Acquainted With Grief

       I started a blog many years ago, written by me and occasionally my sweet husband, Chris.    After a Facebook post where I declared we had survived the "longest day ever" we faced many more long such days, weeks and months.   The blog became a way to communicate to friends and family about the challenges that we were facing.   At the time it was an ICU stay for tracheal stenosis (a narrowing of his airway)  which was an unexpected result of a surgery for his brain tumor.    He ended up needing a trach during that stay and was told he would likely never speak again.    But, that wasn't the end of our troubles.   Five months later he was diagnosed with multiple myeloma, a rare incurable blood cancer.   With that came kidney failure and dialysis, neuropathy, septic shock and more.   It brought us closer together than we could have ever imagined.   

     Then a month ago, we were just getting readjusted to life back at home after almost two months in the hospital.   He had been released barely able to walk, and had overcome so much in the weeks since returning home.   He had progressed from needing a walker, to a cane, to walking on his own in such short time.   Life for a moment was good.   One morning when I woke up early and I couldn't sleep, I snuggled next to him waking him up.   I apologized and he tenderly told me not to, it was the best way to wake up.   But then everything came crashing down.   He was admitted to the ICU with a cold and a day later, he passed away.  Of a common cold!       

      I don't know how I've survived the past month, but somehow I have.    I've taken things one moment at a time, struggling to think beyond the next day.  The first night I fell asleep to a TikTok of his, grateful to hear his voice.   The first two weeks were busy.   I visited the funeral home, greeted by friends (and former neighbors) who help people through that difficult step in life.   I picked out a casket, burial plots and pulled together a lot of details for a beautiful service.   I was able to put together a tribute of his amazing life and somehow myself survive the visitation and funeral.   I've been comforted by numerous family and friends, who also are mourning the loss of a son, brother, nephew, uncle, friend.   Hearing from others the difference he made in their lives gave me greater appreciation of the man I love.    

       In all our marriage, we've spent only a handful of nights apart.   We married when I was young and have been inseparable ever since.   I've been blessed to be by his side at nearly every doctor visit and hospital stay.   We are one and now he watches over me from heaven.   My heart aches to hear his heart, my ears long to hear his voice, my skin longs to feel his touch.   I miss him SO much!   I love him so much.   

     Christmas Eve marked three weeks of his passing.   I had known that Christmas Day was going to be difficult, but was unprepared for the heartache of thinking of our last moments together.  People have said that the year of "Firsts" is going to be difficult, but I wasn't prepared for just how difficult it would be to think of the "lasts" as well.  As I think about next year I just feel lost.  

       Not only am I grieving the companionship of my sweetheart, but suddenly I've gone from years of not enough time in the day to accomplish all I need to do, to days and nights which seem endless.   No longer will I need to get him to medical appointments or manage his medications.   The nurses, doctors therapists, and pharmacists that have become family are suddenly gone from my life.   Replaced instead, for the time being, with countless tasks of figuring out how to wrap up all of the loose ends.     Behind me I've completed some difficult hurdles like returning home, sleeping in our bed, being alone for periods of time.   Even simple tasks like driving in a car are difficult.   I often look over at his empty seat, stick my hand out and imagine that he's there holding it like he always would.   All things considered, I think I've come along way.   But ahead there's an enormous challenge of figuring out how to survive on my own.   

     For New Year's I was blessed to spend the weekend with his thoughts.   For nearly 30 years I have been written in my journal each night, and for several years I convinced him to do the same.   There are many tender entries, like this one.   He was going through extreme pain and facing his own mortality.   But as always, his thoughts were filled with concern and love for me.   It was difficult for us both to even think about, let alone talk about life apart. But somehow in the quiet moment of writing in a journal he was able to put his thoughts in words.   

    I've realized now more than ever that writing is therapeutic for me.   It's a way that I've been prepared to make it through this difficult time.   I knew when he passed away that I wouldn't continue the blog.  But after much thought I decided that I would start a this one.   For those who choose to read it, a glimpse into a life of grief and mourning.   But for me, in the future, a way to look back of how far I've come and what I've been able to overcome.  My uncle caught this picture of me at the visitation.  Alone for a moment in my thoughts and sorrows.   When I look at it, I see the face of someone who is acquainted with grief.   

     However, he also took this picture, just moments apart.  My trademark dimples are there, and I'm smiling.   Today marks one month of his passing and like many other days, it was tough.   The past month has had tears, lots of tears.  There have been difficult nights and long days.   But along the way there has also been light and hope.   Moments where I could feel him near.   Such gratitude for my knowledge that we are married for eternity.   Appreciation for the light and love that he brought to my life.  Many moments of reflection of the twenty two wonderful years of marriage.    

     So while the future seems difficult, an entry that he wrote in the days prior to his brain surgery, almost eight years ago, he leaves me with instructions.   "I do expect her to be happy".   That is a tall order, and one that will take time.  There is no doubt about it, this year is going to be difficult.  But knowing he wants me to be happy gives me guidance in what to look for.