isolated at the moment. 

D would tell me… baby steps. 💜

[DWS]

On 5/12/2022 at 7:49 AM, HisPumpkin said:

I think I’ve shifted my focus, from all the time we spent communicating with each other when he was still physically here, to focussing my energy on retaining the connection in whatever ways I can.

This sounds like the practice of continuing bonds that I've been reading about and I like it. Here's a recent article that discusses it more... https://www.joincake.com/blog/continuing-bonds/

My partner Tom's birthday happened two weeks after he passed away. I would normally bake up a batch of cookies for him on this special day and for some reason, through my tears, I baked cookies. In those four short years of our time together, I discovered the joy of baking. It's something that I'd do a bit in the past before him but I loved his big smile when I surprised him with cookies, brownies, or fudge when he showed up here every weekend. And now, despite it not being the best thing for my waistline, I've been baking other batches of cookies since he's been gone and it must be what is considered a continuing bond. I feel comforted seeing them sitting in the sealed bowl on my counter because that was part of the continual background when he was here. Very often when a problem arose, Tom would come to me and say "would a cookie help?". Yes...yes it will help. 

[HisPumpkin]

Yes, I think it’s important to continue the bonds, even though it’s painful sometimes. Last night I was sitting in bed eating an ice cream cone and without even thinking I held it out to D’s side for a bite - then I remembered how we’d often dip it on the tip of each other’s nose, giggle and kiss it off. Silly things. It’s not that I forgot he wasn’t “here”, so much as I feel in many ways he still is. Even though things bring tears, they are slowly starting to also bring small smiles even through the tears. I think I’ve been doing this continuing bonds thing since the moment he passed: writing, my morning and bedtime rituals, talking to him. I even made him tea the other morning - black with a stupid amount of sugar. 

Leaving the cookies on the counter, I love that you have that way of continuing to physically share space with Tom. D loved cookies too, he’s probably hopping over right now to nab one from the container and have a chat with Tom about how much they both love us and how they’re glad we have this space to help us, and we’re doing just fine 😉

(This is how I think of the soul and spirit - limitless ability to be wherever they want whenever they want to, and to continue to keep watch over us, connected through us - maybe it’s another form of continuing bonds). 
 

[KayC]

1 hour ago, DWS said:

This sounds like the practice of continuing bonds that I've been reading about and I like it. Here's a recent article that discusses it more... https://www.joincake.com/blog/continuing-bonds/

I have several articles on continuing bonds, I've added this one to it.  I think this is an important part of our grief proceess!  Thank you for sharing this.

[DWS]

25 minutes ago, HisPumpkin said:

Leaving the cookies on the counter, I love that you have that way of continuing to physically share space with Tom. D loved cookies too, he’s probably hopping over right now to nab one from the container and have a chat with Tom about how much they both love us and how they’re glad we have this space to help us, and we’re doing just fine 😉

Wow....I can't believe how comforting that sounds. But I ate the last one yesterday so they're going to have to wait til I whip up another batch this evening. I can hear the griping already!

[HisPumpkin]

I can hear D, “Come on Don, get yer butt into gear, your man’s hungry, stop slacking… and no skimping on the good stuff!” 

Then with me he’d probably playfully smack my butt with a dishtowel 🙄😊

If you find your sugar spilt or something, I apologise in advance for his sense of humour 😉

 

 

[Jemiga70]

On 5/11/2022 at 12:50 PM, HisPumpkin said:

It was a different kind of “rainbow” than I was expecting, but… a rainbow nonetheless.

From what Ive experienced / learned, signs dont always come in the exact way we ask for or expect. But if it resonates with you, thats the most important thing.  The fact you took a different route than normal strikes me as significant.

[tnd]

17 hours ago, Jemiga70 said:

The fact you took a different route than normal strikes me as significant.

That's what I was thinking. Something or rather, someone, was pulling her in that direction. 

[HisPumpkin]

Tomorrow I have a quick vocal range check with the MD of a local contemporary community choir, and I’m hoping I hold it together. Since D passed I haven’t really sang. I used to perform regularly, musical theatre, ballads, solo stuff when I was younger. Mostly in recent years just for fun but my voice, the anxiety, I’ve been cracking up lately, my voice feels “stuck”. Trying to sing the stuff I’d normally sing has me a crying wreck. I did tell the MD the situation though, and why I’m looking to join. We will see if I can do it, get me out of this apartment which has become something of a prison as my anxiety stops me from doing much. For a few days I was even having panic attacks about getting out of bed. 🙄

Last Year I had a little MH dip when my hormones started going wonky and my hair started falling out. I didn’t want to leave the apartment because I felt really unpretty, like I was losing my femininity. D kept reassuring me that I was still his beautiful girl, and he’d call me during my walk to work, distract me, make me laugh - calm the anxiety. I realised the meds the dr put me on we’re exacerbating the symptoms hugely so stopped them, few weeks later I was much better, but D always got me through.

