sElf eSteam

                                     'Everybody is a star

Who can rain, chase the dust away

Everybody wants to shine

Ooh, come out on a cloudy day

'Til the sun that loves you proud

When the system tries to bring you down

Every hand to shine tonight

You don't need darkness to do what you think is right'

(Sly And The Family Stone - 1969)

As I was growing up, because of my birth given physical size and stature, it was up to me to establish myself among my peers. Being slightly shorter and lighter than most of the others, I may have appeared to be the automatic target of many of their remarks and pranks; it was a notion that required dispelling more than once as we moved and new mates were acquired. But my dad had prepared me well, giving me a few basic principals to operate with: 1. “Think! Know when to walk away…”... 2. ‘You have one mouth, two hands & two ears…listen well and when in doubt go to your strength…first action…’’. Now, for the most part I practiced theses things with varying degrees of success, but what knowing them really did was to give me food for thought on how to avoid unnecessary bullshit. My dad was not what you would call a formally educated man, coming from the South during the Great Northern Migration of the 30’s and 40’s he landed on the WestSide of Chicago with barely a sixth grade education and worked in the slaughterhouses early on. Later he became a baker and worked for what was at one time, a large confectionery concern in Chicago. Of average height and weight, he bore the marks of an upbringing, both mental and physical which no doubt had given him much experience in the field of human relations, and not just as a brawler; the man was a thinker. I miss him dearly. I’m sure his unique way of thinking came from his limited formal education, requiring him to develop and devise other techniques, through thought, to survive in this world. In dealing with us children it was his bent to always remind us that we belonged here and that how  we were treated in this world was up to us for the most part. Those lessons have stayed with me through the years, and later as an adult I was fortunate enough to be able to have that conversation with him which so many of us do not get the opportunity to have; that conversation when misconceptions and resentments as well as offerings of acknowledgments and gratitude are shared. It was my chance to let him know that I thought he was pretty great, and that I loved him for the way he had loved us and guided me and my siblings, and for how he had taken care of us. That it was soon after I had gained some measure of sobriety was a plus for him…he had practiced right up until our biological mother died when I was 5, after that I never saw him take a drink again. The only thing he ever said to me in regards to my own practice was "...son, you don't have to be this way...".

 In starting with this, I’m leading to what we think of ourselves, not only in the light of the grief we have come to know, but what we experience generally. It had not occurred to me that this was an issue during grief, but that is nothing new, there are many things about this journey which I am finding out and of which I did not have the slightest idea. In the various conversations I have, there have been times when I have heard someone put themselves down, unnecessarily in my opinion, for having certain feelings and emotions about the death of their spouse or partner and about themselves in general. That this would come under the heading of low self esteem had not come to mind for me, I had accepted it as a natural reaction to grieving. But as I listened more closely I came to hear more and more of it, and I began to think seriously about it in relation to myself and DJ’s death. It doesn't seem to be a major issue for me, but the jury is still out, I've only recently started to examine things along this particular line. It does however make sense to me that we might come up against this as we make the journey. How we view and what we think of ourselves can be impacted by the death of our husband, wife, partner and I think what we bring to that situation has a lot to do with how we respond to it and how it can help to shape our own self image during grief. “…I wasn’t good enough, so they died’’... maybe, if another companion interest is found and things don’t seem to be just right, notions of “ Why am I not enough…” may creep in…thoughts along those lines are probably normal tho not necessarily true. As I say, I don’t think I had that issue; I’ve always known that I was the greatest thing going since sliced bread, and I thank my folks for drumming it into us. But I think there are many other things that can cause us to think less of ourselves, dealing with the daily situations of life, we find there are compromises we have to submit to and deals we have to make to get along. These things can have a great effect on our self image. My dad had warned me about such situations and his lessons had been about discerning when smart thinking or decisive action was required to maintain a balanced sense of myself; being a light weight, I often leaned towards the thinking end. But I understood the point of the exercise; I shouldn’t have to walk away from any situation feeling less about myself, no matter what. It cannot always be that way, but we start all of it, any of it, with that idea in mind…first. Having the battle scars, both mental and physical is of little consequence when compared the better self image which can be maintained.

