Saturday, March 12, 2011

A letter to my friends and family......

Today I have just felt worn out.  Worn out physically, and worn out emotionally.  I don't feel like I can take much more of it all.  I know I have to keep putting one foot in front of the other, for my boys' sake, but man it is a hard thing to do.  I just want to sleep it all away.

Yesterday was a little bit of a bittersweet day.  We got some pictures taken.  I wanted to get some taken before Kayden wasn't a little baby anymore.  They grow up so dang fast.  So I called the girls' moms, and had all of the kids together for a fun little photo shoot.  The kids all had fun, and I hope the pictures turned out good.  I should have them back in a week or so.  While I am glad I got them done, it was hard at the same time.  Pat was supposed to be here with us, taking pictures.  Although we talked about it on numerous occasions, we never got the chance to get family pictures taken, with all of the kids included.  The only pictures we have of all of us together, are from the dinner we had right before he passed away.  Don't get me wrong, I am grateful that we at least have that, but it's disappointing because we wanted to do 'real' family pictures together.  We just never got the chance.  It sucks. 

Speaking of pictures, I don't think I mentioned that I took the computer, that crashed, into Best Buy.  Unfortunately they were unable to transfer the files to my new computer.  I am pretty upset about it, because as I said before, all of my pictures of Pat were on there.  Some of them are replaceable.  Most of them are not.  Our wedding pictures were on there, but I have a backup CD of those.  All the pictures from Oklahoma were on there, but they are also on my phone.  The ones that aren't replaceable were pictures taken on a trip to Seattle in 2009.  Some of them I posted on Facebook, but I only posted a few of them on there.  For instance, there were several pictures taken at certain locations, and I only posted the 'best' one out of the group.  I also only posted pictures that had Pat in them, but we took pictures of the scenery, and pictures of Keegan and I, and those I did not post to Facebook.  I think we had close to 1000 pictures of that trip.  I am hoping that I backed up those pictures, to a CD, but I can't remember for sure, and I won't know until I go through all the boxes in storage, once I get my own place.

I hope I get in to a place soon.  I feel like I can't even begin to move forward, even in baby steps, until I have my own place.  I just want to be able to unpack all of those boxes, that are sitting in storage.  Unpack all the memories.  Yes, I know it will be hard at the same time, but I just want to touch all of his stuff.  Touch it.  Feel it.  Smell it.  Remember him.

I came across a couple of 'letters to family/friends' that I would like to share.  They were not written by me, but basically cover what I am feeling.  There were two different ones, and I couldn't decide between the two (imagine that!) so I am just going to share both of them.

How You Can Help Me

Please talk about my loved one, even though he is gone. It is more
comforting to cry than to pretend that he never existed. I need to talk
about him, and I need to do it over and over.

Be patient with my agitation. Nothing feels secure in my world. Get
comfortable with my crying. Sadness hits me in waves, and I never know
when my tears may flow. Don't ever feel that you have made me cry.
The tears are always there and I appreciate the opportunity to shed them.
Just sit with me in silence and hold my hand.

Don't abandon me with the excuse that you don't want to upset me. You
can't catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid
to call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when I
most need to be cared about. If you don't know what to say, just come
over, give me a hug or touch my arm, and gently say, "I'm sorry." You
can even say, "I just don't know what to say, but I care, and want you
to know that."

Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good. Ask me how I
feel only if you really have time to find out.

I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick. I'm grieving
and that's different. My grieving may only begin 6 months after my loved
one's death. Don't think that I will be over it in a year. For I am not only
grieving his death, but also the person I was when I was with him,
the life that we shared, the plans we had for watching our children and
grandchildren grow, the places we will never get to go together, and
the hopes and dreams that will never come true. My whole world has
crumbled and I will never be the same.

I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget my
loved one and rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life and
love into the rest of my life. He is a part of me and always will be,
and sometimes I will remember him with joy and other times with a
tear. Both are okay.

I don't have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it has
happened and it is real, but there are some things in life that are just
not acceptable.

When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost and
alone. I feel badly enough that my loved one is dead, so please don't
make it worse by telling me I'm not doing this right.

Please don't tell me I can find someone else or that I need to start dating
again. I'm not ready. And maybe I don't want to. And besides, what
makes you think people are replaceable? They aren't. Whoever (if anyone at all) comes
after will always be someone different.

I don't even understand what you mean when you say, "You've got to get
on with your life." My life is going on, I've been forced to take on
many new responsibilities and roles. It may not look the way you think
it should. This will take time and I will never be my old self again. So
please, just love me as I am today, and know that with your love and
support, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget
and there will always be times that I cry.

I need to know that you care about me. I need to feel your touch, your
hugs. I need you just to be with me, and I need to be with you. I need
to know you believe in me and in my ability to get through my grief in
my own way, and in my own time.

