9 months

[Jess]

Today marks nine months. I don't count as much as I used to nor does the week leading up to the sadiversary fill me with dread, which I suppose is progress. I wonder when I will stop thinking about the months in general.

 

Time moving forward is an odd thing. On the one hand, it seems impossible he has been gone so long. When he first passed, I just remember thinking I wouldn't make it to see the sun rise without him here, but I did. It has continued to rise and set completely unphased by my personal tragedy. On the other hand, it feels like it has taken years to get to this point. It is hard to explain to someone that has not been this way how those two converse feelings somehow make my reality, but it is how it feels.

 

So much has changed. I often think about my July 25th self that had no idea that she was living the last "normal" day she would know. I think about how if I could somehow go back and tell her what life would look like now, she would think I invented time travel just to play a huge practical joke on myself, which let's be honest, I wouldn't put past me.

 

So, taking a self assessment, I am "okay". In some ways I am stuck and in some ways I am moving forward in ways he would be proud of. I still am sad, but it is more of a fog of pain instead of a crushing weight. The fog lifts enough for me to function when necessary, but I don't push myself the way I used to and probably need to. I know this will come and I can't rush it.

 

I'm not really sure why I needed to type this up. I think it is partly because people in my life have moved on and probably don't even think of today as anything else but a lovely Sunday. I know that here, every day is possibly one of significance to someone and today is one for me.

[Jen]

(((((Jess)))))

 

I don't know what it is about the 9-10 month thing, but I've become convinced that it's real. I was tripping along fairly well, then got sucked into the mire and floundered there for what felt like forever... I suppose I'm still there, which is a terrible, discouraging thing to say. I want to tell you it gets better, I really really do, but the truth is-- for me, anyway-- there's not much difference between 9 months and 12. Time is so slow anyway, it all feels like years and years since I wasn't smothered in sadness, since I felt safe and relatively happy, since I felt... real. I function, most of the time; I wear the mask and try to save my breakdowns for the shower (best place to cry) and bedtime. I have no idea how I'll keep this up over the months and years. I think the French say it best: Je suis d?sol?e, I am desolate.

 

That's how I feel: desolated. Barren. Empty. Every day is another day closer to-- what? The end? Is that really all I have left? I hope not, but... I'll be honest, I haven't seen much evidence to the contrary.

 

More hugs to you. Maybe one of these days we'll be able to look back and see how far we've come... be able to tell each other, "Wow, it really did get better." I hope so...

 

I will say I'm proud of you, though. You're an inspiration to me, and I'm grateful to know you.

 

 

[ATJ]

 

I'm not really sure why I needed to type this up. I think it is partly because people in my life have moved on and probably don't even think of today as anything else but a lovely Sunday.

 

 

(((Jess)))

 

One of the most difficult aspects of grief, and missing the person who was the central part of our life, is the fact that life simply moves on as if nothing had happened. It is such a lonely experience.

 

"Grief can't be shared. Everyone carries it alone.

His own burden in his own way. "

 

~~ Anne Morrow Lindbergh

 

Along this winding road we make so many unexpected discoveries - about ourselves, our feelings, our changed perception of life and the passage of time, how we see others, and how WE are changing in the process.  We learn that nothing is how we could have ever predicted, including our own reactions. It is a painful and humbling experience.

 

I walked a mile with Pleasure;

She chattered all the way.

But left me none the wiser

For all she had to say.

 

I walked a mile with Sorrow

And ne'er a word said she;

But oh, the things

I learned from her

When Sorrow

walked with me!

 

~~ Robert Browning

 

 

Most of all, we begin to truly understand the ephemeral nature of life and how we have to make each moment count, to take nothing for granted.

 

"What is life?

It is the flash of a firefly in the night.

It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime.

It is the little shadow, which runs across the grass

And loses itself in the sunset."

 

~~ Native American Saying

 

 

 

 

 

"May you be able to accept the seasons of your heart,

Just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over the fields.

May serenity be yours as you walk through the winters of your grief."

 

~~ Kahlil Gibran

 

 

My heart goes out to you, and I wish that in the midst of the inner turmoil you can find moments of peace.

 

Warm (((HUGS))) to you!

 

ATJ

 

 

[WifeLess]

Jess,

 

I am "okay". In some ways I am stuck and in some ways I am moving forward in ways he would be proud of. I still am sad, but it is more of a fog of pain instead of a crushing weight.

 

In "Man’s Search for Meaning ..." the author and holocaust survivor Viktor E. Frankl argues that:

 

"... suffering ceases to be suffering in some way in the moment that it finds a meaning."

 

Perhaps your incredible work putting this site together, which has helped numerous widows and widowers, has given some meaning to your suffering and thereby reduced its intensity. Just a thought.

 

I wish you continued healing.

 

--- WifeLess

[Carey]

"I know that here, every day is possibly one of significance to someone and today is one for me. "

 

Walking through life with others oblivious around us, it's "nice?" (poor word I think)... maybe comforting to know that at least HERE, people will stop and think of our loved ones with us, people  here will acknowledge the crushing grief that persists though that damn sun keeps doing it's thing. 

 

hugs to you girl ....