“There comes a moment
In grief
Where the focus shifts
When we start
remembering their life
Before recalling their death”
TheGriefToolbox.com
There is probably a description, maybe more than one for this effect, this scenario of our starting to recall more of the living or our partners than their deaths, but I haven’t bothered to seek it out, to me, descriptions regarding our grief only go so far in helping and I’d rather spend the time and energy trying to understand and maybe relate how what is happening has and is currently affecting me. Noticing this before I came across this quote, I had not put much thought into it; after coming across the words, I began to relate it to what I had began to see happening with my own thoughts this year. It is interesting to me that our minds might work in this manner, responding to the shock and pain of the grief by presenting us not only with the ability to feel and absorb the full impact of what has occurred, but allowing, almost forcing us to do so over a given period, it won’t be rushed, with each person’s rate of full absorption being as unique as each of our personal individual experiences are. One more thread to weave into our pattern for future living, and a nod to the vagaries of the human condition.
My mind, at first sending me to the depths the situation demanded with no clear indication that a return was possible; next, forcing me to wallow there amid the then, mostly painful memories of DJ’s death and the life she and I shared, knowing that it would never be again and bringing me to the point of self destruction. Being uninitiated, fear, terror and an anger I did not recognize then, reigned supreme for a good period while I struggled to try to get a handhold on the reality which will be mine for the duration. The fear and terror was managed with only a few setbacks; admitting to and dealing with the anger proved to be a somewhat more taxing effort. At first I felt I wasn’t angry, trying to place things in the confines of logic, I reasoned that I knew the mere act of living indicated that death was inevitable, so why be angry. Being able to dupe myself into thinking this I went along, wallowing in the grief and thinking of me as doing all those things necessary to effectively process what had happened. But the more I thought about the anger aspect and how I knew that for me, at one time, being able to get angry and sustain a resentment about something for quite some time, was not unusual. I realized that my own ‘anger’ about things was really that of being angry at having absolutely nothing to be angry with. Was I to be angry with DJ’s colon? Maybe the ER Dr. who gave us the first indication…maybe at myself, for that time, before, when DJ said she thought she should go see a doctor and I said ‘tomorrow’; perhaps I could be angry with the Chemo medicine for not curing her, but then again, I do think it extended her life. Certainly not upset with the doctor who treated DJ throughout the illness…the doctor to whom at our very first meeting I told if she was not going to tell it all, straight, to let us know right then and we would find one who would…and she did tell it, laser straight. Even to the last visit when she informed DJ and me that the Chemo course had been ran…twice and there was no more to be done. Angry at my Higher Power…that one whom had relieved me of my obsession with booze and made an enjoyable life with DJ and the children and other family possible. Angry at life perhaps for having this as the final act of its play, altho the majority of the scenes our family had through the years were spectacular…no, anger at life wasn’t possible. So for the most part, I am trying to let go of the entire notion of any anger associated with DJ’s death. It is not easy.
Like most of us, I am no stranger to anger both my own and that of others and I understand my own response to it well; being frustrated at not being able to place that anger somewhere is understandable, at least to me. I am reminded of an incident which took place soon after I joined the official workforce, I was fourteen and working at a car wash my dad managed, the first ‘automatic’ one in a local suburb; altho it was called automatic, there were still men in rain suits brushing the cars down in the midst of the spraying water and moving roller brushes. My duties were to maintain order in the gas pump area where the cars lined up and to pump gas. This car wash was part of a filling station and had at least 5 graded aprons leading into it, three of those led to the pumps reserved for those getting a carwash, and at that point, three lines of cars became two, one on either side of the pump. Most times it was orderly with the three lines merging into the two…the customers self policing themselves in understanding just who was next. Every now and then someone would get impatient and make an improper move…I would watch as the shouting would occur, but usually it was sorted out. Now, I had been given a tall traffic cone to place in front of cars if necessary as they merged, I could easily remember who should be next as they approached the pump. On one occasion a customer must have I thought I made an error as he actually knocked the cone over in an attempt to be next in line for gas…I stepped up on the concrete platform to which the pumps were secured and watched, he appeared angry as I saw him bring the gear shift lever all the way up into ‘Park’ and exit his vehicle, coming towards me with a cigarette dangling from his mouth, he seemed to be upset. I rested one hand on the filler handle and slipped the other in my pocket.
