Rest in Peace

My dear sweet husband,
My heart still aches.  I still miss you.  I still love you.  I still cry for you.  May you watch over us and be proud of the legacy you left behind.

Birthday wishes. . .

Sending birthday wishes to heaven today.
Death may have taken you to another place,
but you will forever be in my heart.

Fiddlesticks

It hit on Sunday, and it has not been this bad for years.

Yes, years.

Grief is back, the big G-R-I-E-F.
I mean the kind of grief that sneaks upon you, slugs you in the stomach, collapses you and squeezes your heart until it explodes.  The kind of grief that creates primal animal noises from your gut.  The kind of grief that leaves your eyes raw and red.  The kind of grief that smothers you so you cannot breathe.  That kind of grief.

The big one is coming.
It is bringing me much reflection and for the first time,  survivors guilt*! 



*(that is one of the grief stages I haven't dealt with yet!)

Preventable. . .

“Excessive alcohol use is a leading cause of preventable death that kills many Americans in the prime of their lives,” said Ursula E. Bauer, the CDC's director of Chronic Disease Prevention and Health Promotion.(1)

Interesting article that I would like to pass on:  Excessive Alochol Use Kills 1 in 10, Deseret News online.  I have always said that Joe's death was 100% preventable.  Alcohol caused deaths are 100% preventable.  We spend so much money researching ways to prevent deaths from cancer and heart disease, and yet we have a cure for a leading cause of death!  It is remarkable to me how we can raise so much money for "cures" and ignore this cause of death and "ignore" it's cure.

(1) Cortez, Marjorie, "Excessive Alochol Use Kills 1 in 10" Deseret News, published online, Friday, June 27 2014 7:54 p.m. MDT.

Memorial Day Weekend. . .Remembering. . .

Kemmerer Republican 31 May 1918 pg 1:

“Until noon a continual stream of automobiles 

wended toward the local cemeteries, 

where the graves of loved ones were decorated.”

RS Rocket 4 June 1909 page 1:

“There were many besides who took flowers 

to lay upon the graves of loved ones, 

and the day was given over with reverence to the boys in blue 

and the citizens who visited the silent city.”

Strength from Pearls

Jackie Kennedy Onassis

(source)

 

 On the morning of Joe's funeral, my head just kept saying, "I can't do this." 

Then, in my mind's eye I could see Jackie Kennedy with her two small children

at her husband's funeral proceedings. 

I remember seeing those many pictures of her bravery as the whole world watched.

I thought to myself:

if she can do it, so can I.

 

(source)

 

I put on my single pearl necklace, and my pearl stud earrings--

my strength for the day to bury my husband.

 

A couple of years later for Christmas I bought myself a strand of pearls:

a necklace,bracelet, and earrings. 

A visual reminder of how strong I really am.

 

 

It is amazing what we can endure when we are called up to endure it.

Thankful for. . .

knowing he loved me.

This morning as I have thought about my many blessings I am reminded of an event that took place at the cemetery.

I was at the cemetery visiting Joe's grave, when I saw a newly-widowed friend.  After a few minutes, I walked over to this friend.  We shared the difficulties of being widowed and the harshness of death, when she suddenly and sadly said to me, "At least you knew that Joe loved you.  I never knew for sure he loved me."

Yes, I knew Joe loved me and I am so thankful that I was able to experience the best and most special love that can exist between two people.  A love that included friendship and respect.  A sacred love that reaches through death and lives eternally.

I am grateful that I worked at our relationship, that I respected our relationship and that I endured to the end; because now I have the sweet memories of a successful true love to savor the rest of my life.

I am very blessed indeed.

He still brings me flowers!

Last summer when I visited Joe's grave look what I found growing on my side of the headstone!

If you know me and know how much I worked to teach him to bring me flowers, you know this is a big deal!

Quote

Life is much bigger than just a body.  When you are grieving over the loss of a loved one, sense the presence of their soul, which is always with you, instead of the personality that is gone. 

—Oprah Winfrey

Grief

In his blog, Tom Zuba questions:  Are there really 5 stages of grief?  He goes on to write:
"If you are working with a therapist, counselor, social worker, grief expert, minister, priest, or anyone else who is trying to help you navigate the wilderness of grief and they start talking about
Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’ 5 stages of grief
denial
anger
bargaining
depression
and acceptance
suggesting that there is a linear, predictable order to grief please, please, please do yourself a favor and run as far away from that person as fast as you can.  That “expert” does not know grief."

