A public update - Forever Changed
I am going against my typical feelings about this journal and am posting a public update about myself. For those of you that are local and have tried to get in touch with me, I hope this will help to answer some of your questions. For others online that have followed our story, this will tell you how I am doing.
I'm going to open this post with something that I found online. It comes from a newsletter written by Rhonda Wilson Asbeboro. It pretty much sums things up for me, as well as anyone that has lost the love of their life.
"Can you see the change in me? I attend family reunions. I help plan holiday meals. You tell me you're glad I don't cry anymore. But I do cry. When everyone has gone - when it is safe the tears fall. I cry in privacy so my family won't worry. I cry until I am exhausted and can finally sleep. I'm active in my church. I sing the hymns. I listen to the sermon. You tell me you admire my strength and positive attitude. But I'm not strong. I feel that I have lost control, and I panic when I think about tomorrow...next week,...next month...next year. I go about the routine of my job...I complete my assigned tasks. I drink coffee and smile. You tell me you're glad to see I'm "over" the death of my loved one. But I'm not "over" it. If I get over it, I will be the same as before my loved one died. I will never be the same. At times I think I am beginning to heal, but the pain of loosing someone I loved so much has left a permanent scar in my heart. I visit my neighbors. You tell me you're glad to see I'm holding up so well. But I'm not holding up well. Sometimes I want to lock my doors and hide from the world. I spend time with friends. I appear calm and collected. I smile when appropriate. You tell me it's good to see me back to my "old self". But I will never be back to my "old self". Death and grief have touched my life, and I am forever changed.
It's been a rough few months as I have fought to pick up the pieces of my life. It's tough going on when you just really don't want to. When you've lost the true love that you searched so long for. As much as I don't even want to get out of bed on some mornings, I do. I'm attempting to work - approximately 25-30 hours per week. I come home to what seems like a million things to do and then attempt to relax.
Many of you I have spoken with and many I have not. I don't have the energy or the time to keep up with everyone. My attention span is that of a 2 year old. And quite honestly, I am just really comfortable being here by myself with the girls. I love being at home ... in this house that Pat and I dreamed of ... and eventually bought.
It's a long and hard journey. I've accepted the fact that I am a "widow", and that word just kills me, to be honest. But I accepted that indeed, that is what I am. Another step in the process has been reached. Will things ever be the same? No. Will I ever be the same? No. All I can do is the best that I can and attempt to pick up the pieces.
To all of those that have shown incredible compassion and support I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don't know what I would have done without you in my life. That reminds me of another thing that someone told me ... "There is nothing like support when you need it and nothing can convey the gratitude we feel for those who helped us stand when we wanted to fall...". What a true and powerful statement that is.
Unfortunately along this journey I also learned about people that are less than compassionate. Losing your spouse, the love of your life, is not something that you get over in a week or a month. And having people in your life at a time like this that are incredibly selfish and that just don't get it ... well, if you are ever in my shoes, run as far away as you can from them. In times like this, I have learned the best friends are the ones that empathasize with your situation. They may not understand it completely because they have not been in this situation, but they empathasize. And they pull you under their wing to do whatever they can to help you through the difficult times. To those that don't get it ... unfortunately they may never get it until they find themselves in this horrible situation themselves. Perhaps then they will understand how their toxicity and insensitive actions and statements are the last thing that someone needs in this situation. And since I believe in karma, I know that it will all come back to bite them in the ass. Treating people like shit and kicking them when they are at the lowest point of their life and going through the most major life change there is, well that's nothing more than a fine example of the lowest human form there is.
Pat would have turned 47 a few weeks ago. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. And right after that, it will be 4 months since I lost him. The time since his birthday has been the most difficult yet, and I have been thrown back in time and it's been like October all over again. I am continuing with my year of firsts and I hate it. But, in baby steps, I am getting there. I'm determined to win this battle, and thanks to so many of you, I am on my way. A part of Pat is always here with me and I'm a better person for that. And he is behind me all the way. I'm stumbling through, still trying to find my way.
