For weeks after Kevin passed, it was 1 week, 2 weeks, 16 weeks. Not only did I mark my life by how long it had been since I had been blessed with his presence here on earth; I also marked it by how long I had survived without him by my side. I am now just 3 short days shy of an entire year noted without his presence. A few weeks ago I looked over the past year of the blog. While in many ways it feels like he has just passed, that I had just sat next to him watching him take his last breaths, I can notably see that I have grown, I have progressed. That I am alive.
In grief, it kills a bit of you. In the beginning, it feels like most of you has been swallowed up in the bitter extreme loss of your life. You have lost your soul mate, cliche as it sounds, and with it, your dreams, passion, zealousness for life; Your vigor to wake up, the strength to make new plans, and the embracing of reality. Has this truly happened is now longer a question, but something I live and die with every single day.
As sad as it is, with each day, you do move forward. I say sad, because moving forward means letting go. It may seem like a victory, but for those who have lost, it is not. It is not a battle we want to win. It is completely the opposite; it is a battle we never dared to embrace, one we want to have no part in. It is a battle for our lives-lives we had joined with someone else, but now must face alone. Alone.
The “victory” of moving forward is learning to stand on your own. To finally get on with it, to do things we may never have done before just to make it through the day, the goal to embrace some resemblance of a life, and to just exist in what is your new, lonesome life.
It may be a defeatist attitude, but welcome to grief. Grief isnt beautiful. It’s ugly. It’s a nasty partition that comes between life and death. It is the sole emotion that envelops so many others: anger, resentment, guilt, hunger, lust. Ok. I just stopped.
My breathe has just been taken away. Ever have one of those incredibly eerie moments? Yes, this is one of them. It’s 9:15. The bell at the nearby church just rung once. One time. Not at any significant hour. It stopped me dead.
Kevin? Was that your bell?
….thoughts to continue later