I’ve been away for a while travelling mainly for work but also visiting family. Before I left I was feeling nervous about the trip, it was the first time away without my wife, visiting a place we’d been to before and meeting people I hadn’t seen since before her death last November.
I’ve been pretty much on my own for the duration, working out routines, finding ways to process, space for grieving as I needed it. I was nervous about being around people constantly as I was staying with my brother and his family, commuting to work from their house each day, so not much space for myself and my thoughts. At first it was as I had anticipated, ambushed by memories of our trips there, sharing grief with the people who knew us as a couple, relating my experiences of the last months. But as the weeks moved on and as I talked and remembered and met people who had known her, I began to realise that I had taken time to face my grief and that I could now talk of it as something that was almost seperate from myself. Almost separate from my memories of my wife. Almost.
I realised that the life I had the opportunity to now live was the real gift that my wife had left me. The plans we had together are still in motion, the work we did together is moving forward and will be complete. Living with my brothers family I realised that life goes on, that my wife would always be part of not just my story but part of the story of many people, she would be remembered. But now her story was over, the end was sad but the journey there was beautiful. That I have, that I will always have. I will never get over losing her, she will always affect me, she will always be part of my life, my story. And in a way that is what I have been avoiding all this time since she left. Her story is over, she is now part of mine.
It’s very sad to think that, to acknowledge that, but for me there is really nothing left to be done other than accept it.
When I returned home I knew that something had changed, my perspective had shifted. The journey through grief, the acceptance of loss has been beyond anything I have had to experience, interperet, understand. I am not the man that started out, I have looked into the abyss and it has definitely looked back, shown me who I am, shown me who my wife was, shown me who we were together. It has been pain and suffering and I know there is more ahead. But I know that I can take it, my wife is still with me in my story, she will inform and she will assist and this story will go on, it has to.
I have experienced joy without guilt, enjoyed the company of others, made plans for the future, memories come and go and I don’t fall apart. There is hope for us all. Taking time to face my grief, to understand my loss, to experience the guilt of still living, it has all been part of getting to here. Acceptance. At times I thought I would never arrive, in someways I still doubt that I have. Time will tell. But I have the tools that I have built, challenging myself, accepting defeats but going back to try again, knowing when I need distraction, knowing when I need to reflect, knowing how to create a secure emotional space to do all of this in. It has taken time and effort with many, many set backs but I have always tried to learn and adapt and for me it has begun to allow me to live a life that I never dreamed possible when she died. It’s not the same and it’s by no ways better but it’s a life I feel will evolve postively and allow me to go forward, my wife securely with me for as long as I last. I realise now that for me grief has been as much about understanding myself and what I need as it has been about my loss. The waves keep coming but we can learn to swim.
xx