"#1 - It won't look normal. What the heck is normal anyway? Cry, don't cry, walk around in a daze - it's ALL NORMAL."
Funny thing about me, I like to do things "right", how I perceive they should be done. I struggled for a while in counseling because I felt like I was doing it wrong. The same has happened with grieving. A sweet friend came to visit me last week. She said she had heard that people were worried about me because I wouldn't go out walking with them or go visit with them or answer my phone. She wanted to check in with me to be sure I was ok. I apologized and started to explain how sometimes its just hard to pick up the phone, or to leave my house. How the world seems somehow scary to me now that it is missing the presence of my sweet companion Richard. How I am afraid someone will need something from me that I just cannot give right now. She said I did not need to explain it to her. She told me I was doing what my mind/body/spirit needs at this time to feel safe and that grief looks different to everyone experiencing it. I am a worrier, I am often more likely to try not to offend someone than take care of myself and my own needs. She told me that my friends are not offended when I don't take them up on their offers and that was nice to hear. They are just trying to help in any way they can think of. That day I learned its okay to admit I am not okay and that I don't have to put on the face of "everything being okay" when its not, when I am not. I don't have to grieve in the way that seems "normal" and that each day my grief can look very different.
So what is normal? Some days I cannot get out of bed, some days I cannot stay in bed. Some nights I sleep an incredibly long stretch at a time, other nights I barely get an hour or two of sleep. Some days I feel no emotion, other days I could cry all day long if I allowed myself to. Some days I feel ambitious and attempt to get things done, others I can barely motivate myself to take a shower, let alone plan dinner for my family. One thing hasn't changed, and that is this: I miss my husband so much. And I love him still. Some days life just feels like it is something to endure and while I have heard that the joy will return to my life, I just don't see it...yet.
"#2 - You will want to talk about the person who died - at length."
When my mother was here I talked a TON about Richard and our life together. She was wonderful to sit and listen to me and to join in with her own thoughts and memories. So much reminds me of him and it is hard for me not to talk about him. Having my mother here to listen to me was very therapeutic. She loved my husband so much and that has been such a blessing to me. Sometimes when I talk about Richard in front of the kids, its makes them sad, so I find myself thinking carefully about what I say about him. A couple of weeks ago I wanted to write down memories of him that the kids have so we could always remember them. It was too soon and Annalina just turned around and went to her room. I found her later in her closet with the door closed. It is a tough balancing act, all of us grieving in our own way.
"#3 - People will shun you to protect themselves from feeling uncomfortable."
I am probably hyper aware that some people are uncomfortable around me. And its okay, it makes perfect sense to me. I try not to talk too much about things with people I sense may be uncomfortable. I have a few very close friends who come by to visit whom I feel very comfortable sharing with. My friend Lisa came from Oregon to spend almost a week here in Rexburg with me and I was telling her how everyone is always asking me if I am working yet and sometimes it drives me crazy. She told me it was a safe question for people, that it showed they were interested in my life and how we are doing without talking about the heavy stuff. Brilliant! That made so much sense to me and that question doesn't bother me anymore. The last thing I want is to make other people feel uncomfortable. Maybe that is another reason I prefer to stay in my home and not interact with people.
"#4 - You will laugh at the most inappropriate things probably for the rest of your life. I call it widow humor."
I think my mom and I started to do this a bit while she was here. Sometimes its easier to laugh at the things that really hurt rather than to cry about them. I don't do this a whole lot yet, but I can see where it may be something that develops as time goes on.
"#5 - You will smile again and at first it will make you feel incredibly guilty but in time you realize your smile is a tribute to their life."
The first few days after Richard's death I could not eat and I barely drank. I couldn't listen to music. I could not play cell phone games for weeks. I could not watch tv shows or movies or read books. I felt like it wasn't right that I should go on doing things that I enjoyed when he had been in such despair that he took his own life.I felt like I had to punish myself for still being alive when I couldn't keep him here. And before anyone says, "you must know this was not your fault and there was nothing you could do to save him", please realize that my mind understands this, but my heart still struggles with it. If I could go back, knowing how bad things were for him, I believe he would still be here and I could have made a difference. I try to keep things light with the kids, we giggle, tease, and play and at times life seems almost normal again. But it doesn't always feel real or complete.
I am trying so hard to understand what has happened and what will happen next. I want to see the big picture. I am tired of devastating surprises in life, but complaining about it is not the way to learn and grow. I find myself leaning on my faith and the Lord to help me develop into the person He knows I can be. I cling to the beauty of the Plan of Salvation. I see myself walking into the arms of my husband someday and I find that comforting. As much as I know that life is a gift, I truly look forward to that day.
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