Here, I have to digress and explain something; being a new teenager I had started experimenting with smoking as did many of the guys I ran with. It was a ritual with us, and part of the implements required of course was a Zippo lighter. To light a cigarette with a match was considered lame. But a stock Zippo would never do; we altered ours by removing the original wick and replacing it with an adequate length of lace from a gym shoe, this gave an extraordinary flame and made the Zippo really windproof. Those of us who owned these modified lighters were easy to spot as most of us had singed eyebrows or small burn marks on our faces. Not only that, another part of the ritual was, if you were really to be cool, you had to be able to snap your Zippo open by placing your thumb on the bottom and first two fingers across the top, and in one quick motion open the lighter making it produce it’s distinctive cling sound and rotate the striker wheel to produce the flame. I had plenty of practice and became quite adept at this.
As the gentleman approached he seemed intent on some type of correction for me, at least I thought so, I stood next to the pump watching. When he got about 3 or 4 feet from me, I lifted the filler hose and brought my Zippo from my pocket, with no time for theatrics, I merely flicked the top open, the cling sound drew his attention as I asked “Need a light sir..?” The man stopped, looked at my one hand on the handle and the other holding the unlit Zippo, after a few seconds he returned to his car and drove over the cone as he got out of line and left the station. That man had been angry and I think he intended to let me know that, instead, he took it out on the cone. To this day I have no idea why he was angry, he had knocked my cone down first. I have no idea what he had in mind, but nothing in my background to that point led me to believe I had to stand for any anger or correction from him, or any other stranger. Knowing how I was prepared to deal with someone’s anger has helped me in trying to find a suitable safe place for my own barley understood anger concerning grief.
At first I wanted to continue saying I wasn’t angry, but I found that wasn’t possible, I did feel anger. So I’ve decided to let my anger be about no being able to find something to be angry with concerning DJ’s death. We’ll see how that works out. It solves a couple of things for me tho; one, it allows me to accept that anger is a natural reaction to what has happened. And by that acceptance, allows me to exert whatever anger energy I have, in some direction even if that direction is, having nothing to name as being upset with. This is allowing me to find a safe place for it in my scheme of grief and frees me of the pain associated with being frustrated by it. So my answer for the anger is to be angry about not having something to be angry about, but I don’t put a lot of time in on it. All that may or may not make sense, to me it does and I’m running with it. So now the memories about our life BC (Before Cancer), are starting to come first…the actions and events of those years before we had to think about time and our shortage of it. The memories of our lives which like most had it’s ups and downs, it’s highs and lows…but which we reveled in and thoroughly enjoyed. From the early courting days and all the firsts they bring, to first acknowledgments of being attracted to one another…first tender moments…first times of really understanding the person you not only say you love, but whom you really like. There are memories of the first doubts about what we were embarking on, the unknowing and indecisions of young minds attempting to forge a life from the basic ideas we had formed up to that point…the questioning, the learning to agree, disagree, compromise, cry, argue, and support one another. These days I can say that I am having those types of memories first and can tell you that in my own case they are not bringing pain.
For a while I was under the impression that I would always first think about DJ in terms of her death. When this year of hard realization started and I noticed that things which had bothered me previously, no longer did so, it made me feel kind of out of sorts…I could not understand what was happening. This quote and other things have helped to bring things into better perspective and has affirmed that what I have been feeling is evidently a part of the journey. It may be something we need to remind one another of more often, that tho the road may be difficult and that our minds appear to be filled only with the thoughts about our partners dying, that it is probable that there will come a time when dying won’t be the first thoughts we have about them. In time we will be better able to organize our memories and have them come to us in a more chronologically natural fashion. Of course early on this would have been hard to believe, but I don’t think that should stop us from putting it out there. There is no telling just who may find that spark of hope in knowing this. Of all the quotes, sayings, mottos &ct which I have come across, this is the very first time I had seen this particular one and I’m glad I did. It has given me another avenue by which to approach the mental task of coming to terms with what has occurred. Back when I knew everything and had almost convinced myself that I didn’t want to go on without DJ, I could not even admit that anger was a part of my thinking. I had thought myself above that and concentrated my efforts on the terror and bewilderment I was feeling. Eventually I came to the conclusions stated above and have found it tolerable if not definite.
It is good to know that what the quote above states can come true; we don’t have to be trapped in the hell of forever reliving only those dreaded moments about our partners and the circumstances which took their lives. We can have hope that alto we must make the journey, travel the road, it does become smoother. For me, I’m finding that being willing to adopt and adjust those things necessary to believe in the possible of the different life is making a great difference, being able to believe in the wisdom offered by those who have gone before us can be a challenge, but is something I think we have to invest in. As I’m finding, the memories of our life together are all I have of DJ now and if they are to be a livable part of me, they cannot come with that early fear and pain. They have to not only come without pain, I’m now convinced, that her dying, altho the last physical act for her on this earth, cannot be the first thing I remember.
__________________________________________________________________________
“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go, you go), my dear…” -eecummings
No comments:
Post a Comment