It’s tough - he’d always know what to say, what to do, he supported me through everything. With him, my anxiety was non existent except when my hormones went nuts. Since he passed, everything makes me panic. 

I really hope I can actually find my voice tomorrow without becoming a blubbering mess. Music has always brought me joy, but it’s such a trigger right now. Every little step is so much like climbing Mount Everest. 

[foreverhis]

On 4/21/2022 at 2:49 PM, HisPumpkin said:

But what if, you knew the ending before the beginning, and you couldn't change it? 

If you knew it would only last a weekend, a month, a year, or ten years...

Would you still love as hard? Would you still open your heart to hope and dreams and enjoy it for the time you had? Could you resist the instinctive urge to build walls around your heart? 

Perhaps this is why we cannot know the future, why we must live each moment as it is without the promise of more.”

There’s a Trisha Yearwood song along this line that always struck me as true, years before I lost John and knew it for sure.  It's called "I Would Have Loved You Anyway."  (ETA: On reflection, I removed the link when I re-read how much music is a trigger for you right now.  Sorry about that.)

[foreverhis]

This is a little poem I wrote about what home is for me.

Home

Our home

Now a house

A place to wait 

Until I am with you 

And I am home again 

[tnd]

3 hours ago, HisPumpkin said:

Every little step is so much like climbing Mount Everest. 

I think you're doing pretty good, considering. No matter how it goes, the fact that you are attempting something that you know had brought you joy prior to your world being shattered is a positive step for yourself. That alone ought to help break the nasty anxiety cycle. Notice I said "help". You may need more than that for the anxiety. 

[Gail 8588]

@foreverhis

I love your poem. 

Thanks

[foreverhis]

8 hours ago, HisPumpkin said:

Tomorrow I have a quick vocal range check with the MD of a local contemporary community choir, and I’m hoping I hold it together. Since D passed I haven’t really sang. I used to perform regularly, musical theatre, ballads, solo stuff when I was younger. Mostly in recent years just for fun but my voice, the anxiety, I’ve been cracking up lately, my voice feels “stuck”. Trying to sing the stuff I’d normally sing has me a crying wreck. I did tell the MD the situation though, and why I’m looking to join.

I so hope that it helps.  Even if you decide you're not ready now or if you need time to get back in shape vocally, please don't rule it out a little bit down the road.  It's too important to your soul to give up.  I know.

I too spent my life (avocation, not profession) in the arts, music, musical theater, G&S, operettas, etc.  I grew up in a musical family/household and my mother performed in ensembles of G&S and musicals, as well as singing in choirs.  Of course, I was in bands and choir in high school and started as a vocal major in college (but switched to English/Writing/Literature when I realized I was good, but not good enough to be a professional and I didn't want to teach). John also grew up in a home filled with music and the arts and was a musician (trombone) and music director/conductor.  In fact, we met in the theater and raised our daughter in music and theater.  She's now raising our granddaughter in a home filled with music and theater.  My much younger baby sister was also in band, choir, and did some theater with us.  We're just a bunch of music and theater geeks.

I have had trouble with my vocal chords for 4 years now.  Obviously, constant/near constant crying plays havoc with them.  Combined with not wanting or having the energy to sing or play or dance and the difficulty of my current medical conditions means that I can't really be relied on anyway.  I talked to my internist when I realized my voice was still horrible after 3 years.  My ENT scoped (ick) to make sure I didn't have nodes, cysts, or anything concerning.  I didn't, but he said that my vocal folds are still inflamed and that the supporting muscles are very weak.  I'm supposed to go back to basics and work from there.  So it's beginner's exercises, scales, and such for me for now.  It's so strange.  I know for sure that age has lowered my lyric soprano to closer to mezzo, but that's okay.  I'm pretty sure my range will not still be three octaves, but that's okay too.  Our daughter has a gorgeous mezzo-alto voice and I've always envied her ability to sing lower than I could.

