Here I sit 18 months after Denny's passing trying to fake a recovery from extreme grief and loss. It is my hope that in sharing these thoughts, I can get them out of my head. I am tormented by the loneliness and loss of the most important person in my life. I go to great lengths to deny the torment and indeed it has numbed a bit. The piercing sorrow does not have the cutting edge a knife but it delivers a pain that is undeniable.
During the months since Milt's pass (early December), I have returned home to celebrate Christmas with our children and grandchildren. And I must admit it was without a doubt a joyous time. We created memories and it felt good to have laughter in the home that Dennis and I started in Feb 1970. Every day since his passing, I have been keenly aware that the closest I will ever feel to Dennis is when I look into the eyes of our children. That gives me great joy!
But after the festivities of the holidays, there is a calm and quiet that is "empty". It was during that time that I denied sorrow and started burying myself in hours on my IPad with friends on facebook or Words with Friends. Along with the IPad, I maintained a steady flow of comfort foods. I ate what I wanted when I wanted. All seemed harmless enough. After all -- who was I hurting. And to the comfort I find in food, I can say with great shame that I have gained almost 20 pounds in 18 months. Food has become my drug of choice. And in that moment when I swallow 'the drug' it feels good. It is satisfying.
A few weeks ago, I went on a weekend retreat- a Presbyterian Pilgrimage. The pilgrimage is much like the Catholic Cursillo and in fact that is where it all started. When I heard about the pilgrimage and discovered I did not have to be Presbyterian, I jumped at the opportunity to go on a retreat. My prayer was that it would help me move forward to understanding what the rest of my life is meant to be. "Why am I still here and Dennis is gone?"
Well the weekend retreat was phenominal but I didn't get the answers I went looking for. Instead I found a Christian community filled with love and acceptance for complete strangers. I didn't think it was possible to feel that much love with strangers but it was there! It was real! I explain it as choirs of angels celebrating and proclaiming God's love. When I closed my eyes and took it all in -- I could only smile thinking how great it must be to be in Heaven. The faces weren't important it was the love and the overwhelming joy that prevailed. Before you cast this off as religious fanaticism, I assure you this isn't any 'holy roller' church revival tent experience (attended those as a kid). The result of so much love was that I didn't want to lose it. I didn't want to walk away from that environment. I was learning something about myself.
When I speak of the 'bottom falling out', it is that drastic drop to sorrow that hits me like a bolt of lightening out of nowhere. Youngest granddaughter spent the night last night and it was so much fun just cuddling with this sweet child and playing our little games. Then I went to watch the youngest grandson play basketball. Watching 7 year olds play 'basketball' is quite a treat. One can't help but smile. After all that I went to see a movie (comedy) and laughed at the silly humor in a crowded theater. But it was the drive home that sorrow suddenly reared it ugly head. It made me angry! Oh how I wish I could just scream, and hit, and throw things to get past this helpless feeling. Damn it makes me mad!
Why Denny? Why not me? I will never know for sure but I think I am starting to understand just a bit. You see as a child separated from parents, I hid my pain and feelings of abandonment by loving on and caring for my little brother who needed me. Also I worked very hard to please those who were my caregivers during those formative years as a youngster. I became a master at being a 'people pleaser'. When my mother remarried and we were united, I had a stepfather (who later adopted us). I certainly wanted him to love me so I did everything I was asked so he would never leave.
Then my folks had their first child together. I became withdrawn and solemn once again. It made me sad to think they had a child together and that he would be loved more than me. Then a couple years later a little sister came. along. Both parents had to work. Dad worked days...mom worked nights. I became the caregiver once again. The one thing I knew how to do was love and care for others.
It wasn't until high school that I met someone who treated me with great respect and became my friend. Denny and I were just best friends. As one of my high school friends said at our 40th reunion --"When you latched on to Dennis, you never let go." She was right! He made me feel special. Anyone who knew him, knew he was a serious athlete! Swimming was his passion and love. I was just his friend who was always there when he wanted a date to go somewhere. I felt safe with him. I saw in him early the traits of a good person who treated others with respect and dignity. He never said anything bad about anyone. And no matter what he accomplished -- he was humble. Most important he was a person of faith. We spent countless hours sharing our beliefs and our faith in God.
So when I speak of the bottom falling out -- that is what happened when Denny passed away. For 7 years of dating and 41 years of marriage, I felt unconditional love. I had a caregiver who loved me and stood by me even during the toughest of times. Never once did I believe he was walking away. Never once did I have any reason to doubt his love. And I will fully admit, 'he spoiled me'. And I remember a teacher friend saying to me years back, "you are the only woman I know who has never said anything bad about your husband." To that comment I responded -- there was nothing bad ever to say.
For me the bottom falling out is losing Denny's comfort, support, encouragement and love. I lost my life partner and only true caregiver! What I am left with is a broken mess. I am starting to believe that I am still here because God is giving me time----!!!!! Time to learn to love myself. Throughout life I have always been able to love others and love God. I hope I have comforted others, supported others, encouraged others and been loyal to my friends and family along the way. In return I know with some certainty there are others who love me just as I am but I have NOT learned to love myself. God is giving me time.
My fetish with food and my self-loathing are destructive patterns that are symptoms of much work to be done. Dr. Phil would say, "you can't fix what you don't own" or something like that. Oh and "how is that all working for you?" Thank you Jesus for this time. Grieving is complicated on many levels. I have more good days than bad. And one of my challenges is not to OVERTHINK things and reflect on lessons to be learned.
For now I am here! Writing is therapeutic for me. If none of this makes sense to anyone but me -- well I understand because I am not sure it all makes sense to me. But I know that when I take time to throw my raw emotion in words, it releases some of the silent sorrow that still lives deep in my heart. I don't worry what others might think reading this, if you took time to read all of this, you either care about me or my family so you will know I am okay. Today was one of those days when the bottom fell out ... but tomorrow is a new day. I am blessed.
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Sometimes
Sometimes God breaks our spirit to save our soul.
Sometimes He breaks our heart to make us whole.
Sometimes God allows pain so we can be stronger.
Sometimes God sends us failure so we can be humble.
Sometimes God allows illness so we can take better care of ourselves.
Sometimes God takes everything away from us
so we can learn the value of everything He gave us.
--unknown
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