22=Here!

During the second week of my loneliness I realized I was carrying around a feeling I could not describe, an eerily disjointed type of feeling.  After an exhaustive search of a lot of sources, I had come to understand something about this process of grief and the feelings associated with it.  The ‘waves of grief’ I understood and had experienced, still do, the instances of pure shock that Donna is no longer here, well I had felt that too, still do, though not as much as in the beginning.  All the doubts, feelings of guilt, the anguish and fear, I have had those to, still do.  But for me, because I could put a name to those feelings, I could deal with them and understand them; I didn’t like them, but I could see that they were a part of this.  This eerie feeling I had since her death was something I had not been able to put a name to, or even had a description for it.  It had somewhat been pushed to the background as those other feelings were raging.  One day during this time, as I sorted through papers and clothes, I was half listening to what was on TV; it was a documentary about the Holocaust.

Why it was on I have no idea, I don’t remember purposely turning to it.  Anyway, as I sorted and listened, I picked up the thread of the narration.  The speaker was saying that in many of the places where terrible acts had been committed, where all these people had been killed, some visitors would comment that there was a certain atmosphere that existed.  The narrator described it as ‘the presence of absence’.  I stopped in mid-sort and turned to the TV; I listened as he explained this phrase.  I didn’t fully understand everything he was trying to say, but I did get this much: those places appear to contain some mysterious aura of all the people who passed through them…like, those people should still be there, but they’re not and their absence can be felt…or something like that.  Anyway, what I do know is that the phrase described accurately what I had been feeling those two weeks.

That eerie feeling that had been plaguing me was explained perfectly by this ‘the presence of absence’ phrase.  I could breathe again…I had a name for the feeling.  That’s important to me and my healing; my personality dictates that I be able to identify things, quantify them and put them in some specific order if I am to deal with them effectively, and that goes for grieving too, to some extent.  Grief does not lend itself well to those finite notions of boundaries. It runs wild, unchecked through my mind and wreaks havoc.  For me, it distorts reality and renders all previous conceptions of what one thinks life is about, useless when trying to come to terms with such a great personal loss.  But now I thought, I have some way to work with this feeling, now I could attach a name to it.  The feeling itself…how can I describe it…it was like I knew she was gone physically but I felt her all around me but something was missing, it was incomplete; it was as if when I turned to look, I expected her to be there but she wasn’t.  No matter where I went, the store, the car wash, home, to bed, there was an emptiness, a feeling that something or someone should be there, but is not.  That’s the atmosphere that was around me, that’s what that feeling is, the ‘the presence of absence’.  Evidently I was feeling the presence of her absence.  This had been keeping me off balance, along with the other ‘normal’ feelings of grief.  Hope that makes sense.  I still experience the power of that feeling today and probably will for some time to come.

The narrator continued, “…associated with this is ‘the absence of presence’….”;  at this point I had to question if the narrator was playing semantics.  As I thought about this I began to understand this a little better. 

The two phrases are linked together, though the words are rearranged, both phrases describe the same thing…almost…I think.  I do recognize the presence of Donna’s absence; I feel that presence of her absence. I also feel the pain in the absence of Donna’s presence; I imagine I could go ‘round and ‘round for sometime with this one…mabey it is just word games, but what ever it is it described for me how I was feeling, and for that I’m grateful, it really had me in a knot.

n delving into grief and how to deal with it, I have found that like most things, it has it’s own jargon, shortcuts, protocol and culture.  In posts listed on the various forums you will see references to: ‘waves of grief’, ‘instances of shock’, ‘the roller coaster (of emotions)’, abbreviations such as:  DH (dear husband), DW (dear wife), DS (dear son) or you might see MIL (mother-in-law), SIL, DIL, BIL &ct.  There are buzz words for events and dates: Angel Date (date of loved one’s death), WID (widow or widower), Sadisversary (birthday of loved one, or date to remember special event). That last one, Sadisversary, is also used to reflect one’s feeling towards a traditional holiday if a grieving person has a difficult time when those dates approach.  There’s also my favorite, ‘Bagos’, the short form of ‘WidowBagos’.  Apparently a turn on Winnebagos the RV, this is a gathering of widows and widowers that no doubt started at RV parks but has since ,come to describe the event regardless of where it’s held.  I have read where they are held at hotels, Theme Parks and the like.  I am not making any judgements on these things or trying to demean or poke fun at them, I’m merely listing them here as a point of information.  As a matter of fact I for one am glad they exist; they give us a way to describe the various facets of grief to one another with precise meaning and helps to develop a sense of fellowship.  They can make you feel that you are part of something, which you are not alone in what you are going through.  They really have helped me, as I mentioned before, I like to have a definition for things, the words and phrases allow me make a direct connection with the ‘grief community’.  Thus the importance for me to be able to put a name to the feeling I was experiencing during that time.

I still have that feeling sometimes but it does not produce the terror and overall sense of being lost that it once did, just sadness.  Of course there are other feelings that continue to raise their heads, the waves of grief, the instances of shock still occur for me.  The roller coaster of emotions is ever present; feeling great one moment, ready to burst into tears the next.  I will state flatly, I don’t like them. They continue to make me unsure of my actions and at times they hobble my thoughts.  The pain is here, I’m told it will always be here but will lessen over time.  That sucker punch to the gut feeling only comes every other hour these days, instead of every hour, but I’m never prepared for it. 

Yes, I long for Donna’s presence again, her absence is sorely felt, and just because I have a definition for that, in this instance, presently, it has not made  her absence any easier…. 

pax

_____________________________________________“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go, you go), my dear…” -e.e.cummings