 An incident which occurred later in life, when I was in basic training in the service provides a personal example. As I sat on the edge of my bunk one day, another Trainee, obviously under the impression that we were there as members of some college fraternity undergoing hell week, declared that he thought I should be the House Mouse, a go-for or some type of designated pick on boy...as he passed my bunk, saying this, I came to full bayonet charge stance and engaged the rifle he was cleaning with my own... ''...En Garde! Parry Left, Forward Step, Horizontal Butt Stroke...'' I screamed at the top of my lungs, repeating the words and moves from the exercise we all had been present at earlier that day; totally surprising him, he backed as I executed each word and step, I held my stance looking directly into his eyes, gauging whether I would need to deliver the final move of that lesson. Stepping back in retreat, he mouthed '' Whoa man..." or some such thing...as others backed away, he returned to his bunk, saying he was only joking. Explaining to him that I understood that, and that it was just that which had made me move, I let him know that I did not consider what we were doing as a joke; those training NCO's were reminding us everyday that everything they were trying to teach us was designed to keep us alive, that we had to think in terms of life and death situations...and by the way asshole, you missed the first rule of the bayonet...there are only the quick and the dead. It sent a message to him and the others present that they might want to reconsider an ill, preconceived notions they may have had about me; and it also let them know that I might be the one they wanted to be next to when we entered combat. But the most important thing for me is that I came away feeling good about me. It could have been a situation which may have led to all kinds of questions about my self image; me, not liking what someone said and not saying or doing anything about it. For me, in this situation, the other side of what my dad had said came into play, it required action. I relate this not as some attempt to declare my toughness or aggressive nature, it depicts a situation in which my self esteem was directly involved; he had not approached that chunky fellow over there who looked like he threw cows for a living. There are some things no one can say to me and not be challenged on, consequences be damned...not even DJ.

 With grief I can see how it would be even more of an issue because such a close personal relationship is involved. Our wanting the best for the ones at risk drives our every thought and action; we constantly question…not our motives so much, but our abilities. For me, this is natural, this questioning, it’s the answers we get sometimes which can cause us problems. We have to remember that if it was left to us, they would still be here. We have to believe that of those things which we could control, we did our best to make the next right decisions, with no regrets now. Sure, it’s hard to do sometimes, and these things can get lost in the fog of grief. But, I believe at some point we must call them to the fore and squarely appraise them. It is understandable that some of us cannot do this, then, at that point, those of us who have a better grasp of ourselves should be willing to assist and remind the others. It’s called sharing and caring and it’s what we’re supposed to be all about. So we can listen more openly, think longer before answering maybe, try to understand beyond the façade most of us sometimes wear in order just to get through the day. But to help at all, we must first be aware and that’s what I’m trying to remind myself of by putting this piece down.

 Like I wrote earlier, for me, this knowing and liking ourselves has been understood for some time. In relation to DJ’s death, I had not really given it a thought because I know for certain that I did everything I could do for her. And I don’t know this simply because I say I do; I know it because if I had not, I would not be able to live with myself today…that she told me that she knew I had is an added bonus, but even if she had not, I am secure knowing I know, I did. We all know having self confidence and good self esteem is critical to our well being at any time in our lives and especially now, but we may need reminding; carrying unnecessary bullshit forward, into the different life can land us in that insanity circle.  We may want to take care and stay mindful of it’s possible impact on us during our journey. Now, I don’t have all the answers as to exactly what should be done when we might be faced with someone having esteem issues, or even our own. I do well to understand the basic idea that we should have good self esteem, for myself I'm starting with the idea that we are inherently worthy as it is my belief that the Power I believe in does not make junk. We can be pushed, bruised and battered towards believing we deserve less than what we should expect, but here, again, in most cases I think it’s up to us. One thing I am sure of…we cannot live the rest of our lives questioning decisions made about our partners, or our lives with them…or about why that new person didn’t call back…or text or why for all our efforts, we can’t seem to get what we want, when we want it. Feeling good about ourselves should be as natural as breathing, at least I think so and I believe we start at the top,that being the idea that we are worthy. But we are not powerless here, awareness and a sincere effort can probably not only make a difference to our own self image, but also that of those around us. Having adopted H.O.W. (Honesty, Open-ness, & Willingness) as some of the tools I would use in dealing with grief, I am required to examine this notion of self esteem and how DJ's death might impact me in that regard. 

