Wednesday, 7 January 2015

learning to love the life I have

Its been some time since my dearest Anita died (it was in August 2012). I have learned many things since that time and while I still feel her loss deeply I have some things to share which may be of benefit (or may not).

Perhaps I was lucky to be struck with a post operative infection from a heart valve replacement surgery (which was performed 6 months or more before she passed away), but with no sense or irony I say that having to struggle for my life - wanting to be dead but not being dead - becoming aware of getting better and (out of habit) fighting to struggle for regaining my personal fitness has proven beneficial.

Like joining the "Foreign Legion" to forget a broken heart the struggle to survive (even reflexively) has shown me that I go on. It has also perhaps helped me to accept in some ways that is not altogether bad.

Most certainly I have many down days, where I just lay on the couch in my not at work times. I avoid doing things which I know should be done. I feel pain at doing things (which we did together) alone.

However I have come to see that while there is sadness and loneliness there are actually glimpses of happiness and on occasions I feel OK about those things which are not related to what we shared together.

Questions

I have reflected a LOT on things including what would happen if by a miracle she appeared alive at home and we could start again. Would I still be able to be the happy person she loved or would my suffering have made me into a person whom she would grow tired of?

If we are to meet in the after life I feel that it is my job in this life to heal myself to be that person whom she loved and respected.

If there is no after life then what harm can come from healing myself in preparation for our (it won't happen) meeting anyway?

my only answer so far

I have come to feel that the pain and fatigue that I feel in the memory of her and what has gone before her death is simply a burden I should carry. I should carry it for I am the primary vessel of her memory and of her spirit in this world.

A song came to my mind some time back by Bob Scott: He ain't heavy, he's my Brother.


I feel now that the burden I feel in her loss and absence is made more profound for me simply because I have no training in carrying it.

Like all fitness training, it just takes time and will power to become strong enough to be able to "lift that weight" or "run that marathon" or "do that maths".

So I do not try to turn away from the pain, or down play the love that I still feel for her. Instead I try to carry that with me and still be able to bring the memories of her to our friends without being struck down. Without making everyone feel uncomfortable.

I've been trying to walk this path for a year now, and while I'm still in training I am getting stronger. There are times when I can laugh with my friends about things we (meaning all of us including my wife) shared.

So while it is indeed "a long and winding road" to "who knows where" I thought I would share this with you so that any who are reading this and suffering grief of your own you can also pick up your load and carry that love forward.

The love we shared should not be a thing which can be overwhelmed by just her passing. She ain't heavy ... she's my lover.

I wish you peace.

1 comment:

PJ McKenna said...

That was beautiful. I'm sorry for your loss.