In my most recent post with you I shared that I had lost my husband in 2023 after a valiant battle with cancer. Losing a spouse will massively derail you in life unless you stand up and really fight back to live, and I mean fight.
Among things derailed,my ability to have the energy or mental clarity to write. Yet writing in my journal these past few years has also been cathartic to release a lot of what I dealt with day to day. It has freed me in so many ways and now, looking back, I can see how far I have come in this journey.
At two years out I think, or maybe I’m wrong, there’s an assumption it’s time to move on and quit talking about it. Especially when your life appears to be going well.
The reality is, he lived, he mattered, he was our person. Talking about him keeps him alive and remembered. Remembering involves tears and laughter. It has moments that are painstakingly, bittersweet, that can almost crush my heart.
And as I shared in my recent post, I’m setting out to write and unpack my suitcase of lessons learned, life still lived, and maybe, some hopeful encouragement to someone reading.
Today I’m examining a thought that may not be known until you walk this road. There is this overall awareness that when your spouse dies is when your grief actually begins.
No one really talks about the grief that sets in years and months before they are actually gone from you. This is especially true if your partner has a disease that they are battling.
The loss comes in all kinds of ways. The worst is the subtleness of how it slowly changes the relationship you had prior to the disease.
The healthy relationship, not the one where a disease begins to set up camp and starts to slowly steal and rob even the most common and ordinary things you share together.
It starts small but gradually things move to you being a protector, you begin to handle more in the relationship, you are more watchful to their needs as they do a little less, and eventually, a lot less. The activities you used to do together become minimal versions or eventually, disappear.
You are aware of their energy level and how it has declined so you step in to do more. Slowly, your relationship changes to a new look.
A new look that neither of you want.
And you grieve.
You cry in the shower or in the car when you take a moment out because the agony of what you’re losing is constantly in front of you and you are helpless to stop it.
An unrelenting reminder that not only are you losing your relationship, you’re slowly, painfully losing them day by day.
And you grieve.
As we moved through increasingly more doctor appointments, tests, scans, and 4.5 hour drives to MD Anderson there was always the new anxiety riding along of what those tests would reveal and how that would further take us down this path.
I took over driving us everywhere ( a job he did not give up lightly or easily) yet another thing in this new angle of our relationship.
On those long trips back home we had lots of hard conversations. Real ones that no one wants to have. As hard as they were, I’m glad we had them.
Sometimes those drives back were at night. He would fall asleep and I’d have nothing but dark highway in front of me for hours, scared, tired, and alone with my thoughts, the tears would come for what I was losing and what we had already lost.
The grief was real and painful long before God called him home.
So when it happens and they are now gone, you aren’t just grieving from that moment of loss, but you are also grieving all of the years,months and days that have gone by while you knew you were losing them.
I had days where all of it, every day in those past years he battled that awful disease, along with him being gone, culminated into agony I can’t describe.
The reality is, no one sees this. They don’t see the intimacy of it or the day to day struggles leading towards your ultimate loss.
They don’t see the grief you already carry.
I hope if you’ve ever had to walk this out that you know I get it, I understand. I hope you know that your grief before your actual loss is valid, I see you.
Take time to honor it all on your journey as you heal and move forward.
sassyfitnesschick 