To all that have called and emailed - thank you. I'll resurface sometime and we'll get together - probably when my attention span is longer than that of a 2 year old. I appreciate you calling to check on me. To those that have been such a huge help through the hard times - thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all.
I'm going to open this post with something that I found online. It comes from a newsletter written by Rhonda Wilson Asbeboro. It pretty much sums things up for me, as well as anyone that has lost the love of their life.
"Can you see the change in me? I attend family reunions. I help plan holiday meals. You tell me you're glad I don't cry anymore. But I do cry. When everyone has gone - when it is safe the tears fall. I cry in privacy so my family won't worry. I cry until I am exhausted and can finally sleep. I'm active in my church. I sing the hymns. I listen to the sermon. You tell me you admire my strength and positive attitude. But I'm not strong. I feel that I have lost control, and I panic when I think about tomorrow...next week,...next month...next year. I go about the routine of my job...I complete my assigned tasks. I drink coffee and smile. You tell me you're glad to see I'm "over" the death of my loved one. But I'm not "over" it. If I get over it, I will be the same as before my loved one died. I will never be the same. At times I think I am beginning to heal, but the pain of loosing someone I loved so much has left a permanent scar in my heart. I visit my neighbors. You tell me you're glad to see I'm holding up so well. But I'm not holding up well. Sometimes I want to lock my doors and hide from the world. I spend time with friends. I appear calm and collected. I smile when appropriate. You tell me it's good to see me back to my "old self". But I will never be back to my "old self". Death and grief have touched my life, and I am forever changed.
It's been a rough few months as I have fought to pick up the pieces of my life. It's tough going on when you just really don't want to. When you've lost the true love that you searched so long for. As much as I don't even want to get out of bed on some mornings, I do. I'm attempting to work - approximately 25-30 hours per week. I come home to what seems like a million things to do and then attempt to relax.
Many of you I have spoken with and many I have not. I don't have the energy or the time to keep up with everyone. My attention span is that of a 2 year old. And quite honestly, I am just really comfortable being here by myself with the girls. I love being at home ... in this house that Pat and I dreamed of ... and eventually bought.
It's a long and hard journey. I've accepted the fact that I am a "widow", and that word just kills me, to be honest. But I accepted that indeed, that is what I am. Another step in the process has been reached. Will things ever be the same? No. Will I ever be the same? No. All I can do is the best that I can and attempt to pick up the pieces.
To all of those that have shown incredible compassion and support I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don't know what I would have done without you in my life. That reminds me of another thing that someone told me ... "There is nothing like support when you need it and nothing can convey the gratitude we feel for those who helped us stand when we wanted to fall...". What a true and powerful statement that is.
Unfortunately along this journey I also learned about people that are less than compassionate. Losing your spouse, the love of your life, is not something that you get over in a week or a month. And having people in your life at a time like this that are incredibly selfish and that just don't get it ... well, if you are ever in my shoes, run as far away as you can from them. In times like this, I have learned the best friends are the ones that empathasize with your situation. They may not understand it completely because they have not been in this situation, but they empathasize. And they pull you under their wing to do whatever they can to help you through the difficult times. To those that don't get it ... unfortunately they may never get it until they find themselves in this horrible situation themselves. Perhaps then they will understand how their toxicity and insensitive actions and statements are the last thing that someone needs in this situation. And since I believe in karma, I know that it will all come back to bite them in the ass. Treating people like shit and kicking them when they are at the lowest point of their life and going through the most major life change there is, well that's nothing more than a fine example of the lowest human form there is.
Pat would have turned 47 a few weeks ago. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. And right after that, it will be 4 months since I lost him. The time since his birthday has been the most difficult yet, and I have been thrown back in time and it's been like October all over again. I am continuing with my year of firsts and I hate it. But, in baby steps, I am getting there. I'm determined to win this battle, and thanks to so many of you, I am on my way. A part of Pat is always here with me and I'm a better person for that. And he is behind me all the way. I'm stumbling through, still trying to find my way.
To all that have called and emailed - thank you. I'll resurface sometime and we'll get together - probably when my attention span is longer than that of a 2 year old. I appreciate you calling to check on me. To those that have been such a huge help through the hard times - thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I thank you all.