Dear NRK,
Your loss is so recent, that past and present are muddled up together and the sense of disbelief and shock has you in its grip.
People will tell you to be kind to yourself without stopping to consider what this means in practice. There are formalities and the struggle to accomplish alone, all that two used to do, unless you have exceptional friends or family who can help. You have neither the leisure nor the space in your heart to “be kind to yourself”
I am a little further on than many on this site and admit to having “meltdown” days or even weeks of despair. However, I can tell you that you will gradually (and there is no timescale) find that you have gone 24 hours, not only calmly but contentedly. Yes, I know, it doesn’t seem possible but please don’t push the thought away and please, don’t fear that losing the pain means losing our love. I promise you that this is not the case. We hold on to the pain, not deliberately but subconsciously there is a fear that it is all we have left and once the pain goes so will everything else.
There is good news. At first, I was begging to feel my dear one close to me, for some sort of sign that he was still part of me. I could feel nothing but the pain, no presence, no comfort. I wanted my life to end and it was only my faith that prevented me from making it happen. Now I can tell you that I began to get glimpses of contentment and, right from the start, I was able to be glad that I was the one suffering, not him.
I made a conscious and Herculean effort, all the time, to focus on that gladness, to offer my pain as a gift , my last gift to my beloved. Honestly, it helped and is still helping. The first time 24 hours went by without despair, I was taken by surprise, even felt guilty but then realised that my love had come closer and I could feel the presence I had so craved. For a fleeting moment there was real support and I felt “carried”. When the veil of grief draws back or thins or whatever it does, it enables us to glimpse a reunion, which will be fully realised when we meet again.
Forgive, me, anyone who is of a different faith or none but it is only possible for me to speak from my own perspective and that is the knowledge that we shall meet again and our souls will know one another. However, the process is the same for everyone I suspect. The passionate, daily storms of weeping and despair, give way to something gentler. It is a dullness, a lack of everything meaningful and stripped of all joy. That, in turn, evolves into something resembling acceptance. The shock and disbelief have worn off and reality must be tackled. I am at that stage. I don’t know how long it will last for me. Everyone is different and this road is not straight and always going forward. There are diversions and dreadful loops, taking us back to a point we thought we had passed and challenging us with tasks we thought we had already accomplished. Our strength lies in the knowledge that yes, we can do it because we have already proved it and we can go on.
For today, I am calm, accepting, glad to be doing this for my beloved husband. Ask me again at the weekend and on Monday, his anniversary and perhaps it will be a different story.
Grandma, you are so right - mainly rain but some glimpses of sunshine. There will come a whole day when it doesn’t rain at all. You will go to bed contentedly and when you wake up, the sun will still be shining. It may not last all day but the clouds and cold wind springing up will be temporary and the warmth will return.
God bless us all.
and because we are all on this site we can talk about our loved one as much as we want.