You Grieve Like you Loved

Sunday I was visiting with a friend of mine on the phone. She lost her husband 30 months ago and still counting. As soon as she asked me how I was doing, I began to cry. Then I was able to get a hold of myself and carry on a conversation. She understands how I feel. All of these raw emotions that are sitting right under my skin seem to erupt on and off whenever. I never know what is going to push me over the edge. What reminder of my life with Bruce is going to turn on the tears. She told me that one grieves as one had loved. I had never really measured our level of love for one another. I just know that through the year, we had weathered some rough storms and made it through. Learning to forgive one another and being stubborn at the same time had kept us together through thick and thin. We always enjoyed being with one another, we lived our lives outloud and in person most days.

Yesterday I was in court. I was called as a witness for a sexual/domestic assault case that I had done last year. It was a complicated domestic abuse/sexual assault. It was a couple that wasn't in love. They shared common problems. They shared a hard life that included lots of alcohol and sex. They lived hard. There was no respect toward one another. This gal's self esteem was so low, she didn't think she was worthy of being treated like a human being. When this happened, including him trying to strangle her (which is a felony), I encouraged her to report him. She was afraid for her life. The exam I had done on her included taking photos of bite marks in unusual places, and collection of evidence just in case she decided to report. Two days later, I called her to see how she was doing. I asked her if she had reported it yet, and she said no, not yet. Then she said to me, "Why do you want to help me?" I told her, I cared about her and that she was a human being and no human being deserved to be treated like she had been treated. I was on the witness stand for over an hour yesterday. One year later, she looks much better. She is clean, has gained a little weight and is on her way to feeling better about herself. I hope he gets convicted. ... so yesterday was a heavy day. When I had finished with my testimony and was being consoled by my Sexual Assault exec. director, I was sharing a portion of what I had testified to. We began laughing about the questions we could imagine sharing with each other. All of a sudden, I thought of Bruce and what his remarks would have been on this subject. He would ask me when I would come home from a case, "Well, how did your sex case go?" sometimes I would give him the details and we would discuss them always injecting some humor along the way. As his memory appeared, I just started sobbing, tears ducts opened and I couldn't stop this "GRIEF MOMENT" that took over. Eventually I had composed myself. I am just glad that this happened during recess and not while I was up on the witness stand!

On Saturday, I was looking in his bed stand. In the last drawer, I found the two bags of Dove Chocolates where he had hidden them. He had discovered these delectables just this past fall. He and I both loved chocolate. Many a night throughout the years,m he would get a hankering for a piece of chocolate at bedtime. He would get up and go out to the freezer where he stashed a big ole Hershey candy bar, breaking off a piece for himself and another one for me to bring back to bed. Sometimes when I had a craving during the day, I would look for "his stash". Many times, I had been found guilty of eating the entire giant Hershey bar before he got one piece. He would lovingly yell at me and be mad, but not for long. I would just purchase another one the next day. When I discovered the unopened bags, one of DARK and one of MILK, I then remembered when and where he had tried to tell me their locations. He had just bought the candy prior to being hospitalized in December. When he showed me what he had bought, I told him he had to "HIDE THEM FROM ME!" The Sunday he went to the hospital, I had run home for a bit, while they were transferring him to his room and getting him admitted. As they were rolling him on the cart out of the emergency room and I was leaving, he yelled at me, "Oh Deb, the Doves are..." I immediately interrupted him, choking back the tears...and said, "Honey, I don't want to know where they are, remember?" Well, he never did tell me and I have discovered them on my own. Last night, in the night when I got up for a drink of water, I remembered them, and ate one for old times sake.

Yes, I believe our love ran pretty deep for one another. I am in for a long haul of up and down moments. I know that I just have to hang in there. I am going to savor the memories, let the tears fall where they may and eat a piece of chocolate. Maybe the bedside stand will just have to remain the candy stash drawer......Five and one-half weeks and counting!....Fondly, Deb