Today is November 12, 2015. A friend and former co-worker had to say goodbye to her husband today. Her heart is breaking. Her world is shattered. I know that feeling. I know those emotions. I have been in that unimaginable and unbearable darkness. I lost my partner on March 10, 2005. I still remember every moment: holding her hand as she took her last breaths and watching the monitor as her heart beat slowed then raced then slowed until it stopped.
Some of my friend’s family and friends are telling her how strong she is and how she will get through this. I heard those same words and they never ever gave me comfort. Quite the opposite, in fact, they were a source of more pain. I wasn’t strong and didn’t want to be strong. I certainly didn’t want to get through the loss and would never understand why I had to get through such a loss. I found that the people who just listened, especially my sister, offered the most comfort though nothing eased the pain.
I first began writing a book about losing Karen at the end of August, 2006, a little over five months after she died. I did quite a bit of writing in a short time, but then I stopped. Writing about dealing with the grief process as I was actually going through it was much too difficult and at times became little more than a redundant journal. I tried a few times in the years after her death, but still I stopped because going back through those emotions was much too difficult. My sister started reading my draft and she, too, had to stop for awhile because remembering was difficult for her as well.
The first twelve months were the most difficult, most overwhelming moments of my life. After the first anniversary of Karen’s death, I think most people not only expected me to be “okay” but believed believed I was okay. Yes, I found reasons to laugh but I was never really “okay”. The second twelve months, from the first to the second anniversary, were somewhat easier, but still not great. The reminders were still there and sometimes quite powerful. I just felt that most people really didn’t want to hear that I was not always “okay”.
Once the second anniversary had passed, most people thought I was doing well and ought to be moving on with my life and even dating. But those months were a time of real reflection and the complete realization of just how much everything had changed, even the smallest things, although much seemed quite the same. Initially I titled the book When Love Is Taken My Journey Through Grief. I decided to change through to with because I am not so sure grieving has a specific ending. I think that intense grief diminishes over time but grief never really ends, not completely…
Each time I hear the news of the loss of a spouse, the just over nine and one half years since Karen died seemed to melt away as I was reminded of my own journey with a grief that never seems to go away but becomes more and more bearable until such moments as these. My friend will be alone in her grief, despite being surrounded by family, friends, co-workers all wanting and willing to provide a comfort that just can’t ever really comfort. She will grieve differently and move forward differently than I did. But one thing will be the same for both of us. The life we knew will be forever changed by the absence of the one we loved. Obvious statement, I know. But unimaginable in its depth until it is experienced.
Moderately liberal, liberally moderate, American flag waving Democrat! Bachelor of Arts in History with concentration in Early American History and Abraham Lincoln
Graduate student pursuing a Master of Arts Degree online in American History at Southern New Hampshire University