Widow's Voice

Staci Sulin

Addendum

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Now, at 3.6 years, change is no longer just something I think about.  It is something I NEED.  It has become a requirement.  I must action change because I am slowly dying here in suburbia.

I can not stay still any longer than necessary.  In order to be a good mom, I have to make changes next year when my youngest son graduates.  I have to take a leap of faith and just move forward into an uncertain future.  I feel it.  I am brave enough to finally just go for it and live my life.  I am not sure how everything will unfold, but that scares me less than staying here in suburbia.  I was made for bigger things.  I feel it in my bones…

I am still dealing with the fall out from Mike’s sudden death. 

Death is heavy stuff. 

It takes time to sort through the wreckage that follows the death of your spouse.

Mike’s death left me with so many questions.  I  had to recreate my identity.  Wow.  Yikes, that is a bit daunting at the best of times, never mind in the middle of the shit sandwich that is grief.  Figuring out one’s identity is a humongous task.  I spent hours and hours sifting through the fragments of me that survived his death and I carefully and thoughtfully mixed those pieces into my new psyche. 

Even while weighed down by the heaviness of early grief, I knew that I had to figure out who I was – without him.  I had to rediscover my being.  The woman I am without Mike is pretty fabulous.  I like her a lot and I know that he would love her very much.  I am many of the things I was when Mike walked the Earth, but I have evolved into so much more. 

Mike’s death has taught me a lot about living.  Ironic isn’t it.  That is the beauty of life.  It is one crazy ride.  I am forever grateful to Mike for influencing my life and who I am.  And, that man continues to love on me from wherever he is now, I feel it.

Double Duty

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When he died, he was in the processing of teaching the boys how to do many of these tasks. Mike thought he had time. And, then time ran out. Death robbed us overnight. And, I find this ironic because Mike was a police officer. He was supposed to protect us from the injustices of life. But, sometimes things just aren’t fair. And, lousy things happen to good people; and, then, they are forced to somehow gather themselves and limp forward.

I am no longer the woman you loved…

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Everything is jumbled inside me.  My life has been muffled since you died.  My thoughts of you are so loud that they quiet everything else in my mind.  Tender thoughts of you hijack me from my own life.  (It must be sad for you to watch.)  Ruminating about you sends me in a tailspin back to the past – to a point in time when you are alive.  Mike, I love my memories of you, but I can not continue to relive our life in my head.  I can not continue to journey backwards.  I can not keep returning to this place where I keep you suspended in time.  I need to take flight and move forward.  I know full well that life is not lived in reverse.  Dammit, I know this but lately I feel like I am losing traction and slipping backwards.   

Covid-19 is complicating my efforts to reengage in living.  Now, like everyone else in the world, I am stuck in a holding pattern.  I can’t exactly make bold moves and reenter life with any real passion right now.  The whole world is paused.  We are all standing still.  Collectively, we are waiting.  Standing still.  Waiting…  

Humanity is waiting until it is safe to reenter life.  And, I am just one person lost in this stillness.  This lack of momentum reminds me so much of early grief.  It is feels far too familiar to me.  This stillness the world is collectively participating in has returned me to the habits of early grief.  I have begun ruminating about you again.  Thought of you consume me. And, these persistent thoughts are robbing me of my own life. *Sigh.  I am so fucking tired of being stuck.  I feel like I am held hostage by my thoughts about a life that died with you.  I desperately need to find respite from my rumination of you my dead lover.  You are the dead man who keeps me from living.  I know this breaks your heart.  I’m trying to change this.

Now What? (Take 2)

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Still, I can not believe how drastically different my life is without him.  I still ask myself  “NOW WHAT?” …  What the hell am I supposed to do without him?  I don’t have the answer.  In truth, I  have more questions than answers and I think that’s okay for right now.  It has to be because it is what I’ve got.

Maybe, I will find the answers to the questions I ask in the stillness and in the quiet of the lockdown Covid19 has created.  Maybe, while distancing from others, I will become closer to myself.  And, perhaps, I will “hear” what my Soul has to say while I retreat into mandatory solitude.  Maybe, I will figure out the direction of my life when I am forced to be alone – sheltering in place without the man I love.

