no longer part of my life

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

no longer part of my life

Read an interesting article called "Dating a Widower" from fellow blogger, Abel. Very insightful - though the author received feedback indicating that his tone was somewhat "callous".

He had stated that his first wife was "no longer part of his life".

I respectfully submit that I don't consider that statement - or the tone of the article - to be 'callous'.

Ok, this is my diary and my party...so those who stumble upon this blog will have to deal with my ramblings and opinions, mwah-ha-ha...

That said, my two cents:

My spouse is dead.

He's never coming back.

I'll never see him again in this life.

Never, ever, ever.

He was cremated and what's left of his physical form now exists as pulverized grains of bone sitting in a cardboard box. A bit of him is also contained in an urn that I wear upon my neck...the rest has been scattered at sea and other locations that he enjoyed throughout his life.

So you know what? He's no longer a part of my life.

It's not to say that I don't think about him, or miss him, or get depressed about the fact that he's undeniably gone.

I do. Quite often, in fact.

And I'm anything but callous or unfeeling. My feelings for Rich are as strong and unyielding as they ever were. They are unequivocably a part of who I am.

Afterall, I'm a composite of the many people, experiences and emotions that I've encountered over the years.

And Rich Hyams was a part of my life for almost 20 years...

But he's not any longer. Hasn't been in 11.5 months.

There's such guilt associated with loss - and yeah, this is cliche'....you read about it in the dullest of grief/self-help books.

We're alive. They're dead.

We survived. They succumbed.

We're alone. They're...dead.

Or if you're spiritual, you may believe they're flitting about the heavens, with their eternal soul partners, somehow able to weave in and out of our lives as they see fit.

They're having the time of their, uh, un-lives, and we're left here to weep and mourn and miss them terribly.

Part of you is guilty as hell for getting to live - and the other is somewhat pissed that they've moved onto the next level without you.

So what the hell am I trying to say? I guess I'm saying that it's OK to come to the realization that your dead spouse is no longer part of your life.

There should be no guilt or remorse or ill-feelings about admitting this. In fact, I kind of see it as part of the "acceptance", the healing, the moving-on part of a widow's life.

We all make choices in life. And I've chosen to live.

I recognized early in the game that I could have very easily hidden under a rock, given up, thrown in the towel...stopped living. And I'm not necessarily talking suicide, though it did seriously cross my mind a day or so after Rich died.

No, I'm talking about sleepwalking through life. Heart-beating and lungs breathing, but in reality stuck - paralyzed by the loss, by the experience and afraid to do whatever's needed to continue on my way.

So thank you, Abel, for being astute - and sharing your experience with us.

Here's his article: http://abelkeogh.com/writing/datingawidower.php

*hops off soapbox & lands in a puddle with a splash*

posted by oren_ishii at 12:50 PM 1 comments