Here's a little story you may relate to a bit.  Several months after John died, I was standing outside one night under a starry sky.  It was so quiet and still that Cole Porter's "In the Still of the Night" came into my head, the version from the movie DeLovely.  I had been unable to hear it, much less sing it, because it was the very last song I played for John on his last day.  In fact, he took his last breath as the final notes drifted away.  Even through my tears and pain and shock, I couldn't help but think, "Of course, he was a musician to the last." As you know, we musicians don't leave musical lines unfinished.  It's poor form.  Anyway, I started to sing it and I swear to goodness I sounded like a strangled lark or maybe an angry hyena.  But I wondered if perhaps John heard it anyway and understood.

I'm sending you all the comfort and care in the world tonight and will be thinking of you, hoping you can sing well again very soon. ((HUGS))

[foreverhis]

1 hour ago, Gail 8588 said:

@foreverhis

I love your poem. 

Thanks

Thank you, Gail.  It was one of the rare ones that just come to my mind "fully formed."  I tend toward free verse and sometimes intentionally write shaped poems, maybe because one of my areas of study was the late Renaissance and they were big on that.  I didn't realize this one resembles the sloped roof of a house until months after I wrote it out.  Weird.

 

[KayC]

13 hours ago, HisPumpkin said:

Tomorrow I have a quick vocal range check with the MD of a local contemporary community choir, and I’m hoping I hold it together.

I pray it goes well today, let us know, okay?  

 

[HisPumpkin]

 

@foreverhis - I grew up with music and performing too. Flute, singing, competitions, musical theatre. I’m a mezzo sop, though higher range when my voice is working. I have always loved to sing, though the last decade it’s more just been for fun than much else, around the house. D loved singing too even though he was in his own words tone deaf but I always told him that music and singing is for everyone, if it brings you joy then that’s the point. So he’d sing to me often. Lullabies, serenades, silly little made up songs. His strength and his passion in creativity was art and words and I’d tell him I can barely draw a stick man - we all have our gifts. But the arts are for us all. So in many ways I’m singing for D - he called me his little Disney princess, showed off clips of me singing to all the guys at work which was a bit embarrassing but he was just always so very proud of me, of us. I think the voice is just like a muscle, don’t exercise it for a while and it gets out of shape, so I had started trying to do warm up exercises and the basics again too, to get me back into it a bit. I hope your efforts help it to be more comfortable for you again. I’m sure you didn’t sound like an angry hyena, but I understand that when you know what you used to be able to do then compare it can be very frustrating to not get your voice to do what you want it to. I’ve barely spoken in weeks let alone sang so I wasn’t sure, really, how I would be. In The Still of the Night is a beautiful song, and I’m sure John heard it. Maybe he sings along with you. I woke up the other night with Puff the Magic Dragon stuck in my head and had a meltdown because it’s one of the things D used to sing to me if I couldn’t sleep. The time I woke up would be the time he’d usually be driving home from work and if I was still awake he’d call me and sing me off to sleep. Maybe wherever he is, he’s still singing to me. What I wouldn’t give to hear him again. Hugs to you. 

Thank you everyone, the MD was nice and happy enough for me to join the sops. I did a quick warm up before I called her and we just ran a few scales to confirm the range I’d already told her I was comfy in. So I can go watch their final rehearsal on Monday before their gig, meet them all and then maybe join them in June for their next term. It’s a goal, and a way to try to get back out into the world. Thank you for the support you all always give, it’s a comfort to have people out their in the ether who understand how hard it is to try to work through this kind of loss. I wish very much none of us had to, but I’m grateful for you all. X

[foreverhis]

On 5/18/2022 at 6:24 AM, HisPumpkin said:

I grew up with music and performing too. Flute, singing, competitions, musical theatre. I’m a mezzo sop, though higher range when my voice is working. I have always loved to sing, though the last decade it’s more just been for fun than much else, around the house.

Pretty much "ditto" for me, including playing flute and except being lyric and not mezzo from about 15 until some time in my early 50s.  I started singing when I was about 8 and playing flute at 10-11.  Music has been so much a part of my life that I have no specific memory of learning to read music.  It feels like I've always known.  My mom told me that she and my dad taught me starting at about 3 when I was learning to read and learning my numbers.  I think that makes sense.

John had a wonderful, rich, natural baritone voice.  I'm a sucker for a good baritone.  He didn't sing nearly as much as I wish he had.