Yard Work in Progress

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This blog features my tantrum against his death, and that’s okay because life isn’t always wonderful.  Sometimes it’s cruddy and messy.  Sometimes life is a work in progress.  And, sometimes, big lessons are learned while you roll up your sleeves and get dirty doing something very ordinary like yard work.  This is what happened today.

Grief and yard work are both labour intensive and each thing demands your attention at various times.  On Sunday, I gave both the yard and my grief the time they demanded and I’m better for it.

Hollow (Second edition)

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For many years, I chose to exist safely.  I needed to pause and reestablish my footing.  And, thankfully, I did outgrow the comfort of the limitations I have created for myself.  But, I will never forget those early days of grief.  I was so unhinged because of his death that I couldn’t manage much more than limping through the day.  But, as time has progressed, I understand that this was staggering was necessary.  I  had to experience the process of faltering and coming undone, in order to move forward.  I now understand that I needed my toes to touch the bottom before I could re-surface.  That was part of the process.  It was unavoidable.

I know that, eventually, I will find the momentum to get me to where I need to be.  I’ve come a long way these last 3.5 years and I don’t want to undersell my success.  I see what I’ve accomplished without him; and more importantly I feel it.  I like the woman I’m becoming.  And, he’d like her too.  

I have always had grit.  And, if I ever doubt my capability, I remind myself that once upon a time I was his.  And, he loved me because I was solid.  There is nothing hollow about me.

Force Feeding

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I am unsure how to sustain myself on self love alone.  I grew used to regular servings of Mike’s love; and, now, I am adapting to a strange sustenance that never seems to fill me the way his love once did.  No matter how much love I feed to myself, I am never fully satisfied.  I am not content on a diet of self love.  The love I have for myself is hearty and solid, but it does not appeal to me like Mike’s love.  His love was pure and my version of self love feels manufactured.  At best I am force feeding love to myself.  It feels awkward and lacklustre; and it is nowhere near as good as the love I shared with Mike, but it’s what I’ve got.  It is a start.

All too Familiar

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Recently, I felt like I was gaining traction.  Finally, after 3.4 years, I felt like I was starting to reenter life.  And, then, COVID19 forced me into the familiar holding pattern of early grief.  I feel the paralysis of fear taking over again; and, this feeling of being frozen by doubt and trepidation is all too familiar.  The emerging anxiety and unease are definitely affecting my psyche.  I feel myself sliding into the familiar landscape of early grief and it scares me.

I wake up each morning, and like in the days following Mike’s death, I just lay there because I have no desire to rise from my bed. My familiar routine is lost and this has me in a tailspin.  Once again, my life has been shaken up and I am not responding favorably to the changes COVID19 is forcing on me.  Right now, I feel  like my life is on hold.  Only this time, I am forced into a holding pattern because of a deadly virus, not Mike’s sudden death.

Having All Your Birthdays In One Day – Version 2020

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This year, I planned to be in Hawaii during Mike’s birthday; but COVID-19 travel advisories lead me to cancel my trip.  The events that are unfolding around the world have reinforced what grief has already taught me – nothing is in our control.  Nothing in life is constant. 

The only thing certain in our lives is change.  Mike’s death has taught me to accept that life is messy and unpredictable; and in this way I am somewhat mentally and emotionally ready to handle the current crisis.  I am used to isolation and living with a sense of uncertainty because I have lived this way since the day he died.  Sadly, all of this feels very familiar to me.  *Sigh.

Safe

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I miss him all the time, but right now with all the uncertainty in the world I feel even more alone because of his absence.  The truth is, Mike would have loved being quarantined with me.  And, I would have liked it too.  Like always, we would have made the best of it together. The other day, as I wandered aimlessly through the grocery store, I wished Mike was there with me.  He’d have made me laugh.  He’d even have made shopping during the Coronavirus “fun” because he’d be saying all sorts of goofy things to me as we walked through the dishevelled aisles.

I Forgot…

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In our community, “Grief Math” is common practice. We all do it.  We keep track of dates.  We mark dates. We “celebrate” dates. We honor our person on certain days. And, daily, we privately attempt rough calculations – in our heads –  regarding random dates and their deadness.    We complete these elaborate calculations involving […]