Yesterday I felt wrecked. My hair in tangles from the wind, my throat dry, never quite warm enough to be comfortable. The bereavement group I attended left me feeling rattled. What do I do with that box of videos on my garage shelf that may or may not contain footage of Dan? Will there be some future day when I sit on the couch with the curtains drawn, fast-forwarding through past moments when I didn't even know him? What do I do with Dan's computer? What would I search for there? Is compartmentalizing a good thing or a bad thing? How do we mourn a loved one's continued absence while acknowledging that we've moved on? How do we live inside the gratitude for that love and translate that into living each day going forward? There were answers to those questions. Just not an answer. And what about all the grief in that room? How does each of us carry it? The box of kleenex that gets shoved from one end of the table to another seems like a metaphor, but I can't quite put it into words.
By bedtime last night, still a bit teary-eyed, I shivered under a tower of blankets, figuring I was coming down with something.
This morning I woke up feeling well. Better than well.
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| Not today's actual surfer--but a previous day's surfer. Just in case someone recognizes this guy and he's supposed to be at work. |
6 comments:
You ask some really good questions. Would Dan's children like the videos? The computer?
Oh honey. Grief just doesn't end, does it? It crops up in so many different ways.
I am glad you are feeling better today, physically, at least.
Oh, Denise. What a powerful post. xoxo Barbara
beautiful post.
great caption for the surfer that should have been working.
but what is that thing in the first picture? A giant earring hook? A gigantuous spermatozoon?
I think this modern age that gives us videos and computers that we have to worry over actually prolongs the grieving process. Having a wake in times past, sitting Shiva, the Navajo traditional rite of being with the family for four days after putting the body up high in the rocks and never mentioning the dead's name again might all be better ways of getting it all out and letting it all go. I don't know, it's certainly up to you. Hard call. But as I remember Dan saying about any difficult decision I was struggling with, he'd say something that meant, "Whatever you decide will be the right decision, will be perfect." I miss him, bless him.
So much that is beautiful and so many metaphors so skillfully woven in this post. I especially loved the last bit. I am certain that you will figure out your freedom as you are one of the most open-hearted people I've ever met.
I heard something the other do: When we don't know what to do, do nothing until the right action presents itself. you don't have to decide these things immediately. unless of course they are weighing on you in a way you cannot put back on the shelf. i used to be the primary caregiver for my aunt. when i wasn't anymore i felt guilty at my freedom, and sad at my relief from the endless things to take care of. i miss her.
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