Here's another little funny story, as relayed to me by my dad.  It seems that when I was in kindergarten, I was less than thrilled with the standard songs like "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and "I'm a Little Teapot."  After all, I'd been listening to my parents in their folk music group (dad was six- and twelve-string guitar; mom was one-string bass; they both sang;) and going to rehearsals for musicals and operettas with my mom.  I had started "singing along" in my pipsqueak voice as soon as I was able.  So...one day in class when the teacher had us sitting in a circle and doing "Itsy Bitsy Spider" for the hundredth time, I stood up and shouted, "This is stupid!"  My parents were called in.  They and my teacher admonished me about speaking out of turn, shouting in class, and calling things "stupid."  My parents assured my teacher that I would not do it again.  When we got home, they explained to my crying little nearly 6 year old self that I was wrong to shout in class and wrong to say something mean like that.  I was not to do it again.  School was for learning and I needed to listen and behave.  Then they said, "But we understand that those songs seem stupid to you.  It's okay to think that.  Just don't say it out loud."

[KayC]

11 hours ago, foreverhis said:

It's okay to think that.  Just don't say it out loud.

I love it!  Kids are known for coming out with whatever they're thinking.   I can see how you'd feel that way!

22 hours ago, HisPumpkin said:

he was in his own words tone deaf

I have a funny little story about George, it brought me a smile just remembering it!  He LOVED music!  We're in a small church (no "trying out for choir!") and he sat down in his section and a young man who is autistic and a perfectionist sat down next to him (not known for tact/sensitivity) and we all started singing, including George.  This guy LOOKED at George, very pointedly, and said, if you're going to sing we can't sit next to each other!!  George was spitting/fuming on the way home about him and then I explained some things about Wayne to him that he hadn't known.  I've known Wayne since he was a young child, crawling under the table and screaming in my 1st and 2nd grade sunday school class at a bigger church.  I had 22 kids in there, by myself, and it wasn't easy.  I explained to him about his autism and being "different" and how it affected him.  About working with him at my job that I had at the time, how someone had fired him on his 21st birthday, right after everyone gave him a signed birthday card!  (Very unfair, supervisor who did it got fired afterwards)  Some of the difficulties he's had, he was an orchestra director, played many instruments, was PERFECT in his pitch and timing, because that was his gift, his mom was very musical!  But no friends.  After that, George sat next to him in Sunday School and they hit it off, a very unlikely pair with very different backgrounds and attributes.  But he understood him then.

22 hours ago, HisPumpkin said:

the MD was nice and happy enough for me to join the sops.

I am so glad to hear this, congratulations on being where you belong and I pray you will have much reward for your using your talent!

As an aside, I have been on the Praise Team (leading Sunday morning worship in song) all my life, first as a teen in a church of 500, then at one about 100-200 people, now in my little church.  I don't consider myself gifted whatsoever, I just enjoy it and I can appreciate your John and would sing with gusto right alongside him!

[foreverhis]

On 5/18/2022 at 6:24 AM, HisPumpkin said:

Thank you everyone, the MD was nice and happy enough for me to join the sops. I did a quick warm up before I called her and we just ran a few scales to confirm the range I’d already told her I was comfy in. So I can go watch their final rehearsal on Monday before their gig, meet them all and then maybe join them in June for their next term. It’s a goal, and a way to try to get back out into the world. Thank you for the support you all always give, it’s a comfort to have people out their in the ether who understand how hard it is to try to work through this kind of loss. I wish very much none of us had to, but I’m grateful for you all. X

That's wonderful news.  It is a great way to ease back into the world in a place where you already find comfort and acceptance.

I too am so grateful for the members here.  They have been a real grace in my life.

[foreverhis]

On 5/19/2022 at 5:09 AM, KayC said:

After that, George sat next to him in Sunday School and they hit it off, a very unlikely pair with very different backgrounds and attributes.  But he understood him then.

That's a sweet story showing how a good a man your George was.  We could all take a lesson from that.

On 5/19/2022 at 5:09 AM, KayC said:

I love it!  Kids are known for coming out with whatever they're thinking.   I can see how you'd feel that way!

Yeah, I was a typical kid in that regard.  I just blurted it out before I was taught and developed my social filter.  My dad told me much later that he was glad I didn't follow it up with saying we should sing something that the teacher might have found inappropriate for kindergarten.

On 5/19/2022 at 5:09 AM, KayC said:

I don't consider myself gifted whatsoever, I just enjoy it

That's good enough for me!  Your joy in singing no doubt shines through.  I doubt God or George care if you sound like an opera diva, as long as you sing from your heart.

[Gail 8588]

1 hour ago, foreverhis said:

 . . .  My dad told me much later that he was glad I didn't follow of up with saying we should sing something that the teacher might have found inappropriate for kindergarten.

