Knowing where one is in life!

My newest friend who is in the same LIFE-RAFT with me, wrote me an email recently and said, "I know where I am and it really sucks but I might as well get used to it." Her husband died suddenly mid-August. I was so surprised and envious of her statement. I don't think I was that lucid and knowing - one month after Bruce had died. In fact, I think I had just REALIZED that he was dead and not coming back. And was just plain mad!
Her down-to-earth approach about her dilemma makes total sense to me. And, yet...maybe she too will have slips of realization, steps back in time and wanting it to all be like it was. Because, that is how it was for me. Sometimes I still am that way.

We are going to form a support group here in our town. Two other gals who have been in the LIFE-RAFT a bit longer than Diane and myself are helping me get this off of the ground. They, I believe are in the front of the boat. This entire LIFE RAFT thought has been in my fore-thinking recently. I feel like I am bobbing on this sea of life up and down, just like that feeling you have when you are out on a big body of water. When you can't see the shore, not knowing in which direction you are really heading or where one is going to land. I know where I am at, and that I am safe, but I don't know what the future is going to hold. And, that is what bothers women like myself and my new friend, Diane.

We felt so safe in our relationships. The common everyday safeness married couples feel. Like, how you will see one another again at the end of the day, that there will be a tomorrow, and that your common dreams and goals are being fulfilled. When death strikes - the survivor is like a fish out of water and all other similar analogies. One half of who we were is no longer there.

No one prepares themselves for this I believe. Instead, we act much like how the general public acts. IGNORING what may happen to our better/other half and putting off talking about important subject matter. Just like Bruce and I did all last fall and the summer before that, etc. Even though I was worried and had a suspicion that something wasn't right, rarely did I convey my worries to him. Instead, I delved into my work, my life, my studies. I, at times actually made fun of his health and confess now, was a sarcastic snob (on occassion) Yes, I am very human! These manuevers that one does to get through our days are; I now believe, what one has to do to survive our life sitautions we find ourselves in.

Three of us widows met for dinner on Friday evening. Sitting in a booth at a local restaurant, we found ourselves between smiles, laughter, tears and much empathy for one another, especially for the newest member in our "club". Our conversation ranged from feelings we have, our love we had for our husbands, casket viewing, stone markers and reliving our individual death experiences. As we ate and visited, we couldn't help wonder what the other patrons were thinking if they were overhearing bits and pieces of our conversations. It usually isn't what one wants to think about on a TGIF night over dinner is it?

Sunday, I went with a friend to an art fair. She too, has suffered a loss. Her grief experience being one of a mom is different than mine, but ... as we walked through the different booths we were both looking for things for the gravesite. She said, "isn't it funny how we are still shopping for them?" I found three things. I bought a little hat for baby Avery. I found a colored glass wind-chime thing for myself that has a copper dragon-fly and a bell on the end. The dragon-fly has come to represent death and it's transformation to me. ( I received a card with a story about it that has helped comfort me about Bruce's new existance ) And then, I found something that brought me to tears. It was a garden stake with one word written in cursive at the top. It was perfect. As I saw it, I immediately knew I had to get it to put out in the cemetary with Bruce. It WAS Bruce..It defined him in so many ways. This one simple everyday common word elicited my deepest feelings for Bruce. Even now, as I press on the keyboard, my eyes well with tears of love. The word is LAUGH! Bruce's laughter filled the room. He had a gut cackling laugh that got louder the more it spewed out of his mouth. It was breathy and deep. I loved his laughter, except of course when we were out in public at some venue where his laugh would take up more space than was politically correct. One time we were in Las Vegas at a small comedy club and the comedian was up on stage making us laugh. Bruce was laughing at his jokes and he directly looked at Bruce and mimimicked Bruce's laugh! Many of our friends and family know what I am talking about with his signature laugh. One time at my folks, Bruce laughed so hard, he fainted, falling off their bar stool - it scared me to death! He just lay there a brief half-minute, opened his eyes and said, "What happened?!" Maybe today, I will take it out to the cemetary. It is a rainy on and off sort of Fall day. The kind of day, that seems a fitting day to put the word LAUGH out in a cemetary don't you think?

Last night I attended a Grief Group with my new friend. She had told me about it and very matter-of-factly that she was going! Her husband died one month ago and she was already diving into a grief group. Bruce has been gone for 7 months and even though many people have suggested I go, I have put it off. I of course, felt I was grieving just fine by myself. Sometimes even suggestions from others seem like I am being told what to do. The real truth of the matter, is I don't like to go places by myself. I would rather stay home than go somewhere by myself. But, I didn't want her going alone, so I volunteered to "go with her"... one of my favorite roles in life is a supporter!! Lance, my son asked me where was I going when he saw me reapplying makeup. I told him in a reluctanct manner, that I was attending this grief group, it is Christian based. And, that I wasn't excited about going. Because of confidentiality, I can't tell you all that I experienced. There were about 10 men and women there and 2 facillitators. Some were like me and my friend, who have lost our husbands. Some have lost a young adult child to all sorts of deaths. All of our stories are different, but we share one thing in common, we have all lost someone who we loved and cared for deeply. It will be every week for 12 weeks. I do plan to go back and even think I could go alone. I know most of what I hear isn't going to be new. But, it will give me an even stronger and broader foundation that I can fall back on as I go forward in my life.

Journaling was brought up last evening at the grief meeting. I know for me, it has been like an oar that I can pick up and put in my hands and move my boat along if I so choose. I see my progress as I sign-in to my account. Each month, as I move out beyond the date of Bruce's death, I see I have blogged less. Whether I have less to say, is another subject matter. But the need to say what I am saying is lessening.

I continue to be supported and loved, feeling so connected to so many people who have been in my life forever. And yet, I am picking up new friends whom I would have never met had it not been for me losing Bruce. This was something that Diane and I realized as we said good-bye last night. This tapestry of existance we all share is just that. Fibers of beings crisscross one another in ways that may only become clear sometime in our forever future. For now, life is happening. Little Avery is moving and squiggling in my lap - kicking at the keyboard and my hands. Yes, she is in my liferaft with me. This is today. Enjoy yours too. Deb