 Of course I am not impervious to the forces of life and have had my share of things that did not go as planned…with the largest so far being my inability to control DJ’s dying. But like many other things that have tried to have me question my own value and worth, grief, tho powerful in it’s own right, for me, has to line up along side many of the other things I have faced in life. The lessons my folks, especially my dad tried to instill in me have served me well and have allowed me to survive events and situations which I otherwise fear I would not have. The simple fact is I like me, I don’t like some of the things I have done, or allowed to happen, but in most cases, those times have helped me to better understand myself and not make those same missteps again, at least not unknowingly. DJ’s dying did not make me like myself any less; it did make me dislike being alone…eating alone…driving alone…even thinking, alone…but I still think Fred is a bit more than alright.

Below I have added a photo of my dad and one from my senior yearbook; we would kid him about that hat and how he is wearing it. The one from the yearbook depicts me, then a member of our high school Drama Club, exclaiming to the young, but captive (and mostly giggling) audience my greatness, the fellow peeking around the curtain at the lower right was a friend who attempted to make me butcher my lines, him, delivering a stream of crude quips...from my posture and the look on the other cast member's face you can probably tell that he did not succeed. I don't know if being a member of that club helped with my self esteem, but I do remember having a lot of fun. And we know that living, loving, having fun and coming to terms with death, is really what this is all supposed to be about...we have to remember, if we can, that we're not born with low self esteem, I think in many cases it is usually something we come to accept...It's probably tacky to ask, but can I get an "Encore!"?

sIghs & sIgns

 

"Sign, sign, everywhere a sign
Blockin' out the scenery, breakin' my mind
Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign?"

      (Lyrics as recorded by The Five Man Electrical Band in 1971)

In trying to come to terms with the conditions the different life wants to impose upon us, I’m taken back to a comment made by a widow friend of mine. As we talked about the effects that grief appeared to have on us all, she mentioned  that after her partners death, she began to feel ‘old’.  Now, to me she does not appear that way in looks or spirit, but I think I understand what she was getting at. When asked if I had experienced that feeling, I said no, but that I knew what she meant although I did not get that particular feeling after DJ died, I do remember feeling that way years ago. It was after having survived another traumatic experience, combat in another country. At that time I was only 19-20 yrs. old, and having seen and done some of the things necessary to emerge alive, it had left an impression to say the least. For a period of time after returning home, there would be times when I would feel ‘old’…then I attributed it to the rigors of war and it gradually faded from my thoughts. This feeling along with all the others that make their appearance when we face such a life altering event are probably all a part of the grieving and most likely normal; but they do happen and we might want to be aware of them and not allow ourselves to run too far with them.

 Again, this feeling old is directly associated with our old nemesis, time, that enigma of nature we have only a fleeting understanding of, but yet, have such a desperate attachment to the process itself. Early on in the journey as we are experiencing the first throes of grief we hear “…the pain will ease, ‘in time’…” ; later, we realize that to be true for the most part and can then say, “…yes, there's pain, but not like ‘back then’ “, again, alluding to time. In recalling my own thoughts about the life DJ and I shared, time is involved; in both the recollection and the events being remembered. Doing this recalling does not make me feel older in any sense, although on a mortal timeline the time span may appear to be fairly long. In a curious way, thinking about all of it actually does the opposite because it takes me back to those young and fresh times when there was a family to create jobs to get and yes, memories to make. In doing this recalling, either as a dedicated effort or by happenstance as I wait for the local commuter to pass, I’m finding it s much less painful and more of a forward moving event in gaining some peace. Now, altho there are a few tears or moments of painful realization, remembering does not bring with it the sharp jolts to the senses and physical reactions that at one time almost sent me scurrying to the nearest ER. Today I can recall things and just…well…sigh.