Our younger son is a clone of his dad, very musical, and at a young age often sang along (in his chair, not on stage) with the band, that was always rehearsing at our house. 

In second grade his class was going to do a variety show and each of the kids in his class was to pick a song or dance or magic trick to do for the school assembly.  Our child chose That's the Way the World Goes Round by John Prine, which he could sing quite well.  It has some fun lyrics any 7 year old would like. However,  it falls in that category of clearly not appropriate for elementary school.  His dad and I had to bribe him with a trip to Dairy Queen to get him to switch to Take Me Out to the Ball Game.  We realized we needed to do a better job filtering his sing along songs. 

Gail

 

[foreverhis]

@Gail 8588  I think these stories fall into the "children say the darndest things!" category.

[Gail 8588]

@foreverhis I think children immersed in adult music quickly learn to appreciate the more complex rhythms and melodies.  

Like you, my boy was unimpressed with the 'stupid' simplicity of children's songs and would rather sing a John Prine song even if he didn't understand the words.  A trip to Dairy Queen was needed to get him to compromise his standards. 😉

[KayC]

16 hours ago, foreverhis said:

I doubt God or George care if you sound like an opera diva, as long as you sing from your heart.

George was my biggest fan!  He'd sit in the back pew (anxiety, wanted an "easy exit" just in case!) and beam at me!  Once he overslept and was hurrying to church and an officer pulled him over and asked where he was going in such a hurry.  He quickly responded, "I'm on my way to church and my wife is singing!"  The officer stepped back and said, "Well you'd better hurry then!"    A nice memory....you could tell his sincerity.

Gail, I love your story!

 

[HisPumpkin]

Writing again 🙄

In an alternate universe right now in a few hours I’m supposed to be getting on a plane to visit D in Illinois. We were going to stay just across the border in Wisconsin, and he wanted to visit this place that was some sort of Medieval reinactment restaurant, go to the drive in movie and spend more time fooling around in his truck like teenagers than watching the film, show me all his childhood haunts, every place that held meaning for him. 

Meet his people, everyone he loved, show me his world. Visit the lakes and the parks, and make more precious memories. 

Every day is hard. Today is somehow harder. Knowing what was supposed to be happening, and what never will. 

The only things I was supposed to be stressing about this past 24 hours were getting the negative covid test so I could get into the States, and making sure the suitcase fit the size and weight restrictions. I still don’t want to believe the actual reality. 

I went out on Monday to a community choir space who were kind enough to let me join without going on the waiting list because of circumstances. It was hard to go, but a woman there sat with me for a bit, asked about D, and told me it didn’t matter if trying to sing, music, songs, made me cry. She didn’t hide from the tears I kept trying to blink back, and she gently rubbed my back, and just held space. It was the first time I think I haven’t rejected touch in 2 months. Odd, to find more comfort from a stranger than those I thought cared for me. 

I think sometimes that how much intensity there is in my emotions makes me isolate, or makes people avoid me, because it’s so hard to know how to react. In truth the only person who could really make me feel better I can’t reach anymore. There is very little respite from grief, it’s visceral, and it’s messy, and it’s impossibly hard to do the most basic of things like remember to eat, hydrate, look after my body when I just want to reject reality. 

Mama tells me she would trade places with D in a moment, if it meant we could have the future we planned together, but that is not an option nor something I would ever wish for. I can only wish for the impossible, that this had never happened in the first place, that we still had the hope for all the beauty in the future we wanted. Years. 

Grief makes you selfish, consumed by the loss of someone you never thought of ever having to live without. It makes you unable to feel much of anything other than thoughts and feelings centred around the person you’ve lost. It feels like being stuck in a nightmare you can’t wake up from. New experiences and trying to move forward hurt, because you can’t share them with the person you want to. Staying frozen in time hurts, because you stay stuck in a traumatic and devastating moment. 

You forget to wish friends and family happy birthday, happy anniversary, happy anything, because you don’t even know what day or time it is, never mind the date, unless the date is something specific between you and your person. 

Places, scents, words, phrases, seemingly tiny things can trigger a memory that hits you like a tsunami of emotion that hurts so intensely you feel it physically and you are completely incapacitated by it. They hit everywhere - in the store, in the street, at any moment. Anxiety, sadness, darkness consumes and you don’t want to get out of bed, because what is the point? 

