Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Bits of Happiness

I seem to only post sad moments lately.  That is probably because the pain and grief is still very real.  I work hard to keep busy and ignore it.  But it's there and it usually wins in consuming my thoughts and emotions, especially in the evening as I sit alone or head to bed.  I still miss Ed so much.  The hurt is so deep.  And I still can't believe he's gone--that maybe what I've been experiencing for the past year really isn't real and at some point I'll wake up and Ed and Larry and Mike will all still be here.  For how can they all really be gone?  This is some kind of joke, right?  But it's not a joke.  It's my life.  How I wish I had my old life back--I was so blessed and I knew it and I didn't take it for granted.  But that still doesn't change anything.

I work hard to keep living.  It would be so easy to close down and shut the world out.  But Ed wouldn't want that and it's not fair to Dan either.  So each day I get up and I work hard to live life and try to be positive and take care of myself.

As I write this, a Goldfinch has arrived at the bird feeder outside the window.  And it's a bright yellow against the snow that fell last night.  And it makes me content.  Ed loved the birds and when they come to visit, it gives me peace.  Below are some pictures that represent some of the nice things in my life lately.  For the sun does shine more these days.  I recognize it, acknowledge it, and now want to share some of the brighter moments amongst this darkness.

On April 7th, Dan and I went to a Red Sox game.  We took the T in from his apartment and then I stayed overnight.  It was Ed who made sure Dan had a futon couch so he could have overnight guests.  Thank you Ed!

The tickets were my Christmas gift to Dan, well to both of us.  We had good seats and the rain held off.

From this past weekend.  Spring has arrived!

Ed planted all of these and I get to enjoy them.  Brings me such pleasure.

On April 6th, I ran a 5K in Hadley.  Has been 18 months since my last 5K.
I actually ran the entire course.  Special thanks to Cathy and Lexi for sharing the day with me!

The hibiscus is blooming again.  I've gotten much better at not killing plants!

The Goldfinch (and the snow!) from this morning.

Small pleasures; small bits of happiness peeking through the grief and sadness.  And when I try, I can recognize and appreciate it.  And find peace...

Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Valley of Grief is Deep

It's difficult right now.  Each day I relive the events of a year ago.  What was happening this exact day a year ago?  It was a year ago that Ed and I agreed that we needed to change our goal from getting him home to him being without pain.  And any hope that we had that he would get better was no longer a reality.

I can't stop thinking how I've been alone in this house for over a year.  I cannot believe it's been a year--where did the time go?  What have I done in an entire year?  I have not made much progress is cleaning out Ed's things.  The golf club he got for Christmas before he passed still sits in the corner of the living room where he left it.  His clothes still fill the dressers and closets.  Yes, I've gotten rid of a few things, but not much.  But I know I'm not going anywhere and so there is no rush.  When it's time; when it feels right.

I fear this year mark as well.  It has been a year since I've held Ed's hand and felt his touch.  To kiss his lips and feel his hug.  And I fear I'll forgot that.  I have many photos that help me remember his smile and the contour of his face.  But how do I capture the images that only exist in my memory, for I fear the day when these images will fade.

Each day, each moment, right now is a mix of emotions and feelings.  I am touched by those who acknowledge this is a difficult time for me--that a year later the pain and hurt is still there.  At the same time, I am amazed that there are those who haven't a clue.  But then again, did I have any clue before I lost Ed?  No, so I credit those who have not experienced this level of loss, but somehow know that my grief is not gone and over.

I know I need to keep myself busy with tasks.  As I sat on the bedroom floor the other day, overwhelmed by the sadness and tears, I forced myself to go be productive.  To do something other than wallow in my grief.  And I will continue to do that this weekend.  I am thankful that the weather will be nice and I'll go outside and work in the yard.  I clearly remember that last year, spring was delayed in coming.  The days were cold and gray, which matched my mood.  And I was thankful for that.  A year ago today I was researching hospice options for Ed.  Today, I will work in the yard, and try to make Ed proud taking care of what he made and provided for me.

I honor the past, I push through the present, and I fear the future.  But every day as I awake, I thank God that I'm surviving.  I thank Ed for giving me the most beautiful 32 years of my life and giving me such love that it causes me to miss him so deeply.  I love the home we built together and I will work hard to maintain it and do him proud.  And I live on for Dan, for he is the best thing in the world to me; the best gift and legacy Ed could ever leave.  As I continue to move through this valley of grief, I will try to remind myself of these things.