The Anniversary of the Beginning
I must confess, my last post about facing the fourth anniversary of the start of my grief journey was a bit of a joke to me and not the haha kind. Although I wrote and rewrote it several times, no words seemed to convey what I was experiencing. I couldn’t quite wrap my thoughts around it. In an effort to just get something out, I pushed through the pain.
Yes, the time dilation was real. I found myself obsessing over photos again. With vivid detail, I could remember everything about a particular moment in time. However, as I kept getting pulled back into moments that happened five, seven, ten years, and more, living in the present seemed like the dream I would eventually wake up from. Only to be met in the present with the inevitable shock wave of grief and trauma over and over.
Believe it or not, that’s how the mind of a surviving spouse works, or at least mine does. Here’s the disclaimer: everyone grieves differently, and everyone processes trauma differently. Your experiences and grief journey may be completely different, and that is okay. Start your own blog. It’s very therapeutic. Click here for some inspiration. You can thank me later.
For reasons unknown, this year was particularly hard. I had the best support, and I’m becoming comfortable in this new life I’ve created. Yet, there is still this intense feeling of loss to contend with. I suppose it’s because the loss was sudden and unforeseen. It was thrust upon me, and I simply had to just deal with it and all of its messiness. Messiness like having to renew my truck plates and both of our names are still listed.
Embracing Clarity in Grief
Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about a couple of widows I met while traveling in Florida early on. Each told me their story of losing their husband. Both were sudden, like me, and both were quite similar, although they were hundreds of miles apart. Each one talked about how they got to a point where they just couldn’t go on in the environment they were in. So, they packed up what little they wanted to keep and moved. One to another part of the state and one from a completely different state. Far enough away to start a whole, brand new life. And with that, they seemed content, like they had no regrets at all.
I also find it interesting that one is living her life alone, completely content in her chosen isolation, while the other started a new career and remarried. They did what was best for their survival. That is exactly how I’m feeling; I have known it for some time. I must go. I must go to a place he and I weren’t and start a new life. I’ve done pretty well at reinventing myself; now I have to take it a little further and go and not look back.
The Vulnerability of Moving On
This year’s anniversary came with so many revelations. In grief, clarity will come. I have to caution you, though, and this is another article I plan to write, be very wary in the first few years. Pay particular attention to who you trust, and constantly doubt everyone’s motives. Intense grief makes one vulnerable. I had people take advantage of me in so many different ways in the first few years of my grief journey. They included friends, family, and trusted individuals. Those with a dishonest heart will see an opportunity, and you won’t know what’s coming because of the cloud of grief.
Solace by The Lake
So there it is. Another year has passed. I can’t say I have much to show for it except for the clarity and maybe a better grip on my life. I know more of what I want, don’t want, and will tolerate. Oh, the book—yeah, then there is that. Incidentally, I’m learning the business of promotion and advertising. I haven’t made a million dollars yet.
As for my anniversary, I spent my day on the beach, one of the best places on earth. Some of the following day was spent there too. Then, on Sunday, I watched one of the most amazing sunrises. It always brings me peace, and this year was no different.
Enjoy the photos 🙂
Thanks for reading. –xxooC
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