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The Weight of Grief by Celeste Roberge


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Image from Pinterest
It’s hard being the person every one comes to for answers… and you don’t have any.
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Image from Pinterest
I know you’re gone
I’m not Deluded
Or in Denial
Dread is a constant companion
Because I know you’re gone
And each day is more of the same
And no you
Yet , my senses come alive
When I see the things you loved
When I hear the music you loved
I get excited and can’t wait to tell you about them
Then my heart skips a beat
Because I know you’re gone
Despair and Depression grab my hands
And I’m caught in a tug-of-war
Where losing is the only option
Because I know you’re gone.
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Image from Pinterest
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We could laugh and talk for hours/days … then not talk hours/days.
That was part of “us.”
We didn’t have to be in the same room to be comforted by each other’s presence.
We didn’t have to voice every thought and emotion.
We appreciated the silence.
But invariably, one of us would cough or sneeze, leading the other one to make a loud, snarky remark … and we’d be off and running into recreating endless movie scenes and TV one-liners.
Until we exhausted ourselves and invited silence in.
We appreciated the silence.
But I don’t anymore.
The silence is too loud.
Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in silence and the only lifeline that can save me is gone.
Forever.
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Image from Pinterest

Life isย made up of milestones.
Certain birthdays are celebrated because they grant us the privileges of driving, voting, and drinking.
Milestone events can herald the accomplishments of completing education, attaining military rank, receiving job promotions or starting businessesโฆ and uniting in marriage.
Marriage comes with its own set of milestones which includes yearly anniversaries, purchasing homes and becoming parents.
For some, marriages donโt always work out and they face the milestones of separation or divorceโnot uncommon events, unfortunately.
The rest continue on in marriage for yearsโฆ even decades, but those marriages have to end tooโฆ with the loss of a spouse.
Both sets of my grandparents were married for over fifty years, as were my in-laws. My own parents were married for forty-five years before my fatherโs death.
I only got 35 years, 8 months, 13 days, and 4 hours before I lost my husband.
I am not ungrateful. I know many saw their love stories end far sooner.
I wasnโt married to reach milestones or set records.
I was just happy to have a life with a man who understood me, knew all of my quirks and many flawsโฆ and loved me, anyway.
Losing a spouse doesnโt signal the end of milestones. They may even multiply them.
I started by counting the hours and progressed on to days.
Den died on a Thursday, so it is a day I have come to loathe. I donโt have to look at a calendar to know itโs Thursday. My heart knows. I wake up every Thursday angry. But that anger is heavy and destructive. I blamed him for leaving me. I blamed the kidney disease that plagued him for years. I blamed his doctors and the dialysis center. No one was above reproach.
Including me.
Did I feed him healthy meals and made sure he got enough rest? Did I make sure he took all his meds on time? Did I miss anything? Why didnโt I fight harder and insist he keep the Urgent Care appointment I made for him the day before he died instead of giving in and canceling it as he asked? It could have saved him. And me.
And maybe it wouldnโt have. Eight hospitalizations over three years for the same issues were stacking the deck against us. Until that fateful Wednesday when everything changed, Denโs biggest complaint had alwaysโand onlyโbeen fatigue. Now I realize I didnโt know just how tired he truly was.
Our last conversation was him asking me for a pain pill and water. This made me uneasy because Den never took the prescribed pain meds. Then he said heโd nap a bit before getting ready for dialysis and insisted I go to bed too. I balked at that and we fussed for a few minutes before he said, โBabe, please.โ
I gave in and went to sleep only to wake four and a half hours later and find him gone.
Now Iโm alone meeting milestones I wasnโt ready for.
Today marks two months since Den died. I tell people Iโm okayโฆ but Iโm not. How can I be when the dynamics of my entire life have changed? How could anyone be all right after that?
People have been so kind to me but some, with their tired expressions of Time heals all wounds, It will get better in time, and the horrid Just think positive make my blood pressure rise.
Donโt ever, ever say these things to someone whoโs lost a loved one regardless of if itโs a spouse, child, parent or family pet.
Iโve apologized in my mind a thousand times for any time Iโve ever said these things to anyone. I never knew how generic, inane, and outright stupid they are until I was on the receiving end of them.
Loss induces grief and we must grieve. We cannot think or wish it away. Itโs a process we have to go through. Some people will take longer than others. There is no set time limit.
I have to say that again.
There is no set time limit for mourning a loss.
If anyone says anything like, โYou should be over it by now,โ remove them from the front row of your life. You are not accountable to them or their timetable.
Find peace and comfort in your memories and the things you loved and shared, especially your children. Though miles separate us, our three adult children have been my biggest source of strength and support since losing Den. Having them has helped keep me grounded because Iโll always be a mom.
Iโve also found comfort in browsing poetry and life sites. Many of the quotes, memes, and inspirational messages speak to my mind and emotions.
But, finding the poem Iโve posted below was like a gut punch not just because it spoke directly to my heartโฆ but because it sounds exactly like something my pragmatic husband would say.
We watched the movie, Titanic, together many times. Without fail, near the end when Rose tells Jack sheโll โnever let go,โ Den would smirk and say something like, โIโll take Causes of Mental Instability for $500, Alex.โ (He was quite a character!)
Weโd banter back and forth each time as I tried to explain the depth of Jackโs love for Rose was so great, he was willing to sacrifice himself so she lived. Heโd come back with, โExactly. The man is giving up his life so she can have oneโฆ and thatโs exactly what sheโs supposed to do. Live.โ
I hated it when he was right.
The movies make it all seem so simple. Real lifeโฆ not so much.
I know I have to let Den go. One day. But not now. Iโm not there yet.
Itโs another of lifeโs milestones Iโm working toward.

(I wish I knew the author of this beautiful, simple poem. I’d love to give them a big hug.)
Image from Pinterest
Next week will be two months since I lost Den, and the last ten days have been the worst since the day my life changed forever.
Insomnia, memory lapses, indecision, and the mother of all Fibromyalgia flare-ups only serve to exacerbate my grief and leave me unable to move forward… or at all.
There are bright spots when my sons pop up giving me a reason to laugh… and cook, or my daughter calls from the midwest and I remember how blessed I am to be a mom.
But they have lives and their own grief to work through, and as much as I love having them home, I don’t need or want a babysitter.
Not that they haven’t tried, bless their hearts. Their love and support mean everything, but this part of the journey–transitioning from wife to widow–I have to do alone.
So far, I suck at it. Den would not be pleased. He said I was the most stubborn woman on the planet and I bull-dozed obstacles out of my way. Actually, he called me cantankerous.
Who uses that word in the 21st Century?
My late husband, Lord of the Geeks.
So, I must do better.
I have to stop fighting the grief. I must allow the pain to wash over and through me. It will never be washed away, but enough will be spent so the love we shared can fill me and lift me up and help me to move on.
Just as it did for the last thirty-five years.
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Image from Pinterest
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