Friday, October 8, 2010

I Want to Hold Your Hand

Our hands.

Mine, holding his.

Lately my real time life keeps getting intersected with my blog writing. I don't know what it is, or why it is happening, but it seems that suddenly people are talking to me about my writing. Friends, family, and new acquaintances, are mentioning that they are reading my blog, then reach out, in words, to support me.

Comforting. Yes. Yet, I am also aware of this making me feel quite vulnerable. For the first time since beginning my writing, I am feeling quite exposed. People have asked me at times during the past year, if I felt too exposed. Many stated that they could never do what I do, as to much of what I write feels too private. This kind of conversation makes me come back to the reason why I am here.

Why am I here?

In about 10 days it will be my wedding anniversary, and it will also mark the one year anniversary of the beginning of this blog. It is making me stop to ask myself, why am I writing? I know why I began writing, but why do I write today? I have never gone back to read any of my past posts. It is something that I don't really want to revisit. I have a cognitive memory of the pain and devastation that I felt, and my heart it not ready to remember those days. Yet one thing is clear to me, I don't remember wondering what people thought. I don't remember feeling over exposed, and I don't remember giving it a second thought.

I'm now realizing that I was so very numb at the time. I was in shock, as my whole being had been traumatized. These days that layer of numbness is disappearing, and I am feeling things at a whole new level. I am feeling extremely vulnerable, and I find myself in deep tears at the most inopportune times.

I will say that it has been lovely to hear people speak to me of my writing. On each occasion there has been the immediate offer of sympathy, which has always been hard for me to accept. I have heard myself say it many times to others, Gosh, I am so sorry for your loss. I don't know if others are saying it differently recently, but I do know that I am accepting it differently.

You know, I hesitate to speak so openly lately. There are so many ways in which I have moved forward with my life. There are so many day to day challenges that require me to be strong, and to keep myself, and my family, moving forward. Yet, and I do realize I am saying yet an awful lot, I am hurting on a whole new level. The pain does not last as long, but cuts deeper than before. Today at the gym, I was meeting with a trainer. She asked what happened to change my work out habits during the past couple of years. I looked up at her and said, my husband got sick, and died. I must have looked pathetic, but she responded so sweetly. Right there in that moment, I wanted to just fall apart.

What harsh words.

What a harsh reality.

Tonight I was watching a taped episode of Glee. The storyline dealt with issues of faith and religious tolerance. The subtext for the episode was that Kurt's father had suffered a heart attack, and was in critical condition. He didn't know whether or not he would lose his father forever. He sang this song, "I Want to Hold Your Hand." It hit me like a ton of bricks. I so need to touch Michael's hand. I so need to feel him here with me. And, I so know that it will never be.

I don't want to be a person that dwells on the past. I don't want to bore people with always whining about losing my husband. I don't want to waste my time, and possibilities, by yearning for something that just can't be. But right now, I don't really know what else to do. This is where I am at.

Part of me really wants to meet someone new. Part of me really wants to lay in bed holding onto someone, or having him hold on to me. Yet, here it is again, I worry about the flood of held back tears that might fall when that first happens. I worry that I will completely overwhelm him with my response.

I have had people reach out to hold my hand. I have had plenty of hugs along the way. I know that when it happens, that someone reaches out for me in a romantic way, that I will feel, and receive, this touch in a very different way. I don't think I will be that strong person anymore. I think I will crumble to the floor.

I know that this will be the case, yet it is still something that I will seek.

I want to hold his hand.


  1. A while ago I got "in trouble" for blogging as openly as I did about things. I suppose some found it unprofessional, but hey, I'm not a superhuman & blogging has been a great outlet, although I also feel a certain sense of vulnerability. - You just never know who is reading & how they interpret what they read.

    Brent and I always held hands. He had huge hands. His hands saved me once from running into a car. - I was in New Zealand and didn't anticipate the traffic coming from "the other side." I stepped into the road & he pulled me back. Anyhoo. His daughter has his hands in some ways. Obviously they are not huge. :-) But when she tightly grabs my pinky, I can't help but think of her father's hands...

    There's something about holding a hand, about touching with a hand. Something very human, loving, protecting...

  2. argh! sometimes I have the hardest time with comments getting lost . . . just continuing the trend for the day I've had I suppose.

    Anyhow, I'll try again. Glee made me cry too. What is it with that show??

    I've hit a crossroads with my writing too - I thank you for your comment the other day =), but I don't know what to do with my blog either.

    I'm having a pretty 'down' evening. I just really want my husband back. As you say, sometimes the pain farther out is just deeper.

    You'll be in my heart (as always) in particular as the 19th approaches . . .


  3. When you meet the right person, I don't think you'll have to worry about whether there is a flood of tears, or you break down. The right person is going to understand and be glad that you feel comfortable enough to let yourself go. Try not to let the fear of tears keep you from expressing yourself.

    Regarding writing on your blog and how much to say, or whether to write at all. I've given it some thought too - especially as I don't blog anonymously. My path to blogging has been a little different, in that I first wrote about nature and that blog was quite widely read at that time - school teachers told me they had their students read the blog, etc.. Then Don died and I just felt like I couldn't just go on - with Don's death being like a side note. I started a different blog to write about what had happened to our lives and the path I've taken to try to go on.

    I've been told the same thing - that friends and family read my blog. I guess that, in a way, it's good that they do as it means I don't have to try to explain what I'm thinking or doing. I say it once and if anyone actually cares enough to read, they know where I'm at.

    Sometimes I think about quitting blogging, but I don't feel like it - at least, not yet. It's how I keep in touch with my friends who are scattered all over. My blog is different than yours though. I don't know if I could have written a blog that charted my thoughts on a day to day basis, almost like a ship's log. Mine is more like letters home. For several years, I blogged daily, but since blogging about my life, it's just occasional, and allows me to pick and choose what to write about, and what to leave out - sort of like telling you that I went to Paris and did this, but not that my wallet got stolen by a pickpocket -- although, in truth, I usually don't gloss over things. I'm past caring what anyone thinks, so I just write what I feel.

    Well, as soon as I post this comment, I'm packing up the computer and won't see it again for a couple of months as it will be stowed under the bed in my van. I hope to be on the road in a couple of hours. I'll have the iPad to keep in touch and continue blogging - I hope. Not sure how good the connections will be in different areas, but I'll try to continue to drop by to read as often as I can.