Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Without You I Am Nothing

Sadness looms, but I'll be okay.

I hesitate to write tonight, because I wanted to feel better, and to have something positive to say. Yet, to be real with you all, I am still in a very sad place. I will come out of it, but it is what it is today.

Yesterday I received an amazing outpouring of support from all of you, from my kids, and from many of my friends and family. And while I wasn't really in a space to talk to anyone, I did benefit from the messages, texts and Facebook postings. Throughout most of the day I found myself trying to just breathe, but to keep it together.

Male machismo at it's best.

Yet there were two interactions that just broke down my guarded exterior, and that was a brief visit by my daughter, and a telephone call by my parents. These were the two interactions that allowed me to cry, to sob, and in the case of my daughter, to be held. I am starting to see the benefits that come along when your children become adults, and begin taking advantage of opportunities to give back. Yesterday my daughter came through for me, and I love her very much for that. With my parents, I become that little boy that needs their reassurance. The moment I answered the telephone, and heard their voices tell me they were thinking about what a perfect day it was two years ago at our wedding, well, I could feel their loving arms around me. It was also difficult, as I know how much it hurts them to hear me hurt. They just kept reminding me that they think about Mike all the time, and continue to appreciate and love him for the love he gave to me.

Even writing this chokes me up.

Another realization is that today I have such an extensive group of friends that I have made by being widowed. Through this blog, and through other grief related interactions, I have had the pleasure to meet, and know, the most beautiful and caring people. And these people literally circle the globe. It has been an amazing journey when I think of this. And I can honestly say, I cannot imagine my life without all of you. I don't think I would be here today without having had these connections.

Without you, I am nothing.


  1. Diddo, my friend =)

  2. oh sweetie, even through your darkest days you are finding something to be appreciative of, and that takes a very special person.

    It is incredibly hard right now due to your wedding memories, the changing season, the idea of another year looming ahead.

    And oh yes, we do all need each other, don't we? There are so many times, too many to count, that you have come through to me, reached out and brought some light into my darkness.

    I love you Dan, and am thinking of you right now, and shall be today and tomorrow, willing you to reach out and grab some of that light just for yourself.


  3. I have managed to keep up with reading your blog while on the road, but commenting hasn't been quite so easy. I'm currently camped at a place where I have to go up a trail above a hoodoo field to get the iPad to work. Sitting up here is a bit like sitting on top of the world, with golden meadows stretching off to the horizon, and the hoodoos along a river in the badlands down below me. The Sweetgrass Mountains in Montana are to the south. Plains Indians came here to hunt, but also as it was considered a sacred place where they came to dream and have visions. I do always dream a lot here and at some similar places I have spent time during my travels. Anyhow, all that to say that I have read your posts and been thinking about them over the past few days. For some reason, last night was difficult for me -- perhaps it is something to do with the time of year, or the moon, or this place. I was feeling a little overwhelmed trying to figure out my next few days of travels as there are storms in the forecast in the direction I had planned to go. I was thinking of how tired I sometimes become. Tired of being without Don. Tired of having no one to discuss things with. Sad for him because he is not here in this place he so much wanted to visit some day. As survivors, our lot in life is strange and hard. Is it any wonder we feel such sadness? However, we do have our friends and family, and all of us here in the blogging community. Take care.

  4. nice, bev.
    That not having someone who cares what direction you go, who is invested in life with you - strange and hard. Sometimes I feel those deeply beautiful and strong places make that even more acute.

  5. Dan, hugs to you, and one big hug to all of us together. Here is a quote I just came across; a link to the entire article is on my fb page. I was struck by this.

    "Grieving isn’t about forgetting. It’s about dividing up one’s feelings. Portions to mourn and release and portions to re-claim and build again. It is architecture and construction – creative, tedious and unpredictable."

    People don't often use the word tedious to describe our "grief journey" (<--blechh.) It is often posed as this noble quest we are on, but there is so much about it that just plain sucks, and it's so unrelenting, too, months and years stretching out behind us and before us. It was a relief to hear the word "tedious" because I know I am not the only one who gets just plain sick of it sometimes. Tired of hearing myself cry, tired of being the sad one, the one people are concerned about. Also, and I know it sounds so petty compared to the fate of our sweethearts, but I get so awfully tired of having to do EVERYTHING MYSELF. There is not a lot of give&take when it's just me.
    But as much as I would give anything, of course, to have our regular old life back, I feel incredibly blessed by all of you, dear friends. Dan, thanks for being here w/ this forum. Love you. carolyn

  6. "Without you I am nothing." This is so true of our Widow/er community: online, in support groups and where ever it is that we find each other. No one else can truly understand this journey. I would feel so very alone without my new widow/er friends.

  7. (((Dan)))

    I wish I was close enough to hug you. How lucky you were to have someone in your life that you miss so damn much. How I wish it were different and you lived in that alternate universe.


  8. I'm emotionally wrung out today and have no words to respond to this. I just wish I could hug you.