All along, the past 3.5 months, I have been wondering if I was Doing It Right. I was too at ease with all this mess. No, I wasn’t HAPPY Himself was gone, and I missed him very much, but reading about widows curling up in balls and not moving for a week, that sort of thing…I didn’t get it. Where was the overwhelming sorrow? I kept thinking about how disappointed Himself would be that I wasn’t incapacitated once in a while. This whole ability to compartmentalize my grief and save it for the evenings, something seemed odd about that.
Now? I would definitely love to curl into a ball and close the curtains. Dressing in black seems VERY appropriate and not just as a fashion statement. Sorrow is…well…There it is. Wow. It is really intense. Like, burst into tears at the least convenient moment, the moments that make strangers very uncomfortable…in the line at the grocery store, while discussing daylilies with the neighbors, stuff like that. boom, there it is.
Don’t get me wrong, this is not despair. Let me be very clear on that. While I would dearly love to be in the same place he is, at this moment that is not God’s plan and I am ok with that. What IS happening, is that I miss him terribly. I think what has happened in my brain is that I have gone from the “ok, this is so new I can pretend it is temporary and himself is off on an extended trip or something” to the “Ok, this is NOT temporary and Himself is permanently gone and I will never see him again in this lifetime, which for me could very well be another 50 years and that is a very long time.” yes, I have told myself over and over that in the grand scheme of Eternity, 50 years isn’t very long. however, in the not-so-grand scheme of a linear life which is the only thing I really comprehend right now, 50 years is a VERY long time and I deeply resent God for making me live it without my best friend of all time.
There. I said it. yes, God’s plan is God’s plan and I can’t change it. Yes, He had this all planned out for some reason I can’t imagine and will eventually use me somehow, including the stuff I am having to deal with…the sorrow, loss, learning to fend for myself, all that. He has always taken the crap I have had to deal with and used it for a good thing. I can look back and see that. Right now, I cannot see what/how He is going to use this crap. And yes, that is how I see it right now. It’s ugly, I hate it, I resent Him for putting me through this, but it is also kind of like a miserable surgery that the recovery from is long and lots of painful physical (spiritual in this case) therapy is needed to make it worthwhile. I get that. But I also am having a pissy filled temper tantrum about it and that Himself isn’t here to pat me on the back and remind me that it will all turn out well in the end…that makes me very, very sad.
I WANT MY HUSBAND BACK.
I have read and heard about how dogs are empathetic. It has been kind of sweet, whenever I start bawling, they come up and get in my lap. One of them is too stupid to recognize what’s going on, the the other 3 pile on and snuggle up close. Even the cats get in on the love-fest.
A big part of this hurt is for our sons. They have their own way of hurting and, as a mom, I want to take it from them. I know I can’t and it wouldn’t be right for me to. They are all having to do some serious maturing through it. Each one of them, I can see it, is taking something from this experience and using it for motivation. #1 is writing, #2 is kicking Differential Equations in the butt, #3 is entering fatherhood, and #4 is looking at morality with Himself’s strong center. I love the way I can see a piece of Himself in each son. #1 has his love of literature and philosophy, #2 has his logic and maths, #3…love of outdoors, and #4 his strong sense of right and wrong. I can feel Himself’s presence in each one and that is comforting beyond words.
But this sorrow, this current intensity of loss, the childish resentment of having Himself snatched away with no sort of warning or ability to prepare…wow this is really hard. I get it now and in a way am thankful for that, because NOW I am Doing It Right. NOW grief is real and immense and frightening. I can do this wholly.
I am not thankful for it. except that I am. Now I understand the absolute pain of loss. It isn’t shocking anymore, but it is almost absolute. It isn’t depression, or despair, or something that requires medication. It is being removed from everything that is comfortable and familiar and being set down in a world that looks almost exactly the same as the old one, except that it’s not, and I can’t do anything about it except get used to the new one.