Dealing With Loss

 

   This weeks blog is of a personal nature with not much emphasis on writing. Although, in a way, writing this is a positive step in my journey of healing from minor brain damage and the burden of grief. 

   On January 14th, 2022, I lost the woman who made my life complete. Loving her was fun, adventurous, and so rewarding. I suppose we could have been considered soul-mates. Unfortunately, that's not as wonderful as it sounds. The two of you are so focused on what is best for the other person, you loss sight of your own needs. It's like two people standing at door, going nowhere, saying, "You first", "No, you first."

   When we first met in high school, it felt so right and natural when we held hands. A habit we continued for the next fifty years no matter where we were or how we felt. Marriage was never in the cards for us. Sometimes it was best for her if we didn't marry, and sometimes best for me. The idea of marriage came up many times over the years,

   Born with a hereditary, incurable kidney disease, the chances of her living past the age of thirty were pretty slim. This was long before transplants and dialysis made it possible to extend her life. She did not want to have children and pass on the disease to another generation. I really wanted children so getting married after high school wouldn't work for either of us.

    With a dismal future ahead of her, she decided to live life to the fullest and go out with a bang. This was the time of sex, drugs, and rock & roll so off she went to Los Angeles. She fell right in with the "IN" crowd in Hollywood for the wild life. I married her best friend, joined the Navy and settled in San Diego.

   After several years of working for an escort service, being a David Carradine groupie, she hooked up with a rich young man from New Orleans. None of this brought her any happiness. Then our relationship came to mind. The more she thought about us, the greater the desire to find me. I had never stopped thinking about her.

   Don't ask me to explain it, maybe our spirits were linked, I don't know. She headed for San Diego, even though she had no idea if I was there or not. Once there, a quick check in the phone book and there I was. She showed up on our doorstep and lived with us for awhile. My wife was understanding at first, but eventually became jealous of our relationship and asked her to leave. Even so, she became a major part of our family. She agreed to be our children's Godmother, went camping with us and helped my wife with the kids when I went overseas.

   I left the Navy and moved my family back up to Washington. My soul-mate followed about a month later. She eventually got married, but we still spent time together when we could. When her husband and my wife had an affair, the topic of marriage came up again. By this time her future life expectancy had greatly improved due to advances in treatment. She wanted to pursue her life-long dream of raising horses. I didn't much care for horses, even though I would always go riding with her when she asked. I was heavily into building and racing cars. We decided not to ruin our close relationship with marriage.

   We always knew when either of us was having difficulty dealing with life. Regardless of whether or not we were married, a weekend get away, or road trip of one or two weeks reset our lives. It's like we created some kind of energy between us when we were alone that just made life better.

   By the time we reached our sixties and she had divorced her second husband, both of us were experiencing declining health. I remarried my first wife strictly for financial reasons as I could no longer work and Social Security wasn't enough to live on.

   The state decided she could no longer live on her own and put her in a nursing home. When I found out, I went to her case worker and asked what I needed to do to get her out of that home. She told me I would have to complete the training to become a certified home care aide. So that's what I did and brought her home to live with us. 

   The next ten years was a special tine for us. When she contracted a deadly virus and the medication they gave her attacked not only the virus, but also her joints, I was there for her. It hurt me so bad that I could do nothing to ease her pain. When your kidneys have failed, pain medication no longer works. All I could do was sit and hold her hand while she cried. Several years later, after my open heart surgery and I was pretty helpless, she returned the favor and took care of me during recovery.  

   It still amazes me how our relationship grew and matured over the years. A partnership I've never experienced with anyone else. We talked about anything and everything. Nothing was off limits. We shared things we'd never shared with anyone else. I always felt like we were anchors keeping each other from drifting away. Now my anchor is gone and I'm adrift. The memory of her passing in the middle of our conversation that morning still shatters me. The memories still hurt.

   I've included a poem I wrote six months after she passed.

   Thanks for reading.

Grief has no boundaries

 

When will it end?

The memory of you sends me spiraling into an abyss no amount of tears can fill.

I feel like I’m wearing an old suit ten sizes too big for the emptiness of my life.

Every day I try to focus my mind on something, anything with meaning.

Every night I cry myself to sleep when nothing has changed. You are still gone.

Why am I still here?

The vision of your life fleeing from your eyes while I held your hand is burned into my brain and haunts me.

What did I do wrong?

I was supposed to take care of you.

I failed.

How can a broken heart be healed when half is lost?

The pain is like nothing I’ve ever felt before as I’m being crushed by the unbearable weight of emptiness.

When will it end?