The mantle of grief can be as weighty as it can be light. Layers of it feek like thick, wet, felt-wool. Itchy. Dense. Uncomfortable. Other layers soothe,like wispy strands of gossamer silk gently skimming over the surface of ones skin.
It is 12 weeks today. 3 months. Almost to the day.
It seems like so much longer.
Snapshot memories fly at me from the strangest of places.
Driving south the other day, I realized that the last time I drove this route was the last time I went to the hospital ...
Random landmarks & signposts would take me back to the 19 days that I made that trip - each direction coming with its own set of thoughts. Energy. Anticipation. Hope.
a couple of days ago, I was tearing out crossword puzzles. Folding them in four. Putting them aside.
Last time I did that, I was going to the hospital ...
Nice things in the Bealls catalogue. Vic would really like those shoes ....
Oh, peanut butter ice cream. Great. Vic love peanut butter ...
I never realized just how programmed I had become. Just how automatic was automatic. Just how numb to the pain of it. Just how much responsibility I carried totally alone, those 5 years, day by day. I was the only, the one & only person in the whole world who was there for Vic. The only one that Vic totally knew had his back. That he totally trusted.
We prayed to G-d, Every night. Every day. A whole lot.
Now, I seen to function day to day with crash & burn frequency. Everything takes a monumental effort on my part. I push & push to get through all the most mundane things. It's confusing. At one point, I was superwoman. Now I'm just super depleted.
I just really want to be home. Alone but for the children. Home, where I am happiest & safest. A home oozing warmth & love. I find myself needing to keep my commitments to barest minimum. I am forced to say no more than ever. No, I just can't. All I really want & need is to be with our children. And the closest of friends who understand this difficult, discombobulating time.
As far as grief & loss go, I am one of the fortunate ones. Vic & I had a long time to talk about things. To have no regrets. To know that you said what you wanted to say. And got to repeat it, as I was able to with Vic many, many, many times ... it's a beautiful, beautiful gift. A great blessing.
That is why I do wrap myself in the loss, the grief, with love. I walk deep into my feelings & in there, I find comfort.
How strange & yet wonderful.