Being  a new sensation, it’s odd…no pain associated with the feeling…no tears…just sigh. It caught me off guard when I first realized it was happening, then became more familiar, more expected. I may not be able to accurately describe it, but I know it exists for me. Perhaps, like a lot of things that are built into the grieving, it is a phase and will move on…or I will move on…but for now, this is what is coming along with a lot of the memories.

In this piece I have included a collage made from some photos taken on the day of our 30^th wedding anniversary. The children had given us, as a gift, a weekend get-a-way. Five years earlier we had renewed our vows in an elaborate wedding ceremony and sit down eats, it was a grand time, and I was glad that DJ had been so excited and happy; she had endured much with me and the six prior years of new sobriety for me had given our family an entirely different outlook.  As our 30^th anniversary approached DJ said we would wait until year 35 before doing anything like that again, so the gift from the children was a big surprise to us both.  It included a rented car, two nights at a fine hotel, spending dollars and of course their best wishes and love.  To get us dressed, their ruse had been that they were taking us to dinner so when DJ opened what she thought was just a card and found the car keys and cash, it was tears city. They even decorated the hotel room…and the bathroom…and…the ummm…furniture. There was a basket filled with snacks and even Sparkling Grape Juice. On the counter in the bathroom there were flowers and streamers and, what may appear to be specks in the photo, but which in reality are  small decorative number '30’s'…they don’t show up well in the photo, but that’s what they are. We enjoyed the weekend acting like carefree tourist and enjoying the room service; later, we would often talk about how great of a time we had, and how fortunate we were despite everything and how special we thought our children were. It’s a memory I can have today with all the emotion it deserves and I Know it is shared by DJ.

 Now, this all occurred in 2002 and the suit I wore that day has been in the cleaners many times since then. It is a custom made suit DJ bought for me when I was trying to dress to impress as I attending meetings to garner contracts for the business I was trying to make work for us. DJ said she liked seeing me in it and it still holds special thoughts for me. I still have that suit and wear it when the occasion warrants; I wore it the day of her funeral.  Recently I had a meeting with  some folks pertaining to work, and I wore that suit. As I transferred the essentials, keys, money, handkerchief and other items to the pockets of the suit coat, at one point the corner of something small and sharp became wedged between the skin  and nail of my left hand ring finger; not deep enough to be painful, but at the precise sweet spot where I could withdraw it from the pocket without touching it further, and bring it to the table I was dressing in front of. As I laid it down I realized it was actually one of the small number '30’s'. Upon further investigation as I tried to pick it up, it came apart; really, it was three number '30’s', they had been stuck together. I have included a pix, with a dime for scale reference.

I looked at them for a moment…anticipating the tears I was sure would come as a torrent of memories came pouring down over me…the moments of our surprise at such a special gift; the glee in DJ’s eye’s as we went out and saw the car which had been rented for us; the tears shed as she, myself, and all three children hugged and kissed and patted and cried and laughed together. It is a very powerful memory for me, even now all these years later, it is my hope that it remains just as fresh and powerful until the moment I take my last breath in this life.

