Grief is overwhelming.

You never know when it’s going to trample your day from out of nowhere, or your week, or your month, or your life. It consumes and barely lets you breathe at times. I feel confused about grief. None of it feels normal, I can’t attempt to understand it and I have absolutely no control over it.

For someone with control issues to begin with, the past year has been a huge battle for me. At least with Kevin being sick I felt I could take control of his meds, his treatments, his home care-I could DO things in order to feel at least slightly in control of the situation, even though the outcome was completely out of my hands.

I look back at what I was able to remember and I’m amazed. I’ve never had a good memory, but I could remember the tons of medications and treatments he was on, what had happened and when without having to think. It was just there. Now “widda” brain has taken over and I can’t remember..well..shit! Or as a good co-worker says, I have “CRS” syndrome, haha.

I think recalling the events of the past year is most hard because of how Kevin suffered and why he suffered so. I believe he held on for me, and while I’m grateful for that, imaginging the pain he felt breaks my heart. To know that he went through that for me, for him, for us to have some semblence of a future together. I don’t regret anything, I try not to at least, but it’s hard not to be hurt at the thought of my husband’s suffering.

Nothing is the same. I can’t change any of it. It’s all out of my control, and that’s completely scary. I can’t control what’s going to come or what I’m feeling even second to second. Most times it catches me off guard and I barely have time to brace for the flood.

I miss him dearly. What I hate most about that particular phrase is that it doesn’t begin to capture the feeling behind behind the 3 words: I MISS HIM. It’s so vague to all that phrase entails.

I miss him=smile, laugh, humor, love, sexiness, desire, passion, vigor, ambition, hope, dreams, safety, comfort, calm, happiness, excitement, butterflies, encouragement, faith, future, children, plans, hands, holding, wishes, drives, travel, camp buddy, smell, feel, touch, foot rubs, chef, darryl’s “dad”, sweat, strength, goofiness, romantic…..

I miss him.

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Comments 1

  1. I know that to you I’m just words on a computer screen, but I really am sending you hugs. It’s good that you have friends and family to help you sort through and pick up the pieces as you work your way through all this grief. And while it may not feel normal, I’m here to reassure you that everything you’re feeling really is 100% normal. You may not have control of external events, but you do have control of you, and in the end that’s what counts, because that’s what’s going to get you back on your feet… when you’re ready. Just take all the time you need in the meantime. The hardest part of the grieving process is the time it takes to work through it. The good news is that nothing lasts forever – even feeling like shit.

    Also, I know it’s not necessarily for everybody, but what really helped get me back on my feet when my dad died was going to bereavement groups and talking to my therapist. It was that constant reassurance that what I was feeling was nothing new, and that there were people out there who didn’t just survive but actually thrived after the loss of someone who literally had claim to part of their soul, that got me through to the other side. It might be worth at least giving it a try – again, you’ll know if and when you’re ready for something like that.

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