Stages, Bad Days and Tender Mercies

I have spent the last week and a half preparing myself. Looking down the pipe at the last 364 days and dreading the one year anniversary of my husband's untimely death. This is not the kind of fun spring break you might imagine yourself having. Not ever having done it before the whole process of being a grieving widow is new to me, and the main thing that I have allowed myself is to experience whatever it is that I feel, without self judgement or condemnation. That is something that is difficult for me to do, since holding myself to the highest standard is the common expectation. I have tried to be honest and real with myself and others about what is going on in my journey with death. Wanting to blog about the whole experience, it just has come to me what I should to say to not just those who wonder, "how do you do it" but to my analytical self. Now, this comes with a qualifier of course, because how I do it will not be the same as anyone else, and how they do it. Not only are all of our lives unique, all of our death experiences are also unique, and as individuals with different experiences, none of us can have the same journey.
That being said, I thought that I would share my observations. So many people are told upon death of a loved one that there are "stages". This is supposed to be a guide to help you chart your own progress through the grieving process, or to help others identify where you are. I hate these kind of measures because they are data based on assumptions about all people taken from a small pool. However,at first it was reassuring when I knew that although I had no way to know what I was going to do or how I would progress that there was a chart to follow that would tell me exactly what I needed to be doing. Sadly, I was a bit idealistic. There may be stages of death, but I have to think that they also are different for everyone. So, it was not the denial stage that I entered into or the anger stage or the acceptance stage. It was simply a giant void, that I navigated sometimes on autopilot, hoping to catch my breath. Again, we all have different ways, and maybe others would choose differently, but I slowly began to form ideas about how to move on. I decided I could not judge others, for wanting to make me happy, for judging me, for anything- I realized the importance of that statement in a way that gave me a whole new outlook, even though it is still difficult to do. I chose to accept myself and my situation in this place, and look at it from a 'where do I go now' point of view instead of a 'what do I do' point of view. I began to try to do things that I felt like would help me to bring closure to the relationship body that I had been a part of and to branch out into the new place that was just me. All of these things were difficult, and brought new levels of sadness, and understanding in my journey.
Just as I began to make progress, the month would end and a new one would roll around, bringing with it the number day that my husband was declared dead. This has usually been followed by a few days before and a few days after with an extra feeling of mourning, an especially weepy and sad time. I called it the "bad day" and even if I thought I had forgotten about it, it would sneak up on me and the next thing I knew I was crying to an NPR report, or a commercial. As I recognized that pattern I took some precautions to help ease the difficulty, but the past 12 bad days (one for each month) have all been bad. That leads me to my main point. It is all bad. Every day, every time you think about the one that you love that is gone, it is bad. Eventually I am told that you remember more good than bad, and that it is not "as bad". That may be true. This past week although not good, was not the super bad week or super bad day that I thought the one year anniversary would be, proving again that I really have no idea how to navigate my own journey. It did make me realize that the quality and quantity of loss really doesn't fluctuate as much, it is pretty standard. My realizations of the loss, the sudden triggering of a memory does change, and that is when things come to the forefront of my mind. As a matter of fact, I would have to say that some days, some situations are very good. Watching my boys do something really amazing, or cute is still good. Colored maybe with a gray haze, but still good. And, choosing life, as I have already shared, is about looking around and grabbing onto those moments. Every time I miss him, and wish for his presence I am both saddened that he is gone and driven to make sure that the things he loved, and enjoyed doing are made evident for my children, for my friends, for me. So, even though the month day is a hard one, I think that overall it is just a daily progression.
This post wouldn't be complete without a comment on the tender mercies of friends and family. No matter what your death experience is, there will be those who comfort you, those who do what they can and those who clumsily try but only end in making you remember sadly. Mix it all up together and you have the people around you. This past year has been a kind but gentle breeze of love for my life. Friends who reach out, and maybe say nothing about loss, but gently embrace my spirit with love have been important to me. Kind words of encouragement from family, and actions of generosity from them have nursed my path. It does not really matter, I don't think, how people reach out to you when you are in this sort of situation- it is the reaching, that is most important. Some people have shared memories of John with me, that I did not know or had not heard, and he is that thing to them that he never was or will be to me.
In loss, great or small, we each have a private journey, and yet it is a journey that belongs to all of us, all humanity. Every person that knew the loved one feels it, and we do not need to quantify a greater or lesser loss. It is simply that, a loss. This year, there was a loss of a great human being, and its consequences have reached into all of our realities, all of our hearts. I would not have been able to take the walk that I have made into this place without depending on the kindnesses of those around me. We are all bound together in the births and deaths of those we love.