I totally agree and could not have said it better, but then Mr. Zuba really hits it home when he describes:
"Grief is wild,
and messy
and unpredictable
and uncertain
and ever-changing and unsettling
and unnerving."

Agreed!  It is so ironic because, at one point I was thinking of the five stages of grief and I had decided that my grief process was more like a combination of the five stages and crying.  My grief is like water colors bleeding into each other; emotions running into each other and clouding each other.  My grief has been a combination of grief stages.   (...and you know, I never really went through one of the commonly accepted stages...hummmmm...better check into that!)

Here are MY 5 stages of grief:

Tear---watery eyes and maybe one tear gently down the cheek.
Tears---a couple of tears escape before you realize it, and roll gently down your cheek.
Sob---tears that you cannot stop along with a lump in your throat.
Sobs---crying and tears that you cannot stop, usually pretty ugly--red nose, red eyes and blotchy face.
Grief cry--that gut wrenching primal cry that sounds like death itself.  It makes you lightheaded, nauseated, and weak.  Quickly followed by the fetal position.


Here's Tom Zuba's blog post I refer to above.

Pain & Sufferin'

Selling the pain & sufferin'

I bought it to help ease my pain and sufferin'.  

I bought it because I needed

 to be safe on the rode and I needed a worry-free vehicle.

Oh yeah, I got lost in the heated, adjustable seats that hugged me every time I got in.  I drove sporty.  I talked on the Bluetooth, jammed to the stereo system, and depended on the navigation system!

Each person who looked at the Beamer with envy, I would quickly remind them of the price---my husband's life.  

Envy, immediately gone!

Unfortunately, the plan I had for the car was not the reality and the worry-free car began to worry me.  No longer fitting into my plan, it was time to trade in "my pain & sufferin'".  Surprisingly, it was easy, because I am no longer where I was and I am in a new place.  Moving on and moving forward...healing...

Through my eyes. . .

. . .things look much different today. Death has a way of changing and challenging your beliefs, values, and faith. After seeing your husband in a casket, your eyes see things different. Your whole belief system is shaken, your whole thought process is rocked, and your view of this life is through different colored glasses. You either run to God, or run from God, but it is in that moment, standing at the casket, you really decide what you believe in.

From that day forward you are suddenly walking down, the same path, but with different perspective. There is no going back; 

the innocence is gone, 

this IS what life IS about---what happens after death.

We have one shot at our lives.  We have one shot at living it the way we BELIEVE is best. 

What happens to those who die, and what happens to those who continue to live?  How do we handle it?


I just know this:
you CANNOT love someone with your WHOLE heart,
live with them,
adapt to them,
and give them of yourself,
and then not miss them
every
single
minute
of every
single
day.

There is no getting over this grief.
There is no recovery from this hurt and pain.
This hurt is a constant reminder of how I loved him;
with my whole heart
and how he loved me;
with his whole heart.

And I BELIEVE I will see him again,
and he will hold me,
and we will NEVER be apart again!

Healing--the Yaw Marks are Gone!

I didn't realize how much better I would feel traveling down Highway 6 when the "yaw" marks were covered over! 
Who knew? 
It has always been difficult, however, it is very symbolic to have "new" pavement where my sweetheart died.

 Thank you UDOT!

 New asphalt covering the yaw marks. . .

I can almost hear him whisper, 

"it was beautiful place to die"!

Pictures

I have been sorting and arranging pictures.  This is NOT easy when every time you are around pictures they bring up happy memories and you are reminded, those days and times are gone. 
Grief is depressing, lonely, and tough.
I miss the reminiscing
I miss making the memories
I miss the analytical conversations
I miss the spiritual conversations
I miss the verbal encouragement
I miss the silent encouragement
I miss every single part of the wonderful man that he was
I miss laughing with him
I miss feeling safe
I miss knowing I'm safe
I miss the companionship

It is so scary that a beautiful life can be extinguished in such a reckless moment.  It is so scary how devastating and destructive death can be upon the living.  I guess it will either make you or break you, but either way, you are never the same after you have been stung by the sting of death.

Tender Friend

A couple of weeks ago, I worked with a lady at the library.  While helping her I came to know she was 13 months widow.  With tears in her eyes she confided, no one ever tells you how difficult this is. 

