I feel like each breathe I take puts more distance between us. You are in another place. A place I don’t know. A dimension I can’t fully understand because I am still here. You exist somewhere far from me; yet, somehow you are right here beside me. You are everywhere; and, also nowhere to be found. My Soul loves you, forever, for Eternity. And, now I love you in separation.
Photo credits: celestialworld.co.uk
My eyes can not see you,
But, my heart loves you.
Our Souls remain coupled forever,
For Eternity.
You are gone physically,
But, we are connected by the heart.
And, I miss you.
I miss you.
I miss you.
We are not content loving in separation because we want back what we had. But, that isn’t an option. Loving in separation is the only thing we have now. And, it is not some big new concept. Loving while separated is something we have done countless times before, when they were alive. And, now, we, the bereaved, continue to love our person despite their permanent absence.
At times, Mike and I were physically apart because of work; and during these separations he’d always tell me “Honey, it could be worse, I could be at war and gone for a really long time.” He was right. Throughout history, people have loved each other through long periods of separation. Obviously, we have the innate ability to continue to love one another while we are physically apart. And, this is done without any special training. As a human being, we can instinctively love what we can not see in front of us. Our love doesn’t fade when someone leaves the room; and, therefore, our love doesn’t disappear in our current circumstance.
“We don’t stop loving one another when we part. We know a great deal about how to love in separation, how to hold one another in our hearts when we are apart – thinking of, speaking about, remembering, sharing interests, being grateful to one another, drawing inspiration from one another…” (Thomas Attig)
I acknowledge that this time, we are separated from them for the rest of our lives… And, yes, this is so, so different than being temporarily detached. Death makes this physical separation permanent. This is f-o-r-e-v-e-r. I get it. And, yes, I know that loving in separation does not fill the physical void, nothing can…
But, what else is there?
The task of loving Mike for the rest of my life without his “presence” is daunting, and it saddens me,
But, I have to give it a try.
I don’t know what else to do with all the love in my heart…
So, now that he is physically gone,
I am continuing our relationship, on a purely Soul level.
Let me tell you about the best way I know how to do this…
Loving in separation requires a certain amount of practice. But, really it is a simple concept. To love in separation you “continue to love in all of the other ways we already know well that do not require physical presence. We fulfill our deep desire to continue loving and to feel our loved one’s love for us. And we fulfill their deep desires to be remembered and cherished for what they have given and continue to give even after they’ve died”. (Thomas Attig)
Somehow, despite all the missing that fills my heart,
I know that I am not as alone as I feel.
I have no ‘proof’ that Mike is here.
I just feel his presence in my Soul.
Loving in separation requires blind faith.
I believe that Mike is here, even when I can not see him with my eyes. I know he is around me, just like I know the sun warms my skin. On a cloudy day, I can not see the heat radiating from the sunlight, but, I still I know it is warming me. I do not question that the source of the heat comes from the sun. I do not doubt what I can not see, I just know with certainty that the sun is there – even when I can not see it. This is how I think of Mike now. I just know he is here – even when I can not see him.
Loving in separation means that I trust that Mike still exists in another form, in another place, in another dimension. I believe that he loves me from wherever he is. I know this to be true, in the same way that I know the wind is blowing. I can feel it.
I sense Mike’s love in the same way that I feel a breeze.
I trust that both things are real – even though I can not see either.
My eyes can not see the air move,
But, I know the wind is present because the leaves rustle on the trees.
This is how Mike’s love is now.
Like the wind,
He can no longer show me his love in the physical world,
But, I can feel his love touch my life like the wind brushes against me.
It comes sweeping out of nowhere,
Sometimes it’s a gentle breeze,
other times it is a gust.
That’s how Mike’s presence is now.
It can be subtle and other times I can almost feel him against me.
Mike is now the wind.
And, oh how I love windy days.
Mike loves me and he is still “beside” me with every breath I take. But, sometimes I get tired of just “knowing” with my senses. I get tired of standing still, hoping for a breeze. I am only human. I want to hear his voice. I want to feel his arms around me. I want the love that we used to have. Sometimes I’m done with magical thinking. Sometimes stardust isn’t enough. There are moments that I scream at him “Don’t leave me. Please come back. I know you can hear me Mike, come back damn it”.
And, this, here is the difficulty of loving in separation. We love one another, but physically we are limited. And, sometimes, as human beings, we need and crave a physical connection in spite of our attempts to make due with what we have. Widowed life is so complicated.
Photo credit: weheartit.com
When Mike first died I could literally feel him around me – for months. His presence in my life remained strong and consistent, just like it was when he was alive. In those early days, his energy was like a coat wrapped tightly around me. I know his “presence” was real because I am currently very aware of his frequent absence. It feels different now. I’m not sure where he is, or how far he is from me; but, something has changed. As time has passed, I know that Mike has “traveled further” because my senses can’t feel him as easily anymore. I miss feeling him. I know he is still present in my life, likely more than I realize, but it feels like there is a growing distance between us. I wonder if this is by design. I think he has backed away to force me to stand on my own and to move towards my own life.
I need to continue on my journey and Mike must go forward too. I must live my life story, even though he has been written out of it. Once upon a time, I had a book that I cherished – it contained the story of my life. I loved holding that book in my hands. The book was magical. The characters were familiar, enduring and close to my heart. The story was written in a language I could easily understand. And, the plot was developing beautifully. I could stay up all night, pouring over the pages because the chapters flowed perfectly together and the words leap off the page. When Mike was alive, the book of my life was exciting and whimsical. The story line was full of adventure and romance. I could not put the book down when Mike was a main character in it. Now, I am both overwhelmed and underwhelmed about the plot twist. The content of the book seems dull now. The story line is lacking. The remaining characters are flat. There seems to be a disjointed nature to the plot; and the protagonist is filled with internal conflict. The environment she exists in is dark and hollow. Clearly, my life story is no longer a book anyone would want to read by choice. I need to edit it. I need to concoct a new story line. The book was on a good thread before Mike was written off the page. And, now, with some inspiration, I know that I can write myself out of this dark of chapter. I need to devise a better sequence of events. Once I do this, my book will be a best seller again.
My life story has potential and so does yours. Tomorrow I will start writing on a fresh page. A blank page, full of opportunity, is waiting for my ideas. I can fill it with whatever I want. I think I will free write and edit as I go. I just need to get something onto the page. I am the author of my book and I intend to create something of substance. I’d like to write something engaging. Something I’d like to read again and again.
So, begin with me.
Let’s work on our stories.
They can be anything we want.
We are only limited by the restrictions we place on ourselves.
Looking back over the last fourteen month, I know that loving in separation has helped me survive Mike’s death. I continue to love him and I acknowledge his “presence” in my life – even though physically he is absent. I miss him desperately, but now I am doing what I can, with what I have left. I am attempting to re-write the story of my life. And, I hope you do the same.
Be the author of your life,
Staci
