Love

"The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds. And that's what you've given me. That's what I'd hoped to give to you forever. I love you. I'll be seeing you." - Nicholas Sparks (THE NOTEBOOK)

Boxes of memories

I am having some electrical work done on the house and I had to take everything out of the attic because the insulation had to be taken out. So boxes came down that had been up there for years. There were some still packed from our house in PA before we moved here to AZ. Going through some of them was very hard. There were things of John's that were painful to see - stuff from his office in PA when he worked as a therapist. A picture of us we had taken at Disney World. His trophies from singing contests he won in the Air Force. His old Air Force jackets. So many things. At one point I just had to excuse myself and go out in the back yard by myself and cry. I miss John so much. This stinks. It's never going to be all right.

But I am reading a very good book called  Healing Grief, Finding Peace  that has been very helpful. One of the things the author talks about is loving in separation. He is the first person who has validated what I have been feeling, that I can still have a relationship with John even though it's different now. Not in a crazy way. He is not talking about denying what has happened. Rather it is  a way to incorporate the change into life now as it is. As I learn more, I'll write more.

He also talks about grief and healing, not "getting over" the death of a loved one. You never get over it. John isn't some item I have lost. He is my soul mate. Our lives are forever intertwined. It's different now but it's never over.

Another good book I am reading is Grieving a SoulMate . It is the first book I have come across that acknowledges the difference between losing a spouse and losing a spouse who is also a soul mate. There is a big difference. While the love and relationship with a soul mate is beyond measure and the sweetest love in the world it is absolutely devastating when one partner dies. I am finding this book to be very helpful if only to let me know that what I am feeling is OK. But it appears to be more than that. I will also write more about this book when I finish it.

17 months today

Missing you, Sweetheart.

A happy picture

 

I love this picture of us. So young. So happy. It was taken at a party in 1986 so we would have been 38 [me] and 43 [John]. I must have been standing on something or John was scooching down because John was a  foot taller than me. What I wouldn't give to be able to wrap my arm around him again like that.

I'm angry

It's been a long week. I am having work done on the house and it's been stressful. Workers have been here, money is being spent, the animals are upset because their routine has been disrupted and they are rebelling as only they can. I have had to get up way too early too many mornings in a row, workers haven't shown up when they were supposed to, expectations need to be met, I still have to work and make a living and through it all I am still missing my soul mate, my best friend.
I. am. exhausted. I am tired of grieving. I am tired of justifying that I am still grieving. I have few friends that I feel comfortable enough confiding in and now that circle seems to be getting smaller and smaller. I have reached out to some and bared my soul and have been met with either silence or inane comments.

I am tired of pretending that that is okay. I am just bone tired and soul weary.
This is where I am right now. If people can't accept that they can go to hell. I am through justifying myself. I am through analyzing and scrutinizing my grief. It just is. If I need to cry I will. If I need to stay in the house for days on end, I will. If I don't like the idea of packing John's stuff up, I won't.
If I want to leave everything as it was when he left even though I know he is not returning, so what. Who is it hurting?
I'm not moving on? Big deal. Leave me alone then. I didn't ask anyone to share this with me. I can do it by myself. If I fail, so what? Who is that affecting but me?
This is my loss, my grief. It's MY husband who died. Not anyone else's. I will grieve him as I see fit.

Morning

Mornings are hard. On the days when John wasn't working, we always had coffee together and sat on the deck [when the weather wasn't too hot as it can get here in AZ]. And the "kids", our dogs Jessie and Toby, would sit with us and we'd talk about anything and everything. We'd plan what we wanted to do with the house, remodeling, etc, and the yard. We'd talk about family and trips we were planning. And we would just be.
Now I have my coffee alone but the kids still keep me company and I have my wonderful memories. So I surround myself in John's love because I know it's still there.
And I listen to the birds just waking up. And the sky pinking up with the first rays of sun and a new day starts.
Without John. And some days I cry. Many days I cry. I miss him. Very much.
But I am grateful we had what we had. I know we were very blessed to have the marriage that we did. We both knew that.
I imagine John still with me now. Just differently. I truly believe he is still here. Just because I can't see him doesn't mean he's not.

Perspective

I watched a short video today that I had made of Riley when he was younger. I had planned on posting it to his blog but I couldn't because John was talking and sneezing in the background. I remember I was a little annoyed at the time because of that. Now I like to watch that video just to hear John and I'm glad I have that video. It's one of my favorites. Funny how your perspective changes. What was once annoyance is now so precious.

Today's chore

Today I went to Costco. Something that John and I did together and enjoyed doing. It became a family outing. We had a list but always added to it as we went up and down the aisles. As the cart got heavier and heavier and harder to maneuver, we started guessing what our total cost was going to be. It was a contest between us to see who would come closest to the final cost once we were rung up at the register.
Then we quickly went home before the frozen food started to thaw and the ritual of putting all the food away was another chore we shared.
Through it all, we laughed and just enjoyed each other's company. John had a way of making everything fun.
Today I did all of that alone.
And it wasn't the same.
It will never be the same.

500 Days

Today marks 500 days. Five. Hundred. Days. How is that possible?
How is it that my heart still feels like this has just happened? Why do I still feel that John will return? Why do I see something he would like and still get the urge to tell him about it? Why when I am away from home for any length of time do I still feel the need to call home and check in with John?
John and I were together over half of my life and just about all of my adult life. I miss him so much.
500 days. 500 days closer to being with him again.