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I miss my “person”

Since losing Patrick I’ve kind of been on a crusade to make grief and mourning a less taboo subject. Talking about a loved one dying seems to help ease the pain. I really believe this. So why do I sometimes feel that I can’t?

There are unwritten rules in our society that tell us we should get over it and move on within some unclear amount of time. I’ve heard that people have actually made comments about this to grieving people. Thankfully no one has ever said anything like that to me but I do it to myself!!!

I have been so obsessed with this whole dating thing and I think it’s been a way to redirect my grief. To be clear, I am not dating to “replace” Patrick. He’s irreplaceable! Any new relationship will be a completely new chapter.

I do think I can replace the intimate connection that I lost. And I’m not talking about sex. What I miss more than anything is having that one person that you can talk to about anything. I have thought about this a lot because I have a lot of friends and family who care about me. My loved ones would do anything to help me and they would love to be able to fill this void. So I want to be clear that this is not something I could get from a parent, sibling, child, or friend.

If I had to, I know I could survive without having this again. I hope I don’t have to, but I do think I could have a good life without it. Many people do. I just prefer not to be alone.

The other thing I have been doing is trying to convince myself and potential partners that I am mostly done grieving. I have this idea that men might think a widow sits around crying a lot that is probably not something they would want to sign up for. It’s such a hard sell!

I think I just need to be me and quit worrying about it. Yes, I lost my husband. Yes, I am sad about it, some days more than others. Most days I still can’t believe he is gone. But I still have fun. I smile, I laugh, I LIVE. I’m just going to focus on that for a while.

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My heart is a little broken

I have never been one to put personal drama on Facebook so it’s kind of ironic that my blog gets so personal. I stand behind my commitment to keep this raw and real so here goes… my heart has been broken. I realize it was pretty fragile to begin with and that I am a little dramatic, but right now there’s a new scar.

I’m sure this probably won’t be the last time my heart is broken either. And, to be fair, it wasn’t anything major or dramatic. I’m not even 100% sure that it is completely over. This uncertainty makes me feel like a teenager, but dating in 2018 is very hard to grasp. It can be very impersonal at times and I feel like I am not very good at it.

I’ve mentioned that every dating setback kind of opens up a wound for me. This isn’t really fair to anyone I’m dating but it’s part of my baggage. I’m alone because I was widowed. When things don’t work out with someone I’m dating, I am always reminded that I wouldn’t be going through this if THAT had not happened.

I also tend to question whether I should even hope to be lucky in love again. I experienced great love. Do you get that more than once?

I’ve always been a hopeless romantic and I still am. And, just like I want to repay the acts of kindness that were done for me, it makes me happy that I might be able to give another guy the opportunity to experience the love that I did. I think I am pretty good at relationships. Most recent guy might disagree but he never really got to experience that. I think I could make the right guy very, very happy.

I even question how I react to difficult dating situations because, if I feel I am experiencing hurt or rejection, I start getting behind my protective barriers that got me through losing Patrick. This experience is allowing me to learn a lot about myself and hopefully I won’t make the same mistakes again.

Part of me just wants to burrow under the covers in my bed and live the rest of my life with the happy memories of my marriage. But that’s not really living, is it? So, I will put myself out there again, be a little vulnerable and see what happens. As I always say, I’ve already experienced the worst thing that could happen to me so what could it hurt?

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Alone in a crowd

The hardest things to write are also the easiest. There are many times when I have things to say that I’m afraid to say. So I agonize over them and try to find a way to find something to write that will be “okay”. You see, I don’t want anyone to worry about me. And I don’t want anyone to feel like they need to fix me or take care of me. So, I try to think of an acceptable topic. Or I write something that I have no intention of posting. Occasionally I just decide to go for it and write what I’m really feeling. That’s when it becomes easy because I have no trouble expressing myself when I’m being honest.

I am really lonely. I’m not alone at all. I spend a lot of time with my kids. I spent a ton of time with family today and I had a great time. I just miss having someone to share my heart with. For some reason I don’t think everyone gets this? Maybe what I had with Patrick was unique but I really don’t think so. I just had this subconscious feeling of love and security. Certainly a lot of that had to do with Patrick but some of it just comes from being in a committed relationship. I guess that I’ve had that for so long that it’s hard to function without it.

I don’t want to jump into a relationship because I’m “lonely” or I “need” someone. But it sure is hard to wait! When I first started dating I thought being a widow would almost be an asset. I know that sounds awful but I am someone who knows how to stay in a long-term, committed relationship. A lot of the people who are dating at my age have been in multiple relationships. I’m not saying that I’m better than them but I didn’t realize that it might be a barrier. Apparently it’s very intimidating.

I grew up believing in fairy tale love stories. I’m a romantic at heart. I’ve spent a lot of time this month watching the sappy Christmas love stories on the Hallmark channel. I’ve always believed in “true love” and “soul mates”. Honestly, prior to now, I might have questioned someone in my situation who could seemingly forget about their true love and move on to someone else. I’m here to tell you that it’s not that simple. Yes, I believe that Patrick is in heaven and yes, I believe we will be reunited someday. And if I find someone else I truly believe Patrick will be happy for me. I think that in heaven there is no jealousy and it’s possible to be reunited with more than one true love. And it won’t be awkward because they don’t have that there either!

