My husband passed away six months ago.
I am doing ok, even good sometimes, but there are times during each day that I feel so alone. I think of my husband and my heart physically hurts. I see couples together and I feel confused. They look like a single organism. They are a single organism really. We were a single organism and now he is gone. Where is he? I am confused.
It reminds me of when I was divorced. The single organism, the couple, the family, fell apart. it filled me with grief, confusion and fear. I missed my kids. As angry as I was, I missed my ex.
Somehow, though, the grief, confusion and fear became the doorway through which I began to understand myself. I was forced to deal with the intense emotions that bombarded me. By allowing myself to be with these emotions, rather than pushing them away, I learned so much.
It’s funny. When I was teaching a co-parenting workshop years ago, a participant questioned me about where I “got” the material that I taught. I wanted to say that I got it from school or some authority, but really, although I read profusely and sought out knowledge, a lot of what I “got” was from my own experience of sitting with and exploring my emotions.
At that time, anger and fear were the main focus of my exploration. Grief was definitely there, but it was covered up by anger and fear. Now, grief is in forefront. Grief is my teacher.
I know that my breaking heart is a doorway to something. To love, to joy, to the truth. I know if I allow it, don’t fight it, don’t fight the tears and the feeling of a shattering heart, I will learn better how to be in the moment, how to cherish and love what I see in front of me at any given moment.
This thought keeps coming to me: if I knew the grief in everyone’s heart, EVERYONE’s heart, my “enemies,” people I don’t like, people I don’t understand, my heart would crack open and I would never hate again.
That’s all I’ve got for now. Thank you for reading.