Journaling Grief

January 25, 2023

I keep asking myself, “Where do I start? In the heart, or in the mind?” I cannot pinpoint where the grief is residing in me. It shifts from my heart to my mind – randomly, and without warning. It makes me cry when I least expect to or want to. And right now, a little over 3 months after my husband’s passing, I am still at the mercy of Grief. And as hard as I try, I have no say in the matter. I must go with the flow of it…ride it out. Lately, I have been tightening my seat belt, because it is, truly, a rough ride! And I cannot open the door to jump out of this ride because it is already in motion. My husband, Al, passed away on October 12th, 2022 - one day after my 75th birthday. The days after that day have been challenging and remain so to the present day. I am living in the void of his absence, while struggling to retain the memory of the joy of living with him for 28 years. I don't want to lose that memory. I want to learn how to use it to help me to continue to move forward in this life, as I know he would want me to do. Some days the grief rises, wells up in my eyes and spills out as tears…and I let it flow. Other days, it stabs me in my heart and just digs in…and I live inside that pain until it subsides. Several people have told me to take my time and allow myself to grieve…to take as much time as I need. But I have found that there is no choice in this process, other than to allow it to happen, for as long as it happens – and it happens to everyone, differently...everyone grieves in their own way. This writing is part of my grieving process.

I have gone back to look at the recording of the beautiful memorial service for Al several times since we presented it to family and friends on December 3, 2022. And each time I view it, I feel my love for him moving around in my heart. And each time, I feel better about allowing myself to immerse in his memory and swim in it for a while…It hurts less each time I dive in. I believe the biggest challenge in processing grief is the desire to avoid the pain of loss. And the sooner we realize and accept the fact that the pain of loss is as normal as breathing, the easier the process becomes. But digesting the pain is the most difficult part of the process. It's not a speedy process that we breeze through effortlessly. It's a Slow March, sometimes solitary by choice.

January 26, 2023

Struggling with the guilt of whether to call, or even wanting to receive calls from friends and family when I don't really want to talk is a painful burden…it's heavy, especially when you love so many. I was telling someone recently about how my heart is aching for so many people I love, because so many people I love are currently ill or alone and struggling with the uncertainty of their survival. I think about myself in relation to the entire world, in that, even when I'm swimming in my own pain and sorrow, I try to imagine other Human Beings who are simultaneously crying, like me…with me. People tell me that everyone processes grief in their own ways, in their own time, and I believe that too. I have witnessed people respond to grief with anger, with drugs and alcohol, with creative expression, with inauthentic gaiety, or the solemn act of “stoically pressing ahead” …as the saying goes,” different strokes for different folks.” But I try not to compare my grief process to that of any others. That process is new to me, and there's no magic pill or drink or word for me. I have to walk through this valley with only the armor of the memory of what and who Al was to me...and what remains in my heart and mind. And, above all, what Al and I both believed, and I still believe...That there is A Power Greater Than Man. That is what keeps me moving forward and keeps me standing. And when I do allow myself to be reached by family and friends, I always try to impart that bit of inspirational insight into my own personal journey.

Best Friends

January 30, 2023

Trying to convince or force myself to “Do Something!” does not work. I know because I tried. This writing, though, helps me to keep pushing against that Block of Pain that fills me up with a sluggishness that slows my forward movement but unfortunately, swirling all around in that sluggishness is an underlying feeling of guilt. I rationalize that feeling by telling myself that it is not my "Norm.” Sometimes, 'Nothing' is the 'Something' that I do in this space of grief.

January 31, 2023

I woke up in tears this morning. They were just there on my face when I opened my eyes. I didn't know I was dreaming, but I must have been dreaming of him. I have been trying not to cry – to keep going through each day without allowing tears to flow. I have been stifling my emotions, putting my best face and my most positive “voice” forward every time someone asks me how I am doing. I feel like people have their own problems too, and they don't really need me piling mine on top of theirs. So, I hide the anguish that is eating me alive. I have been living inside of these feelings since Al took his last breath on October 12th, 2022. And sleep is no refuge.

Facing Grief