During the journey I have often heard others speak of occurrences or the finding of items or the seeing of animals which they interpreted as signs from their partners. Altho I had never had such an experience, I am aware enough to know that Anything is possible, and have accepted that their interpretation of such events were true and believable.  For me, I am taking this as a sign from DJ that yes, you are on the right track. It should be understood here, I realize it does not require an o.k. from anyone, DJ included, but I am accepting it as such.  As my mental health regarding her death is improving, so is the day to day living, so is my general outlook, so are the business prospects. The times, they are ‘a changin’.  A lot of the efforts to find safe places for the memories of our life together appear to be paying off and I can go about my days with a new found calmness. This is not to say that the missing has eased, it has not, it’s just slowly being accepted with the pain it brings. That special ‘loneliness’ I’m sure we all know, is still here and there’s simply no getting around it; it to has to managed into our lives. But time and reflection are doing their part, and I hope I am doing mine. Living forward in this different life has to be done if we want to live and much of just how we do it is really up to us. A portion of  "...I can do this.."  here…a measure of “ …yeah, but that’s alright…” there, a smattering of  “…this is the Next Right Thing to do…”, brought in from the edges, along with a few  " ...you can go to hell..." thrown in when necessary, can make all the difference, not only in how we feel about all that has happened, but just as important I think, how we feel about ourselves.

So today, I’m taking the sighs and signs as landmarks on my personal journey as pointers to the way ahead and confirmation that yes, this can be done, and really, more important to me, yes,  I Want to do it!  In this time, as we try to negotiate the unknown trek of grief with unsure steps and foggy mind, it is good when we can really come to believe that not only can we survive this, intact (for the most part), but we can grow and thrive in the different life, understanding all the while what has been lost, and what has been gained and what can never be. Notions of right and wrong, good and bad, up and down, inside and out, can do, must do, won’t do, and a lot of other things, along with a few friends probably, went right out the window the moment we realized our partners would never return to us on this earth. We are charged now with not only creating or re-creating ourselves in this different life but also acknowledging the true impact of what has occurred and how we must deal with it; it is my belief that by doing this we truly become those persons we thought we could never be at the start of our journey.

Of course all of this about which I speak about here could be pure happenstance, my coming to terms with DJ’s death may have happened without me lifting a mental finger; the small item found in my suit coat pocket could indicate that I might want to change cleaning establishments, as I say, that suit has been cleaned many times since that anniversary day…those things may be true also; in my thinking, all possibles have to be examined and given equal credence as a possibility. However I choose to believe otherwise and in stating so here, am affirming my belief that this is a sign our human spirit is the driving force behind all we seek to accomplish and that’s a sign I can sigh about with a healthy dose of peace.

