I am mourning the death of my beloved, my husband Dave, who died just a little over three weeks ago. Cancer took him away from me. Some days I find that I can handle it okay and other days I feel like I am going to die myself. I read some stuff about grief recently and keeping a journal and writing stuff down was one of the ways that was suggested to deal with the emotions that come at these times.
I think that it might help because I have already begun to write things about my life with Dave and have been sharing them with others, on paper, in my blog. That helps me a lot because I don't want ANY of my memories of him to fade even a shade. And so I have begun chronicling those memories. In 20 years, I want to look back and still see his beautiful, handsome face as clearly as I do today, not gaunt and ravaged by the cancer, but vibrant and so full of love and life that he made my heart sing every time I looked at him. He was an extraordinary man and I was blessed beyond words to have been loved by him and to have spent 16 years with him. My only regret about our life together -the only regret I have - is that I didn't find him sooner in my life, that way I could have had some more time with him.
Today I am not having a very good day. Yesterday, I was shopping at the market with my mom and suddenly it hit me that I don't have anybody to cook for now. Nobody to be the tester (or maybe victim would be a better choice of titles) for my kitchen experiments anymore. We have been organic farmers for the last 10 years and so food has been a tremendous part of our life (when you sell veggies to people, you have to be able to tell them what to do with them...) and now there is nobody to share that with me.
I am finding that my grief comes at me from the most unexpected things. Dirty socks in the hamper, a favorite shirt, a song on the radio. I feel paralyzed sometimes because I am afraid of what might trigger a meltdown and so I just sit in a chair, hugging my knees to my chest and cry. Why is this happening to me, why did Dave have to be the one to die so young, why did he leave me all alone? Questions, questions, questions and not an answer in sight. Maybe writing my feelings down will give me those answers or at least let me understand just a little bit.
(Originally written in April, 2010)
