Ode to The Afterwards
"Grief is not a task to finish and move on, but an element of yourself. An alteration of your being. A new way seeing. A new definition of self."
Up until the last year of my husband Marty's life, I had been working as a businesswoman in the corporate world. Luckily, the Universe handed me the gift of being downsized from my job just before his celiac disease went into a refractory state. Marty began wasting away in front of my eyes, and as much as I tried, there was nothing that would or could stop the progress of his disease.
One day Marty told me that he was concerned because he felt that "I (Laurel) had no purpose." When he said that, I got very angry. I left the house, drove to the beach to be the near the ocean and to calm down. I breathed in the ocean air, journaled and returned home with a calmer disposition. I then spoke with Marty and told him, upon reflection, "yes, I do have a purpose, it is to keep you alive!"
At that time, our lives were filled with doctor and emergency room visits, and his multiple hospitalizations. If you would have asked me before all this started, are you capable of handling such a grueling time, I would have said, no - it would overwhelm me! But, I did more than I could have imagined as Marty's sole caregiver and now, with hindsight, I know how precious that time was for both of us.
I could barely breathe from one health crisis to another and was wrapped in fear most of that time. Although I was held together with "spit and glue,” somewhere inside of me was the spirit of a warrior who was in a life and death battle to save Marty.
Finally, my doctor said that it was time to bring in hospice. In those last two weeks of Marty's life, I wearily put down my warrior's shield and turned it over to the angelic hospice staff who entered our home. I was no longer alone and gratefully received the loving care hospice gave to both of us.
On February 11th, 2009 (eight days from our 42nd anniversary,) Marty passed away. After he took his last breath, and I felt his heart stop beating, the fear that had filled my body was released like a pressure cooker. Sitting down on the side of the bed, I felt empty, drained, filled with sadness and grief.
The uncertainty of what was to come was a blur and, truthfully, I didn't care. I was numb - it was one day at at time, one foot in front of the other. Repeat, do it again and then repeat once more.
Grief’s
Cloak
I took off grief’s cloak so that its
heaviness would be removed.
I needed to lift this shroud of pain
and sadness
in order to find out where and who I
was without you.
Little by little, the light within me
was rekindled.
With a newfound sense of freedom, I
grew wings,
felt myself flying, raised up ~ joyous!
Grief’s cloak vanished as I flew.
Riding the waves of life’s currents, I
found myself able to soar
without fear or sorrow coursing through
my veins.
Experiencing things long postponed,
rediscovering life’s possibilities ~
my spirit overflowed with a rainbow of
imaginings.
But wait! Was I also trying to outrun
grief? No hide and seek here,
it was up ahead ~ my mourning was not
complete.
Grief’s cloak is a harsh reminder that
loss is real ~
it cannot be pushed away!
And, if not accepted, even honored,
it will clip my wings and leave me
unable to fly.
With this in mind, I have learned to
say
“Welcome back Grief ~ I acknowledge
your presence!”
In death there are no real endings.
The story of us is woven into the
fabric of my wings,
and you are forever in my heart!
Remaining connected, even though we are
in different forms and space.
You ahead of me, lighting the way ~ the
wind upon which I soar,
the sunlit clouds upon which I perch.
Your spirit gently guides me and also
reminds me that
it is now time
to chart my own course.
Laurel D. Rund ~ 2009
New friendships were formed, I was open to trying out the arts, dancing, dating and just being me. Interestingly enough, several of our couple friends fell off the radar screen. I hear that this happens to others when they have lost their spouse. Some people come into your life for a season and then they leave. This was a hard lesson to learn during such a sad time in my life, but I continued on my wondrous journey - learning to trust the Universe.
And, most unexpectedly, several years later, I met a wonderful man and slowly fell in love. Having an appreciation for and honoring the the individual journey we each experienced before we met, what shaped our lives, is what makes us fit so well together. My husband of today, Phil, is not at all threatened by the love I had and still have for Marty. He loves and appreciates my first marriage, as I do his.
Funny thing...I had adamantly declared that I would never remarry after Marty died. I used to say, “What would be the reason to do that?” and yet I took a leap of faith and did it anyway! Why? I chose to make a commitment to a beautiful soul, a man who knows the I Am of today. Our hearts were meant to be shared -it was bashert (written in the stars.)
In Japan, broken objects are often repaired with gold. The flaw is seen as a unique piece of the object's history, which adds to its beauty. Please consider this when you feel broken or flawed, you are a beloved being.
The essence of who I am has always been there. The gift is that my essence is alive and flourishing today - I am a woman whose journey has created a unique and special human being. Laurel
What a beautiful way you have expressed the journey of losing our spouses. Your story is inspirational! Your writing was the first I read after my husband died 12/12/14- and your words were the beginning of my journey. Thank you Laurel for sharing your story of growth and change - and inspiring others to do the same.
ReplyDeleteI meant to add my name to that post- I am Yvonne Beyer
DeleteThank you Yvonne, I knew you would understand.
ReplyDelete