( warning, my language gets colourful at times )
I wrote my last blog about the "firsts," which has led me this week to all the "others." My partner's wedding anniversary was a few days ago; he said the first and second had gutted him, now years later, it still hurts, maybe even worse; it doesn't make sense to him; he stated that perhaps its because you aren't expecting it and each year should get easier. It doesn't.
I feel year 1 and 2, possibly even 3, is about asking ourselves; it seems every minute, is this really happening? How can this be happening? No, this isn't happening.
And then once you pass that, maybe year five, which is where Glen or me at year 7, it's simply this:
Fuck, yes, this is happening. The shock and disassociation have levelled out.
This journey, perhaps, is more intense due to the fact that it's not just me surfing the grief journey; the man I love is as well. Many have commented that it must be easier to begin a relationship because we have "been" there. I am never sure what to say to that, as it's not something you can take a course on or read a book. You stumble along the best you can. Glen was told at the beginning by his counsellor that if he was going to date, stay away from widows, as they would trauma bond. It's like swimming out to save someone, and they drag you down. Not intentionally, but the grief work hasn't been done. Not that grief work is ever "done," but grieving for me is an action, so any movement forward is a celebration.
Is it easier because we know grief? Perhaps, it's also devastating for me to watch him in pain. To feel it as deeply as him, and because I'm a few years further down the line knowing what he hasn't yet reached.
So we continue; it's no longer a first; for him, it would have been 28 years of marriage; this coming weekend is my oldest 23rd birthday; she was 15 when her father died. She is an entirely different human now, as every 7-10 years, our body's cells replace themselves. Sorry geek moment. Which means so am I, as are her two younger sisters. And the weekend after her birthday is the 24th wedding anniversary, that isn't it. The last we celebrated together was 15.
Just as I am sure the sun will rise in the morning, I know the milestones and the dates will continue. I know that pretending it doesn't hurt slows your healing down. We all have our journey, and even the speed of that changes on a daily, sometimes hourly, basis. Would I change a thing with all the firsts and the others, the tears, the pain? If I do that, it also erases all the beauty Godfrey brought to me in my life.
Not a fucking chance.
Comentários