Missing

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.

Brenda Sieglitz

Brenda Lee Sieglitz is an author and public speaker whose topics focus on travel, grief, and nature. Widowed in 2008 at 24 years of age, Brenda is an advocate for sarcoma patients, the widowed community, and conservation through her volunteerism with the National Park Service, Lancaster County Conservancy, Pennsylvania Master Naturalist, Hospice of Lancaster County, Soaring Spirits International, Angiosarcoma Awareness and Highmark Caring Place. Brenda won the 2009 Associated Content “Content of the Year” award, and in 2011 was named one of Wyndham Women’s “Women on their Way”. Most recently her love and loss memoir, Ebb from the Shoreline, won 1st Place Editor’s Choice in Nonfiction at the 2014 North American Book Awards. Sieglitz holds a degree in business and became a Pennsylvania Master Naturalist in 2015. In her spare time, she adores playing with her two nieces, going on family adventures with her husband, stepdaughter and son-in-law, hiking, camping and is working to complete her bucket list dream of visiting all National Park units. Sieglitz has been married to her best friend Dave since 2013 and continues to reside in Lancaster County with their two beagles Scotch and Fina.

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Comments 1

  1. Caitlin July 1, 2009

    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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