wHere

It’s  been 16 months since DJ died…Cancer kept the promise it had made four years earlier...since that terrible morning, as we watched them wheel her out of our house for the last time. Sixteen months since I sat with her leaning against me as life deserted her body; during that time I have come to call this a curious journey, this trek through grief and as more time passes, the more I am convinced of just how curious it really is. Surviving that early, terrible and often frightening time when, despite the shock, the feelings of bewilderment and confusion reigned supreme, was something I thought would not happen for me, but I did survive it…I think. We know all too well the difficulty involved, it being as unique and special to each of us, just as we are each special and unique, but with the resulting pain being commonly understood. Tho not interested in hearing it early on, the notion about time helping has proven to be accurate, and as I found for myself, more importantly, what we do with that time is really what matters. Of course some of it has to be used to examine our lives both as individuals and as the couple we and our partners once were. To say this is not such an easy thing would be to display an observation of the obvious to the extreme; dealing with older memories as well as the circumstances surrounding the more recent events is unavoidable and necessary I think if we are to move forward in the different life with any degree of success.
 So we find those methods best suited to us, counseling, both one on one and group maybe, deep personal reflection, or temporarily shutting down emotionally are some ways we can attempt to make sense out of the apparently senseless. Along with the personal reflection it was suggested that I write things down…so I did, privately at first, then publicly, stating what meager bits of information I could coherently put into words. It was probably one of the best things I could have done. Being forced to relive many of the memories I have of DJ and myself allowed me to fully feel the full weight of what has happened and to be thoroughly overwhelmed by it…for me, I think it was what I needed to fully realize that yes, this was a truly crushing blow and the effects of it were and are, total and seemingly never ending, just easing somewhat. We go through the period of stark disbelief, shuddering when we are forced to realize, many times over and over, that yes, it really did happen. Places, events, the music we hear, the scents we pick up, TV programs, once unimportant items, sometimes, even some of the people around us, all can become triggers leading us back to that point of knowing, and feeling, and wishing and hoping and regretting…with us expressing our helplessness and pain many times with the only human expression we have to display the depth of such hurt, uncontrollable tears and even primal screams, in an effort to relieve the enormous pressure we feel; physical symptoms are not unheard of, with the true physical toll being something we may never know. It is all part and parcel of the journey and has to be dealt with in the way find best for our own selves.
 It has become clear to me that despite everything which has happened, I am blessed, and here, blessed is being used loosely…blessed by whatever force or power one might wish to think of as existing...or, none at all…random acts if you please.  Understand, this clarity has only recently come to me, for much of the previous year I was submerged in the pain of loss and clear thinking was not my strong suit. Faced with idea of leaving this world and admitting that my previously held notions on the structure, idea, purpose for life were all false and disingenuous, I was able to retreat into myself and find some of the answers I needed to start an attempt at living forward. At this point, i came to the corner of myself and all the external forces life had presented to me up to that moment. At a fairly tender age I had been exposed to the horrors of war and had survived with all physical parts intact…those portions missing from my mental self are still being discovered until this very day. After having been a drinker for a good portion of my life, events turned, and I was able to salvage a good part of my pre=drinking self and managed, with the help of DJ to pull our family together through recovery. It was my good fortune to get the girlfriend I wanted, have her agree to marry me, raise three healthy children and spent over 40 years with her. Along the way we created thousands of moments which I can recall today, and which are helping to carry me, along with newly found friends, through the grief and now.
I need to be clear here, these things I talk about are not unique to my situation in and of themselves; they occur in the lives of millions of people, what is unique is my interpretation of them and the fact that only I can feel, try to understand and relate their impact on my life. And that is the very thing that makes all of this so difficult at times.  We each bring our own special selves to the grief, to the loss of that special person and resulting fallout which inevitably has to come; yet in common, we all understand the pain which accompanies that loss. Sorting out and dealing with those things unique to us seems to be the challenge. For me, early on, part of it was the idea that Honesty, Open-ness and Willingness would be required for me to have any chance at decent living forward. It should be understood here that I cannot say that I have applied this with the same degree of intensity all other parts of my life. I had to remind myself that although DJ enhanced my life, she was not my life…my life is my own; she had hers, and I have mine. Some of us may disagree and that is o.k. too as there are no wrong answers here, but, as I’m coming to find, just more questions. How I go forward in the different life cannot be dictated by what DJ might think or want, that has to be something formulated and enacted by me, for me. How I do that is entirely up to me. It is important I think, that we seriously consider this, as all too often it is so easy to buy into the idea that our living forward has to be dependent on what we feel  our partners may have wished; this is not so say that our knowing their likes and possible choices do not come into play, but for me, they cannot take center stage, they have to become parts of the mechanism that I use in propelling me forward.

