Monday, November 26, 2018

2 YEARS LATER

Grief turns time into a very strange thing.  I one way it seems like its been forever since Dan passed away and the next day it may feel impossible that its been 2 years.  It seems like yesterday, the memories of the days and moments that preceded his death.  Then suddenly it seems like forever like I've seen his face with his twinkling eyes looking like he's ready to laugh, his sweet voice telling me how much he loves me or how beautiful I look at that moment or that devilish grin with a raising of his eyebrows looking to be causing me trouble - always with humor.  Yes, I miss him horribly still and probably always will.  I was lucky to have had to amazing man as my husband, confidant, friend, partner in crime and co-parent and grandparent.

Here's what I've learned as I have traveled this rocky road.  Perspective!!  At least for me has been important.  When I started being able to see what is really going on around me instead of being so surrounded by my own grief that I couldn't breathe or see past it - then I started a sort of healing.  Then I could remember how lucky, how blessed I have been.  I remembered that perspective is what has always helped me recover from almost every tragedy or hurt I had experienced in my life.  The simple ability of seeing others and being empathetic with them.  I was able to be thankful for how much time Dan and I had together.  We were married 46 years!  This last July it was 50 years since we met!  A half a century!!!  That's just crazy!  That's just lucky!  Not only did I find my soulmate, but I had so much time to spend with him, let our relationship grow, create an incredible family and to watch them grow and create their own families.  Our children are our legacy (at least for Dan and I).  I remember talking when we were starting our family, dreaming of our children and how their lifes would be.  We both decided that our role as parents and the most we could hope for our children, was that they would grow into responsible, happy adults  that would achieve the level of success in their own lives that would be satisfying to them.  That we could give them the foundation to achieve that happiness and success in their life, it would see them through the joy and disappointments, the love and the pain, all that comes to the process of living.  Our promise to each other and to our unborn children would be our unconditional love, tempered with the responsibility of teaching them the skills they needed.  Dan was here to see that promise come to fruition in our children.  To watch them grow, learn, fall and get up, find love and friendships and then to create their family and their careers.  We talked about the unexpected feeling, that even though not everything in our life together had gone smoothly (as is natural), we were blessed to feel that success and be filled with pride and joy by watching our children succeed in love, family, work and friendship.  We talked about the unexpected joy that came not just from our grandchildren, but the joy of seeing our own children parent.  We could see that we had succeeded in helping our children in becoming these amazing adults.  These feelings were so unexpected, so serendipitous because we had chosen to focus on the process and the kids.   Dan was here to experience this and I was lucky enough to share that with him.  Dan experienced such joy in his grandkids and loved them more than anything in the world!  Getting to share in their discoveries of the little things in their worlds as they got larger and larger.  The sheer excitement of these little people when they saw us coming through the door, they would hollered "Gramps, Gramps", as they jumped into his arms.  Dan was here long enough to feel that joy, love, excitement and happiness and I was able to share that with him.

I have a friend whose wife passed away with her children still in high school and have seen parents taken away when their children are much younger.  I have experienced the grief of losing a young person, with their life still waiting for them. The truth is whenever death visits, there could have been more.  More time for their loved ones and all of the unexpected joys that could've come to them.  So, maybe I am greedy, regretting the time, the plans we had and knowing that I want more.  More time to make memories, to share our love, to share those devilish grins why he wiggles his eyebrows, to see those twinkling eyes, to hold his hand or rub his back (or have him rub mine), to watch him play with his grandchildren, to laugh with him, to hear his voice or feel his touch.  Yes, I want more, but I'm just as sure that everyone does!  So maybe it's not that I'm greedy - maybe its just that I'm human.

These realizations have made it easier to put the grief aside.  Like a rogue wave, it still overwhelms me at unexpected times.  Like a rogue wave, it's more random and not an everyday occurrence.  I think that's healing - or at least a step towards it.  I can focus on the other things in my life now.  I can laugh, smile and even think about the future and what it may look like without Dan by my side.  Sometimes, I know he's right.  He was worried about me being alone and had encouraged me that after some time had passed, that he wanted me to be be open to new relationships.  It was the thing he worried about the most after we had received his prognosis.  Dan wanted me to find someone to share the rest of my life with.  I still can't imagine that, but I do realize in the evening how much I miss having someone to share my day with. Occasionally I toy with the idea of what it might be like to  someone new in my life.  My kids worry about that too, they don't want me to be alone and know how important it was to Dad.  He even talked to them about that, wanting to them to encourage me.    I've haven't dated since I was in high school and have never known anyone but Dan intimately.  That's very scary and I still can't even imagine what it might look like to date or have someone be that much a part of my life.  So, I'm definitely not ready for that.

I'll stop my rambling here.  Yes, Wednesday , November 28th, it will 2 years since Dan passed away.  I am getting better, I am creating a life for myself.  Small steps, small realizations.  Most of all, I am able to know that Dan would be happy to know that I'm making these steps and would be encouraging me to be bolder, to step out and take some chances.  Bit by bit...

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