Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Knocked Back Down, Momentarily.

Love knocks you down!

Knocked back down to my knees.


I was checking out Facebook earlier, as I like to see who is celebrating their birthday. Today was the birthday of one of Michael's best friends, so I went to her page. While there I decided to check out her photos, and didn't prepare myself for what I might see. It was the photos since Michael's death that hit me, and hit me hard.

I got through our two year wedding anniversary really well last week. I had the loving support of my kids, and of Abel. I had a quiet evening, but a peaceful one. Today, looking at photos of Michael's friends spending time together during the past couple of years was very hard to look at. I suppose it was just a harsh reminder of how much time has passed since he's been gone. I think I incorporate my daily life, my life without him, and it all is beginning to feel more comfortable. Yet, I don't often think about how much his presence is missing in the rest of the world.

Immediately after looking at the photos, and making a casual comment to my daughter about them, I realized that the dark bile of grief was working it's way up my throat. I went into my bedroom, and was knocked to my knees. I haven't felt this level of pain in such a long time. It was cutting me from every side of my being. From within, and from without. I couldn't find comfort laying on my bed, so I did as I usually do. I lit the candles that sit along side his urn, got out my meditation pillow, and sat there before the glowing warmth of the candle light. For comfort I reached out for the pocket watch he gave me five months before his death. It was supposed to remind me of the beating of his heart, yet in the two years that have passed, the battery had died. I sat there on the floor, with a dead pocket watch, crying over my dead husband.

How pathetic.

I must have released a shitload of stored up grief, because it went on and on. As I sat there I felt the need to connect to him physically once again. I didn't want something that used to belong to him, I wanted him. I know this may be morbid to some, yet I know what I need from time to time. I went to his urn, opened the lid, and reached in.

My fingers grazed across the jagged mixture of bone and dust. I opened a small bag that I keep separate from the rest. I let my fingers dig deep, and to feel his ashes in between my fingers. I ran this dust, his ashes, across my hand, and then laid back down on the floor. I laid there, physically connected, spiritually reaching out, and waited for a sense of healing. I wanted so badly to have him reach back out to me. I waited, then waited some more.

I soon began thinking of Abel. I thought about the many times I have found myself lying in his arms. I took that feeling, and mixed it up with Michael's embrace. I laid there on the floor for a very long time, and realized that I was likely missing Abel's nightly call during his break at work. I reminded myself that someone cares about me. Someone cares about me out there in that place I have no real knowledge of. Someone cares about me here in my current world as well.

I feel such comfort knowing that I have Michael so close to me. All I have to do is reach out for him and he is there. I also feel such comfort knowing that I have someone, Abel, who is willing to listen to my stories of Michael whenever I need to speak.

Just a minute ago Abel did call. I took a break from writing, and he could hear something in my voice. He asked, I shared, and he reassured me that if he were here there would be a great big hug for me. I'm feeling so much better now. I am feeling like I am back on my feet, and okay with continuing on my journey.

Funny how there is no conflict between my two loves. They coexist, and I am at peace.


  1. Although it has now been over three years since Don died, I had a couple or so bad days back in September. The trigger seemed to be going through photos to write a post on the anniversary of his death. I had been avoiding looking at photos od him taken during his illness. Therre is one in particular (i posted it) of the two of us together with him looking so ill but still smiling. It makes me so very sad at the unfairness of it all that just thinking about it can make me cry. There are certain things that I am sure we will never truly get over, but that we will compartmentalize so that we can function well most of the time. However, It's probably necessary to let the genie out of the bottle from time to time as we do have to deal with what has been lost from time to time. What is good is that you are able to make room for two loves within your life and not feel like you have to give up one to have another. I think our capacity to love doesn't really have a limit.

  2. sweetheart - NOT pathetic. Real.

    There are times I get a hit of what the last two years+ looks like to others, and it also brings me to the floor, as you said. There is something about that - angle.

    And, your path here with allowing/opening/coexisting love, well, it's bringing me comfort my friend. Thank you for sharing it.

  3. Conflict is, imo, often the result of over-thinking in an attempt to find something to be conflicted about.

    It's not really strange to have "moments" as you move farther into a new relationship. And it gets better with time. Don't be hard on yourself