Putting these things down here, I am not attempting to broadcast some great proclamation from on high, it is my sincere attempt for me to better understand and organize the events and emotions generated by DJ’s death, as they relate to my life now. And to share as a reminder to those who may be in the early throes of agony which grief brings to us all. To let them know that time and a bit of effort on our part to be willing to believe and have hope, that they too, will make it through to some region of improved clarity and better understanding  and more peaceful days regarding the things which have taken place in their lives. It may be difficult to believe that we can survive those early times when we know for certain there is no future possible…when we just know the overwhelming disbelief will never leave us…when we are convinced that we cannot live another day with the thought that we will not have them with us…ever…again; when, as we stare at those reminders, we are overcome with such a sense of loss and desperation that no amount of consolation will do…when we are totally and finally so sure that the next best thing to do is to just lay down and die…right then. But we can…we do and we find that living is what this is all about, death and dying  can be put in it’s proper place, as a part of that living.
 None of this is to say we have to like it, we don’t, I don’t but, there it is. As we emerge into the different life we carry with us the memories, the moments, and those special times which will always be part of us. In tandem with these we try to carry the hope moving forward, that we will enjoy again, laugh again and cry about something other than the loss…that we will live, and, surprisingly we do. It is not an easy journey, but it has to be traveled we have to reach those depths before the heights appear, but the heights are there…I think it really comes down to each of us understanding that this moving forward will not be served to us, no, we have to reach for it, it will not roll by on some convenient moving belt of life for us to merely choose and pluck those things we feel we need and want; we have to be proactive in our efforts to heal and make the next stretch of the journey to our liking as best we can. And since it is ‘our’ journey we do not allow others to dictate neither the pace, distance traveled; advice on what we should and shouldn’t do, how we ‘should’ be feeling, or what goals we might be attempting to reach can be considered, but only with notion that whatever answers we find for any of this ‘only has to make sense to us’.
 So I take each day these days as suggested to me in those early weeks and months, one at a time.Where before, some people, places, and things could trigger an episode of deep anxiety and grief, now many times they are acknowledged and can pass without incident…most times. There are still waves of grief…times when the missing and loneliness appears to inundate me with all the pain and fear from that first day…but they roll over and past, allowing me to endure what I must yet be able to accept them as part of the different life. It is understood they will never totally go away, they are as much a part of me now as my knowledge that DJ and I lived and loved together, and just as I would not want that memory to be erased, I cannot expect not to have the pangs of hurt caused by her absence and still be honest with the entire notion of accepting life on life’s terms…for me that’s simply the way it is and it should be that way.

And Now...

''The journey between who you once were, and who you are now becoming,
                                        is where the dance of life really takes place''
                                                                            Barbara De Angelius