I know this sounds really corny but I feel strongly that I’m not meant to be alone. I’m not going to be burdened with guilt if I find someone else. If you had asked me this before Patrick died or even right after I’m sure I would have said I could never love anyone else. I really believed that because it fit right in with the whole fairy tale concept of love. Life is not a fairy tale though. Marriages either end in divorce or death. If you think about it, there was never going to be a happy ending. What a downer, right? Most people are going to face something like this one day. You can choose to go with the sad ending or you can make it a part two, a new chapter.

That’s where I’m at right now. I know I will have a part two and I don’t think it will be a solo act. I just need to keep working on patience…

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Grief is just a place I visit

I’m fairly certain that this title is something someone else said, I’m just not that original. Regardless of who coined the phrase, I really like it. Grief really is just a place I visit, I don’t live there.

I was recently talking about the day that Patrick died, with someone who hadn’t heard the story. This is a little bit unusual for me, in fact, I can’t remember the last time it happened. I really don’t mind talking about it. I’m not sure if that is good, bad, or neither but I think it might even be part of the grieving process to revisit it once in a while. The person I was talking to seemed to be worried that I would be too upset and thought he saw my eyes tearing up. I didn’t feel like I was going to cry. I made it through that day by keeping grief at a distance and for me, that has been a workable solution. I was able to get through the story with no problem.

I’m not saying keeping grief at a distance works for everyone. For some people, that might not be a healthy solution, but it works for me. And each time I tell the story I remember little things that I was grateful for and also just the wonder and the sense that I only made it through that day because Patrick and God were watching over me. I took things in little doses. Some were a bit strong but I didn’t feel like I was hitting a brick wall. Some of the memories are a little tougher than others but each time I feel them, it gets a little easier.

I know so many people who have lost someone in the last few years and it’s amazing how we all find our own way to get through it. At times I have felt that I have not been able to support people as much as I had hoped and I’ve tried to figure out why that is. Earlier today I posted my blog from the five-month mark. In it, I mentioned the Widows Hope Facebook group that frightened me early on. I think the reason is that I have never been able to imagine myself living in Grief. I can visit but I prefer to visit Hope, Laughter, and Love. I can handle being in those places. Occasionally I stop by Struggle, Loneliness, and Doubt, but those are brief visits too. I’m not saying that this is the only way to survive. I guess the only advice I can give is to try to give yourself a break from the grief. You can visit every day but keep your visits brief.

One of my favorite places to visit is Laughter. I think I made this clear to people early on. Living with Sierra and Camille has helped. They share their father’s sense of humor and it has gotten us through many difficult times. One of our favorite things to do as a family was to visit thrift shops in San Luis Obispo and occasionally in town. Patrick liked to be a miser and he actually bought his work clothes at thrift shops. I think his employees knew this without even being told 😂😂😂. He also liked to find little treasures there and the girls loved finding clothes. I usually bought books or odd household items. A short time before he died the three of them went thrifting and decided to have a contest. They could each spend $5 and I had to judge whose item was the “Most Awesome”.

The girls bought clothing so their presentation involved coming down the stairs wearing their purchases and working hard to sell them. Camille was first and she came downstairs in this ridiculous gauzy pantsuit with patches sewn on. Clearly it was supposed to be some sort of uniform. The funny thing was that I imagined it was originally just a pantsuit. She strutted down the stairs then jumped off and pointed at the suit. As she later said, the suit spoke for itself and words weren’t required.

Sierra was next. She is also really funny and has a background in Speech and Debate as well as Mock Trial and Moot Court. So she is very persuasive! She strutted down and twirled in the most ridiculous t-shirt I have ever seen. She said that she loved that someone put in the effort to display their love of frogs by cutting out a panel and carefully sewing it into the t-shirt. Then they decided it would be a little bit more awesome to keep that extra part, cut it into fringe and add beads. I was dying at this point!

Patrick went last because he knew his would be the most awesome. He bought one of those apple parer/corer/slicers. He gave an elaborate presentation on the virtues of this handy kitchen tool. I don’t eat a ton of apples but I could see the appeal in having them so easily prepared to eat. I deemed it a good purchase but Sierra was my hands down winner. I’m not sure he ever forgave me for not choosing him! 😉

The Friday after Patrick died, Amy and the kids arrived from Nebraska (Dan arrived a little earlier), and Dawan and Tom made it home from Europe. So, the house was packed and we were all very sad. I remembered the thrift store contest and asked the girls to recreate the presentation. That was the first time our house had been filled with laughter since the nightmare began and it was awesome. After the presentation the girls shared other stories about their dad and it was exactly what we all needed. We had been grieving a bit too much and we needed a laughter break.

Like I said, Grief is a place I visit. It’s not my favorite place to go but it’s not all bad. There are good memories there as well as painful ones. And sometimes I do get a little bottled up and I need to visit Grief to let it all out. I have no trouble finding my way there but I always make it back home. If you ever have to visit, try not to stay too long.