Tuesday, August 28, 2012

You Needed Me

This was "our" song, our Wedding song.
We always loved it. And I always imagined it was me saying this to John.
I had it played at his funeral and it was the first time I heard it from his side. It was John telling me he needed me too.
I cried a tear
You wiped it dry
I was confused
You cleared my mind
I sold my soul
You bought it back for me
And held me up and gave me dignity
Somehow you needed me

You gave me strength
To stand alone again
To face the world
Out on my own again
You put me high upon a pedestal
So high that I could almost see eternity
You needed me
You needed me

And I can't believe it's you
I can't believe it's true
I needed you and you were there
And I'll never leave, why should I leave
I'd be a fool
'Cause I've finally found someone
who really cares

You held my hand
When it was cold
When I was lost
You took me home
You gave me hope
When I was at the end
And turned my lies
Back into truth again
You even called me friend


You needed me
You needed me

31 years today

Friday, August 24, 2012

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Silly me

I went to Starbuck's this afternoon. I try to treat myself several afternoons a week. I have my usual - ice venti vanilla latte - and some sweet treat - a scone or muffin perhaps. I have done this so often lately that one of the barristas knows me by name now and what I drink. It's nice. Kind of like a coffee version of the old TV show Cheers.
So today I was there and I was carrying my newest book on grief Transcending Loss. My barrista [I am ashamed to say I do not know her name] chatted with me while she made my drink and then she noticed by book.
"What are you reading?" She smiled. I knew this was going to be a conversation ender.
I showed her the book, letting her read the title for herself. "It's not a happy title," I said.
Immediately her face fell. "I'm sorry. Did you lose someone?"
"Yes, my husband. It's been two years but it's still hard."
"I'm sorry," she said again. "At least you are continuing to work it through.That's good."
I thanked her for my drink and her kind words. That is probably one of the nicest things anyone has said to me.
As I walked to my seat I mentally congratulated myself. I had gotten through telling someone about John's passing without choking up. Maybe I was getting better at this.
Then I sat and read my book. Two pages into it, I was sitting in Starbuck's bawling and blowing my nose.
So much for having it together.
One of the passages especially got to me. It was about a gentleman who had lost his wife. His therapist had reframed his pain in a way that made him feel better - he was sad and his wife was spared that pain. That is how I feel about John. If one of us had to be sad, I'm glad it's me and not him.
And if anyone could reach out it would be him. I know we are still connected and we are still together in this. We are still married. It's just different now. We are doing this together until we are together again on the other side.
This poem has been popping up with some regularity in the last week, even in my book today in Starbuck's. There must be a reason. I  think it is a message from John.

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my old familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever meant
It is the same as it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

Canon Henry Scott-Holland, 1847-1918, Canon of St Paul's Cathedral

Monday, August 6, 2012

Validation at last!

I just found a powerful and very helpful book on loss and grieving.
It's called Transcending Loss: Understanding the Lifelong Impact of Grief by Ashley Davis Bush. It's the first book I have read on grief [other than the metaphysical books that I have read] that addresses grief as an ongoing lifelong process that has stages, and changes you forever. It does not talk about "closure". I have been saying for two years now that there is no closure, there is evolving. That this grief thing makes you a different person, for better or worse, and grief is a part of you from here on out.
That is not to say that you can't evolve and be productive but you never go back to who you were before your loss.
I recommend this book to anyone who is grieving or knows someone who is. There is more information on her web site.