You think you’ve run out of tears, then you’re a crying wreck on the floor again, screaming at the injustice of it all. Then comes the guilt of not doing better, thoughts that he’d cope better, in a role reversal, that he’d find ways to find meaning in life again where you aren’t able to see much of anything. But you know the pain, and you could never wish that on anyone, let alone someone you love. 

You start exploring every possible avenue of spirituality, of trying to find ways to continue bonds in any way possible, or for some you lose all sense of faith. 

You wish every time you close your eyes that you just wouldn’t wake up. You think about every possible way of ending it all. You think then you need to kick your own ass, and go out and try to live your best life, for you and for the one who that is no longer an option for. But you don’t have the energy or the drive or the faintest idea of how to even begin contemplating that. 

You cycle through a million racing thoughts a minute, or you go numb. There is no middle ground. It’s overwhelming, or there’s nothing. Despair, or complete despondency. And you cannot imagine ever smiling again. 

You just want to sleep forever. But you cycle through days of little to no sleep, staring blankly at the wall or desperately clutching a pillow that still retains some of his scent, sobbing, doubled over in pain… until exhaustion overwhelms and you end up sleeping for 15 hours straight. 

You see that further down this road, many people have found ways to continue on, that the raw intensity fades somewhat, though the sadness of loss is always there - and you wonder how they found that strength, and if you will ever get there. A part of you doesn’t want to, because that point brings you further and further away from the one you love, and accepting your future without them is inconceivable. 

You are so grateful for every moment of joy, love and light that you shared, but even that is coloured by the agony of knowing there will be no more shared moments, and remembering can bring on even more waves of intense emotional pain. 

You feel fractured in your soul, and you just want to go home. But home is your person, and there is no way to reach them, not physically, not anymore. So you wander, aimless, feeling so much like you’re drowning in the middle of the ocean, with no lifeline. And you just want to let go, but your body won’t comply. 

And so it spins. Minutes become hours, then days, then weeks. Months. And you still feel stuck. Perhaps years will bring more respite. 

This is my experience of this journey. I hope in time that some sense of hope is restored. Writing gives me focus, not much else does, and though there’s little by way of positivity right now, perhaps in its rawness it helps others to feel less alone on this messy, heartbreaking path.

[DWS]

1 hour ago, HisPumpkin said:

Writing again 🙄

In an alternate universe right now in a few hours I’m supposed to be getting on a plane to visit D in Illinois. We were going to stay just across the border in Wisconsin, and he wanted to visit this place that was some sort of Medieval reinactment restaurant, go to the drive in movie and spend more time fooling around in his truck like teenagers than watching the film, show me all his childhood haunts, every place that held meaning for him. 

Meet his people, everyone he loved, show me his world. Visit the lakes and the parks, and make more precious memories. 

Every day is hard. Today is somehow harder. Knowing what was supposed to be happening, and what never will. 

In distressing moments like what you're currently going through, words of comfort are all that can be offered to try to ease just a bit of your suffering. As I'm learning, all we can do is get through it as best we can. There's just not any other damn thing to do....although writing certainly does help. 

1 hour ago, HisPumpkin said:

You see that further down this road, many people have found ways to continue on, that the raw intensity fades somewhat, though the sadness of loss is always there - and you wonder how they found that strength, and if you will ever get there. A part of you doesn’t want to, because that point brings you further and further away from the one you love, and accepting your future without them is inconceivable.

This is definitely where I'm at. I'm keeping it in mind that things aren't going to get "better"...just different. There is nothing better than what has been lost. And god help the first person who attempts to tell me that things will get better. 

[KayC]

13 hours ago, HisPumpkin said:

Mama tells me she would trade places with D in a moment, if it meant we could have the future we planned together

That is so sweet, but I identify with your Mama as I'd do anything I could for my kids, it's how we are, no matter how old our kids are. 

11 hours ago, DWS said:

And god help the first person who attempts to tell me that things will get better. 

"Better" is a relative term...I learned that we get "better" at coping and get more used to the changes it means for our lives, we hone our coping skills and in that sense begin to adjust.  When I look back to day one when I got the shock of losing him, and the days and early years that followed, it has gotten "better" in the sense I've learned to adjust and itt no longer keeps slapping me upside the head with shock!  HOWEVER, that does NOT represent "better" in that things are ever what I'd call okay, well, perfect, good like it once was when he was alive.  That is gone.  One thing I take with me is that no one can steal the memories, the things I learned for having known him, the positives of HIM, our relationship, our love, those are still mine.  His physical body may be gone from me but I know without a shadow of a doubt that our love remains and nothing, NOTHING can change that!