Four months with out Brian…
I spent this morning in the feral feelings of sorrow. The waves of grief came crashing in as soon as I woke up and grabbed a cup of coffee. The overwhelming release of tears continued aggressively throughout the day. I kept asking myself, why this feels so intense…. but I know, of course…. Brian died four months ago- 121 days ago….
One of the last things I said to him was that I would be ok. But honestly even as I said it I knew it wasn’t true. I felt like I only said it to ease his transition. To help him let go… But, I am not ok. I am very much not ok, nor do I feel I will ever be ok- and it’s ok that I am not ok.
Truth is, and I am very much realizing that I have forever been changed. We journeyed through the threshold of dying for years, preparing for end of life. But as much as we, I, prepared for him to die, nothing could have prepared me for a life without him. These tender times are teaching me how unprepared I was to continue living with out him. The sadness, the sorrow, the heartbreak is often unbearable.
There is a loneliness that reverberates throughout my entire body as I long for his presence, his energy, his love. There are moments when the pain hits so hard, I can’t breathe, often bringing me to my knees. I sit with the sacredness of sorrow, allowing the emotion to shower over me….. but this new walk alone, is heavy beyond words.
I am beginning to step back into shared spaces, return to community. I have seen more people and traveled more miles than I had in the past four years. Brian and I were so deeply in woven in our death nest and comfort from home that as I dip my toes into new spaces I often find myself needing to cocoon back into my safe space for days following. It’s an effort of expansion followed by tight a deep need to retreat. I thought I could handle re-entering life - but the sadness afterwards often wrecks me. The world at times feels too loud, too bright, too fun….
The safest and happiest I feel are when I am around those that loved him the most. I feel him the most then. I see him in his people. I feel him in their presence. I hear him when they speak….
A friend made me soup for lunch the other day. She said I was in my season of Winter. And of course that feels in alignment. I am in my season of death. When Brian died a part of myself died right alongside with him. I don’t recognize myself as who I was or who I thought I would be. I am in my own veil of in-between now,…
