The Daily Cycle of Grief

As night approaches, I put off going to bed knowing that Dave will not be there and I will be alone.  When I can procrastinate no longer, when even the mindless games I click on are tedious, I make my way down the hallway.  The long summer nights are hot but I keep the window closed to muffle the sounds of barking dogs and other suburban noises.  The night moves on wearily as I wait for sleep to come and as I wait for day to arrive so that I can be distracted by daytime activities.

When morning comes, I debate spending a day in bed and hiding forever but I force myself to get up and not waste time.  No matter what I do during the day, my usual enthusiastic spark is not there, although I try to fan it back into a flame.  I know I'm supposed to be excited, hopeful, thankful and even happy and yes, there are moments when I genuinely experience those emotions but they are shrouded by my grief and I look forward to the evening so I can put another day behind me.

This morning I woke up and remembered the dream I had just woken up from:

Dave and I were getting ready to go out and (as we used to do) we were watching each other in the mirrors and talking about usual things.  In my dream I stopped and just watched and admired him, my heart so full of love for him.  I placed my hand on his arm in a gesture trying to convey to him just how much I loved him.  He stopped what he was doing, looking back at me in the mirror.

And then I woke up.  Alone.  Without him.  Feeling so much love for him but tangled up in so much pain for missing him.  My stomach was in knots and the tears kept falling because he is never coming back and it hurts so much!!  My legs are aching after the hike up the mountain last Wednesday and the remedies include taking a bath with Epsom salts, taking a painkiller tablet or 2, going for a walk to walk it out and knowing the pain will be gone within a few days.  I wish there was a pain killer for the hurt in my heart and I wish that I could be better by tomorrow.  But there isn't and I won't.

I try to conjure up memories of our time shared together but there are so few and there isn't enough.  I read in a book:

Memories were like sunshine.  They warmed you up and left a pleasant glow, but you couldn't hold them.

I can really relate to that quote.

The death of a beloved spouse can not be compared to the death of any other loved one and there is no time frame or cure for the grief experienced. I know the right words to say to mask my pain and stuff it away for those who really don't want to know how I really am doing yet ask anyway, but this blog is not for them.  I write to share honestly about my journey in this life, especially after Dave passed away.

This pain is not unbearable although at times I think it is.  Many years ago when I was pregnant, I was told to look around and see how many mothers lived through the pain of childbirth despite how painful it is.  I guess it's the same for when someone loses a loved one.  Despite the pain and grief, we will get through it.  After the rain of tears, there is a rainbow of hope for good things to come.  It just takes time and endurance as we perservere through the pain.

I start work on Monday and I've been asked by quite a few people if I'm looking forward to it.  I want to say that I am but I know it's also tempered with a lot of mixed emotions including excitement, nervousness, grief, curiosity and hopefulness. I know that it will be a good year and that I will enjoy teaching.  As with any other year, I will do my best to teach and train the students in my class.

I just wish the circumstances were different.