I hate this pendulum ride of life ... seems that with every good day, or time of great joy, I must "pay" the price - with the pendulum taking me so far from that good and joy. Sigh. Guess that is this widow's walk ... I keep hoping that there will come a time when the pendulum doesn't swing so far, so wicked, so wild.
I wonder if it is "normal" to have these times of reflective grief?
A picture they say is worth a thousand words ... but sometimes, a picture can bring up a thousand memories, a thousand questions. Sigh.
Why did I live and yet so many have not?
Someone who was so loved, who had purpose and direction ... someone who had (and still has) such an effect on those around them ... someone who loved with a passion, and was loved with a passion that remains.
Why did they die?
Why do I live?
I am not feeling sorry for myself.
I am trying to figure out my purpose - now, without Rick. It was easy to know my purpose all those years. I was his wife. He told me early on in our marriage that I would be the one who made living worthwhile. I tried. Every day, every night, every moment - I tried. But now? Sigh.
I am trying to find the direction for my life - without Rick. With him? I knew the direction was as simple as just being with him, no matter where he went, no matter what he was doing -- just be with him, by his side.
I keep hearing these comments --
"You have to learn to love yourself before you can love anyone else."
"You need to know what life alone is like, it will make you a stronger woman."
"You should just live this life, enjoy your freedoms."
I just sit here and think ... reflect ... wonder ... grieve.
Perhaps on some level these comments are right -- but for me now?
--So, if I do not fully love myself, I am not worthy of being loved by anyone else? Did Rick die because I did not love myself enough? Do you not realize how hard it is to just face each day, to go to bed alone at night? Please, add to me the stress and guilt of me not loving myself enough. I look at me in the mirror - and I see an old and broken woman, a woman without purpose or direction, a woman who is empty and lonely ... what is there to love? And if I cannot love ME - then who in their right mind ever will?
*I am trying to love ME - because no one else seems to. At least I am trying, perhaps not for the best reason, but I am trying.
--Just how strong must I be? I was strong enough to deal with all that Rick went thru those last 3 years, and especially the last year. I was strong enough to stand there, with my hand on his chest, when he took his last breath. I was strong enough to breathe. I am strong enough to continue with this life. I do not do alone well - even Rick knew that. I do not believe with one heartbeat that it takes being alone to prove to me or to anyone else that I am a strong woman. If you don't know me well enough to know that - then, you don't know me.
--Freedoms? Let me tell you one last time what freedom is to me ... Freedom is having someone that loves me without regard to what my hair looks like, whether I have make up or not, no matter the clothes I am wearing. Freedom is knowing that someone has my back - even when I make a wrong choice. Freedom is knowing that when I am scared, there are arms to encircle me, holding me close. Freedom is having someone to help me make the decisions for my life. Freedom is just being ME - and being accepted, loved, cherished, cared for. So, when Rick died I was not set free -- Freedom was TAKEN FROM ME!
I shall post this, shut the computer down, and walk on into this day. One step. One moment. One breath. At a time.
I know that I am not "doing this grief" the way anyone thinks I should. I have been questioned, argued with, judged, criticized.
I have asked the question - do I just lay it all down, do what everyone thinks I should ... so that they can be happy? "Take care of you" they say ... and then, when I try ... sigh.
Is there a right way to "do grief"? Is there really a wrong way? Or do we just do the best we can with where we are, with what we have, with what we understand? And if I screw this up - well, it's on me.
I know that I am not an island. I do not live unto myself. Every choice and every decision has a direct and an indirect effect on someone else. But at what length do I go to make everyone happy? At the expense of my own imperfect happiness?
I found myself so angry with Rick this week - for dying. If only he were alive I would not be having to live this nightmare in Hell. But, he died ... and I live.
Now to focus on breathing ... whether it makes anyone happy or not. Sigh.