Nope, they don't.

Because there are no words that convey the feelings, loneliness, and pain that consumes you.

Because who really wants to hear such negativity and grief?

Because "they" may just be looking into "their" future, and that is scary.

That is why I add these posts to my blog.  I do not ever want anyone who knows me to think it was easy for me.  It is not.

I don't blog for the pity or for the sympathy, I blog to let it out and let it go.  I blog because there are not very many people in my age group who understand.  I blog to someday somehow help someone else.
 
I saw this dear lady at the Library this past Saturday, my dear sweet friend, who is just as sad and lonely as I am in this crowded noisy world.

If You Could Hie to Kolob

I rarely listen to music on the radio.  It has been 8 1/2 years, and it is still difficult.  Music brings me back to times and places that are still very tender in my heart.  You know the songs.

But, I am getting stronger, so I turned on the radio and listened to the "oldies" station and reminisced to some old tunes on the way into the Library Saturday morning.

By the time I arrived, my eyes were moist, but my heart was happy and light.

Then for our opening song in prayer meeting we sang the first and fifth verse of "If You Could Hie to Kolob."

The last verse hit me very hard, and as strong as I think I have gotten, I was quickly reminded it all is still very painful.

The words in the 5th verse are what I want desperately. . .someday. . .


There is no end to glory;

There is no end to love;

There is no end to being;

There is no death above.

Text: William W. Phelps, 1792-1872 
Source:  LDS Hymns

It’s hard to drive forward, looking in the rear view mirror

Widowhood is difficult because you are trying to move forward with life and the rest of the world, but your thoughts, dreams, memories and heart all remain in the yesterday. 

One difficult aspect of moving forward is all of the tugs physically and emotionally pulling me backwards.  Every day I wake up and the calendar and time meanders forward, and the world moves onward.  Everything around me moves with the current of progression, but I am like the sand bar in the middle of a fast moving river.  I watch everyone and everything rush past me…going forward…living…growing…but I am stuck…I am the ridge in the middle of the river, holding still…catching debris…listening to the rush and watching the bustle…I am stuck…held back…immobile…

As I have tried to take steps to move forward, I feel him near me; I feel him surround me and be with me and I am reminded of the past days and past memories of him.  I am reminded he is not part of today or tomorrow.  I am pulled backwards into yesterday and of being with him.

As I have tried to flow forward with the river, my dreams are taken over by his presence, actions, voice and touch; I awake and am reminded of the past, feelings, hopes, and dreams.  I am left with the sweetness of being with him, but the void of his true presence in the here and now.

A song on the radio will shock me back to yesterday in a split second.  A flash of a memory will hijack me to the past.  Anniversaries, holidays and birthdays all transport me to what was. 

It’s difficult to live forward when I keep getting pushed backwards into yesterday.  It is like walking against a strong head wind every.single.day…it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that it is impossible too.

Good Grief

Yesterday I ran across this article on KSL: 

Inability to cope with loss may lead to heart disease

 

Here is what I have to say about it: 

 

No Kidding, you don't just feel like you can die from a broken heart, but you really can!

Deathaversary

It's 8 years ago.

And it's yesterday.

Calculations

While I was getting my nails done, I glanced up at the clock.  I mentally calculate; I could be outta here by 12:15 and at the library by 12:30.  Good then I can research until 4:30; 4 hours research.  Then I see Oct. 5.  I automatically calculate again: I have 20 days to get Joe an anniversary gift. 

Maybe it was all the nail polish fumes.

Maybe it was the relaxing pedicure.

Maybe it was just for one brief minute I forgot.

My eyes saw the date "Oct 5" and my mind calculated.

Seriously!

How can one spend EVERY-SINGLE-DAY-AND-NIGHT for the past almost 8 years grieving and in one single unsuspecting second forget!?!?!

My calculations slap me in the face. . .

Suddenly I cannot run and hide anymore. . .

The lump in my throat is because it is October. . .
Then
it
will
be
November!

As I sat in church yesterday, I wanted to bolt...now there is an "old-familiar-never-want-to-experience-again" feeling! 
Yep, it's that time of the year!

Three recent deaths and a funeral; and here I thought I was doing alright--until that darn clock!

Welcome crisp weather, beautiful leaves, and tears!