It has been almost 16 months since DJ died as I held her and watched as she took her last breaths on the lounger that still sits in our bedroom; the very same one I'm writing these words from now. Those months have passed as I struggled in those early days just to stay alive...literally, I had made up my mind to depart with DJ the day we got the diagnosis; I lived with that thought through the 4 years until her death.  In the weeks soon after, I struggled with coming to terms with DJ's death and all that it brought to the fore in my life, my now, different life. Attending Grief Share and a single one on one session helped some, but after about 10 weeks, I was on the edge. At the time I only vaguely understood how deep the impact of the shock truly went. It was only a weak grasp I had about the idea of the roller coaster of emotions and the waves of grief, as any of us, newly introduced to close, intimate loss can only have. At this time I was being assailed by them all...seemingly at once. Going through the motions, relying on auto pilot to carry me through those days, I tried to do the things I had always done; work, staying in close touch with our family, but I was still miserable. Finally I was able to pull back from the despair which held me, mainly through the contents here on this site and the supportive folks I found here. A road back to some semblance of a 'normal' life was shown to me and I really began the trek...the journey.
In that fresh time, with unsure steps my constant companions were fear, doubt, despair, bewilderment and many of the other unruly but seemingly necessary traveling partners, they appeared to be leading the way; guiding me down side roads which, which tho different, all led to that special area of the living hell apparently reserved for those who suffer the loss of a spouse or partner.  For those who are not currently making or have not had to make the trip, it is impossible to for them to adequately understand, for it to be described to them with any real meaning, the flurry of emotions which seem to be constantly assailing us, or to accurately relay the complete sense of devastation which envelops us is almost impossible. Those feelings and emotions of that fresh time return periodically to remind us of the true nature of what has occurred, I'm finding that it appears to have to be this way. But it does ease, the days flow and in time if we are fortunate some healing can begin. Coming to terms with it all is exhausting to say the least, I can say that for me, without question, I have never felt so tired from apparently doing absolutely nothing but sitting, laying and crying. Weeks of that ended and I began to get a better feel for the drastic changes which came and were to come. Getting around alone, driving, walking through stores...eating. None of it enjoyable but much of it very necessary. Early on it had been told to me that no matter how I approached the loss of DJ, work would be necessary...it was made clear to me that time would pass but what would be important was how I used that time. Taking ideas from the counseling, and later after having a confrontation with myself, trying to use online resources, I became able to make the attempt to find safe places in my mind for the memory of DJ and our life together. When I write that I do not mean safe places from the thoughts and opinions others might have...I am talking about safe places from my own thoughts, places where I can visit those memories and not have the terrible pain and the terror that accompanied them in the beginning.
By putting my thoughts and reflections down in word I was able to better understand not only what had happened in regards to DJ dying, but also, how she had affected every aspect of my life and how all of the memories were affecting me now. This effort also allowed me to feel all the hurt and joy those memories carried with them; I found all of this to be necessary for me, necessary because I had to bring into focus and view those things in the hard light of the reality of her death and come away with an understanding that made sense to me and one I could live with. In doing this I realized that the entirety of the journey, and any answers and understanding I gained, tho it may be understood by others enduring the same situation, this realization only had to make sense to me, for in the end, I am the only one who has to live with it all. Many of the things I came to understand, I did not like...neither about me, parts of our life together, and even DJ; but because there were facts, the truth, I could come to accept them. Of course in doing all of this there are the long fatiguing days and lonely and even longer nights where sleep is a stranger and reality has it's due and brings with it all the sadness and despair one can imagine; shedding tears is the only human expression I have found that truly transmits how deep and powerful the emotions go. And as that time passed, and the better days began to string together for longer periods of time, the crying evolved from every night to every other night, to every other week and so occurs only every now and then...the pain has eased, but the missing and the loneliness remain as a reminder that something very special to me is absent. Soon months had passed and new untried routines developed, a different way of life takes hold and we try to live. Finding the anticipation of the approach of the various holidays, where family was always such a part of, and the days just prior to the first year date, were much more prone to cause anxiety than the actually day, my spirits were buoyed by the good thoughts of our life together and the support of new friends. I have come to believe that many of the harder more deeply felt emotions springing from our loss have to be that way; we loved our partners deeply, beyond our ability to enunciate and we 'have' to feel those things regardless of the pain involved in doing so. Slowly with new outlooks on some very old everyday things, we move forward, learning, trying, and actually becoming the 'different' people we really are these days. Losing friends, making new ones, giving up old habits, developing different ones, coming to terms with what we are faced with, we find that which is so aptly expressed in a somewhat dated, but very appropriate movie line: we have to ''...get busy living or  die...''. Nowhere throughout these words will you find 'easy' mentioned...these things we find we have to do are not easy, many may be simple, but they all require a great deal of effort on our part to integrate them into our different lives. Finding hope, coming to believe that acceptance, whatever our own definition of that comes to be, is possible, understanding that we cannot live in those dark place for the duration...these and more are all part of our journey.
And so we arrive at what now...many challenges have been met, we have come to believe and appear ready for our next stretch of the road...but what is that to be? How do we shift from living in and with the states of sadness and all that entails, and, for a while, having that state to nearly consume us? My answer to date is I don't know. What I do know is that today I can believe there are no limits to however I might choose to shape this different life; today I understand better that the intense emotions and huge psychological shift necessary to embrace this different life are part of this and will occur. I believe it will happen not only because of our efforts but also because our human natures will allow us to sit for only so long without hope, without joy, without the idea of the possible existing in our lives today. We will agonize through it, we will despair over it, we may even resort to trying to fool ourselves about it...but at some point we will find that not only can we do it, we come to know that full living again is something we want and must have. Negative comments about this from others cannot deter us, troublesome obstacles will not block us, internal debate and wrangling only serves to better inform us on how we make the approaches to whatever we decide to move forward with. We may find that, 'And Now...' , we truly discover and utilize the potential of our human spirit.