It's been a week since I lost the love of my life.
We've had the viewing (and it was just as hard as I feared it would be). We had two sets of calling hours where so many people poured in to show their support. We had his burial, and a beautiful celebration service. My long time friend came from out of town to be with me. She left yesterday. This morning, the out of town family went home. This is where the hard part starts. This is where we all start trying to find a new normal.
I don't think you can call the events "Festivities". To me, festivities means fun. It's always good to see Katie, and the out of town family, but there's nothing fun about the circumstances. But with all that said, the "events" are complete and now I have to start learning how to live without my best friend. I know I'll always have help with the baby, but nothing can take the place of my husband. Even just now I tried to look over and talk to him. But I was greeted by an empty spot on the couch where he used to sit. That hurt in a new and unexpected way.
Now, I have a sense of loss in so many ways. The loss of his companionship is crushing. Knowing all I have left are memories, pictures, and videos, it's hard to swallow. A piece of my identity is lost... as his wife, and his caregiver. Another sense of loss is, I feel lost as to what to do with myself. I want to escape, but I can't go anywhere without that void following me. I have so much tidying of my house to do but no energy to do it, and no idea what to do with the stuff, anyways.
I know, be gentle on myself. Worry about the mess later. But it stresses me out.
The best way I can describe what I'm feeling right now is like I've forgotten something. I feel unsettled, all the time. It's like I've wandered off and left the kettle on. I don't know if that's anxiety or grief, or both.
I haven't even been able to say the words out loud yet. Even thinking them doesn't feel right. My husband is d..... My husband is de...... Nope, can't. My husband passed.... Well, I can get that out but I don't like it. Jesse's gone. Nope, don't like that either. I'm a widow. Ow, no. Jesse went where I can't follow for a long time. I guess that'll have to do.
It's funny how along this journey it was so helpful for Jesse to talk about it. I wanted to pretend it didn't exist. I did my initial research when the surgeon said astrocytoma. I didn't like what I read, so I stopped researching. Then I tried to live in denial until he relapsed. After that point I couldn't take information in fast enough. Everybody tells me how strong and brave I am but in reality, Jesse was the strong and brave one. I wanted to hide from it.
I don't know how to move forward from here. I'm in uncharted territory so I suppose I just make it up as I go along.
We've had the viewing (and it was just as hard as I feared it would be). We had two sets of calling hours where so many people poured in to show their support. We had his burial, and a beautiful celebration service. My long time friend came from out of town to be with me. She left yesterday. This morning, the out of town family went home. This is where the hard part starts. This is where we all start trying to find a new normal.
I don't think you can call the events "Festivities". To me, festivities means fun. It's always good to see Katie, and the out of town family, but there's nothing fun about the circumstances. But with all that said, the "events" are complete and now I have to start learning how to live without my best friend. I know I'll always have help with the baby, but nothing can take the place of my husband. Even just now I tried to look over and talk to him. But I was greeted by an empty spot on the couch where he used to sit. That hurt in a new and unexpected way.
Now, I have a sense of loss in so many ways. The loss of his companionship is crushing. Knowing all I have left are memories, pictures, and videos, it's hard to swallow. A piece of my identity is lost... as his wife, and his caregiver. Another sense of loss is, I feel lost as to what to do with myself. I want to escape, but I can't go anywhere without that void following me. I have so much tidying of my house to do but no energy to do it, and no idea what to do with the stuff, anyways.
I know, be gentle on myself. Worry about the mess later. But it stresses me out.
The best way I can describe what I'm feeling right now is like I've forgotten something. I feel unsettled, all the time. It's like I've wandered off and left the kettle on. I don't know if that's anxiety or grief, or both.
I haven't even been able to say the words out loud yet. Even thinking them doesn't feel right. My husband is d..... My husband is de...... Nope, can't. My husband passed.... Well, I can get that out but I don't like it. Jesse's gone. Nope, don't like that either. I'm a widow. Ow, no. Jesse went where I can't follow for a long time. I guess that'll have to do.
It's funny how along this journey it was so helpful for Jesse to talk about it. I wanted to pretend it didn't exist. I did my initial research when the surgeon said astrocytoma. I didn't like what I read, so I stopped researching. Then I tried to live in denial until he relapsed. After that point I couldn't take information in fast enough. Everybody tells me how strong and brave I am but in reality, Jesse was the strong and brave one. I wanted to hide from it.
I don't know how to move forward from here. I'm in uncharted territory so I suppose I just make it up as I go along.
Hugs. Day by day. You do you, the best you can. And, if you can't do you, do whatever will make a difference or call whoever you need to call and rely on your family/friends for that strength. You don't need to have it or do it all. <3 you Katie.
ReplyDeleteOne day at a time and hug E a lot.
ReplyDeleteIt isn't often that you find another young widow (especially with a little one). Since that is what I craved in my grief, I wanted to reach out. I was widowed 2 and a half years ago my son's first bday. If you ever want to talk, I'm here.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry, God and on your son's birthday! It is a great comfort to connect with other people who get it, as much as we hate to see someone else go through it.
Delete