I seem to go in cycles of talking and quiet. There are times that I can't seem to listen enough - love the sound of other's voices, and to hear their perspectives on life, to know the passion of laughter in them ... or to talk enough, when the spoken words, and the written words come so easy and so full - not just about grief and loss, but about life and laughter.
And then, there are those times, like now, that I can't seem to find the words to say or to write - nothing seems to say it all, I can't find the words that say what really is in my heart and mind.
I am tired of explaining and defending the quiet times to those around me. It's just the way this is working for me.
I am not crying more than "normal", if anything I am crying less during the quiet times.
I am not angry with anyone, just a quiet time.
The quiet times are times of great introspection ... looking deep into the past that I had with Rick, looking into me now - who am I, what do I want, what do I like, and looking for that hope and future that I am told is there.
This is all so new and different for me ... Finding ME ... learning Margaret.

Hmmmm...trying to figure out just the right words to put here. You cannot hear the tone of my voice as I write. You cannot see into my eyes as you read these words. I don't want to sound "holier-than-thou" - cause I am not! I don't want to sound bitter, or angry, or depressed. I am not!
I am a little irritable - a little frustrated - a little discouraged ... and impatient.
I am hearing from so many well-meaning and caring people about living this walk of grief. People who tho they have lost dreams and hopes, they have lost loved ones even, they have never lost a spouse. I, too, have lost many dreams and hope. I, also, have lost many loved ones - all ages, for all causes.
BUT - and I say this just as kind as I can ... there is something so totally different about losing your spouse.
Yes, I am thankful for the years that I loved Rick, and that he loved me. I am so thankful that we were each other's best friends, soul-mates, heart throbs. Yes, I am thankful for the time we had together. Yes, I realize that we had something that many people never get a taste of.
But, and again, I search for the words that will sound the best here -- I love my husband with all my heart, still. I miss him like crazy. When Rick died, he took the "me" that I was. I was his wife, his sweetheart, his lover, his best friend. I was his cook, his cleaner, his nurse, his everything. I was HIS. He took that part of me with him. He left me here - alone, empty, lost.
I really don't care what you think of our life together - whether I was right or wrong to give myself so completely to him. He gave himself to me just as completely.
There are those who now tell me that it is high time I move on with my life - go out and find a life, make a life. Then, there are those who tell me that I have not healed enough. That I need to gather my grief about me like a shawl, sit down and just mourn a while. And those that tell me I need to put all the grief aside, walk away from it. Some say I cry too much. Some say I laugh too loud, or giggle too often. Some say that I share the grief too real. Some say that I sound like a woman in love.
I want to say -- This is MY grief, MY journey, MY life. I will live it MY way, in MY time, MY choices. If I screw up an hour, or a day, or if I screw up the rest of my life -- that is on ME. If you want to walk with me along this way - I love you all the more for being there for me, supporting me, cheering me on ... without judging me, without criticizing me.
At this point in my grief walk - I will listen, first, to the advice and counsel of those who have been here before me, those who are walking it now, and those who are so newly on this journey. They are the ones who truly GET this walk, all the ups and downs, all the times of feeling victory over the smallest things, and all those moments when defeat is screaming at us because of a tear, or because of the anguish within our very souls.
I believe that I can learn something from everyone - whether you have lost a spouse or not. Like I said - everyone has lost something. We are all in some stage of grief - always. Because we live in a fallen world, where death is a very real part of life.

I know that sometimes I am taken as a hard hearted bitch of a woman, but truly, I am not.
I find myself with more patience and tolerance than ever before in my life ... and at the same time with less than I ever believed was possible. Yes, a contradiction. But then, my whole life seems to be a contradiction now.
Running late for work ... homework not finished ... dishes piled up in the sink ... beds not made ... laundry not caught up ... less money in the bank that you thought ... flat tire ... all these little things of life are just that ... LITTLE things. Things that truly will not matter when the day is done, when tomorrow comes, or if tomorrow never comes again.
A little longer kiss to your spouse in the mornings ... an extra hug or two with the kids ... a card game after supper ... playing catch at bedtime ... snuggling on the couch for a longer movie ... time for a kind word to someone ... these are the BIG things that will matter when the day is done, or if tomorrow never comes.