In recent weeks, as I have continued to shelter in place in my house (with four fur kids and no one else to keep me company), I have had a lot of time to think about so many things. What is it that causes me to feel so stuck? Why do I wait until the last possible minute to write these blog posts every week, knowing that I have a deadline (for the posts I publish to other websites in addition to my own)?
It’s simple. I recently stopped feeling grateful.
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.
Dear Tin, It’s so hard to believe that this week makes the second year I’ve had to wake up without you. I don’t know how to describe how 2 years feels like already and forever ago at the same time. Many people don’t understand that grief comes in drops, ripples, waves and flash floods. For […]
This week, I spent a couple of mornings outside in my yard using a weed eater to knock down some of the weeds that have been growing rapidly after lots of rain here in San Diego County over the last few weeks. Weed eating is hard work. Not that I am afraid or don’t like to do hard work, but it is very tiring.
What struck me is that a couple of weeks ago, I had already started to pull weeds in the yard by hand. I have never liked to pull weeds, especially by hand. In that moment, I remembered how many times Suzanne used to plead and negotiate with me to do any kind of yard work when we owned property together previously.
I blame most everything on #deadhusband.
Primary photo by Carli Jeen on Unsplash Since becoming an independent consultant in 2012, my least-favourite task – that of preparing my income and expenses for my tax return – has been consistent. For some reason, I fail to compile my expenses and invoices on a monthly basis, despite my diary having a “reminder”. Presumably something more exciting is […]
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.
A friend of mine posted last week asking for people to share things they have learned going through this whole health pandemic – either about themselves, society, or just life in general. In an effort to write something today that has a bit of lightness to it, I thought I’d jot down a few things I’ve learned through this whole craptastic experience we have found ourselves in.
As I’m just days away from the second anniversary of Clayton’s death, I’m finding myself in all sorts of mental states. The past 3 days I have been happy, sad, depressed, angry, energetic, exhausted, fearful, lonely, hurt, hungry, not hungry, over motivated and under-motivated. I want to talk and I don’t want to talk. I […]
On Tuesday, April 7, 2020, I woke up at 3:49 AM to my phone vibrating. It was a call from my middle daughter, Laura. It was every parent’s nightmare. As I answered, awakened from a deep sleep I had only fallen into three hours earlier (because as I came to bed I discovered a roof leak coming through the ceiling right outside my master bedroom), I could hear crying. It was my oldest daughter, Rachel, crying.
…From all that was no longer, but from what was,
Rose…Love.
Love filled with grief and searing pain and a tightening in the chest and a heaviness of spirit and a world no longer recognizable.
But…Love in all its’ power…
One of my professional colleagues confessed, a few weeks ago, that “It feels awful to say this, but my, isn’t the Coronavirus beautiful?” I admit I did a double take. She added, “Not what the Coronavirus is causing, engendering, but the virus itself. The images we get of it are just beautiful. Stunning”. Yes – […]