Please don't say, "Call me if you need anything." I'll never call you
because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could
do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you
some ideas:

(a) Bring food or a movie over to watch together.
(b) Send me a card on special holidays, his birthday, and the
anniversary of his death, and be sure to mention his name. You can't
make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the
opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to
reach out on this difficult day.
(c) Ask me more than once to join you at a movie or lunch or dinner. I
may so no at first or even for a while, but please don't give up on me
because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you've given
up then I really will be alone.
(d) Understand how difficult it is for me to be surrounded by couples,
to walk into events alone, to go home alone, to feel out of place in the
same situations where I used to feel so comfortable.

Please don't judge me now - or think that I'm behaving strangely.
Remember I'm grieving. I may even be in shock. I am afraid. I may
feel deep rage. I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt. I'm
experiencing a pain unlike any I've ever felt before and one that can't
be imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.

Don't worry if you think I'm getting better and then suddenly I seem to
slip backward. Grief makes me behave this way at times. And please
don't tell me you know how I feel, or that it's time for me to get on with
my life. What I need now is time to grieve.

Most of all thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience.
Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank
you for praying for me.









The second 'letter':


To My Friend

I have lost the one I love, the one I cherish. My lover, my best friend, my whole life.
Either you have stumbled across this because you want to find out how to help me,
or I have given this to you.

How I am Feeling
• I am numb. I am in shock. I am emotionally exhausted.
• I am in pain. A horrible, gut-wrenching, intense, unimaginable, and indescribable pain.
• My mind is totally occupied with processing my loss. I am trying to understand what has
happened. I am attempting to make sense of it all. I am trying to comprehend the incomprehensible.
• I can't sleep. I want to sleep all day. I am physically exhausted.
• I can't eat. I can't stop eating.
• I can't be bothered cooking. I can't be bothered cleaning. I don't want to go shopping.
• Everything is overwhelming. Small tasks are overwhelming. Small details are overwhelming.
I just don't want to know about it right now.
• Nothing sticks in my mind. I walk out the door without my keys. I forget what I was going to do.
I forget everything except that my love has gone.
• I am going through tidal waves of emotion. One minute I might be laughing, the next I may be
in tears.
• Sometimes I want to talk. Sometimes I need to be alone. Sometimes I need silent company.
Sometimes I need all of these things in the space of 5 minutes.
• Some days I just want to curl up in bed and do nothing. Some days I will keep myself totally
occupied in an attempt to escape.
• Sometimes I will be intense. Sometimes I will be irrational. Sometimes I will be snappy, and
often I will be totally lost in myself.
• Often I may not have a clue as to what I want, but it only takes a moment for me to realize
what I don't want.
• I am hypersensitive and will often be offended by things you say to try and make me feel better.
• I want to wail. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to just sit.
• I have no choice how I react. This is coming from deep inside me and intelligence and self
control have no effect. It comes from the basal self.
• Sometimes it so hard for me to respond to phone calls or letters or emails, but I truly appreciate
that you are doing it, so please don't stop just because I don't respond.
• I will not be fully-functional at work for a long time. In fact, I may never work with the same
intensity again as my perspectives of what is important and what isn't has been changed permanently.
• I still want to laugh. I need to laugh. I may suddenly go quiet mid-laugh, when hit by a sudden
reminder, but I desperately need to continue to laugh.

Emotional Things You Can Do
• Let me talk about him. I want to talk about our love. I want to tell you how we met, our last
days, and everything in between. I want to show you his picture, tell you how wonderful he was.
• Let me cry. Your acceptance that I need to cry and your permission to allow me to is one of the
best gifts you can give me. Hand me a tissue, and do your best to sit quietly and let me cry.
• Once you have allowed me to open up or cry, please don't change the subject or try to stop me.
I know you feel uncomfortable that I am in pain. Don't. Changing the subject, trying to stop me
crying just makes me hold everything inside, and eats away at me.
• Tell me all your stories of when my love was sweet, courageous, rotten or funny. I need to hear
everything about him. If you don't know many, find out some from those who are too scared to
approach me now.
• Let me try to tell you what is going on inside me. I won't succeed, but I need to try. You don't have
to do anything. Just allowing me to do it, and allowing me to feel what I need to feel means so much.
• It is really hard for me to tell other people about my loss. I'm working full time to deal with my
emotions. Trying to deal with someone else's reaction or discomfort is the last thing I need, so if
someone needs to know it would be good if you could explain it to them.

What Not To Do
• Don't tell me you understand how I feel, or that you can imagine the pain I am going through,
unless you have lost the love of your life. Trust me, you can't. If I can't, and I am going through it,
trust me, you can't – your mind will just not let you voluntarily imagine this much pain.
• Don't try to compare my loss to the loss of a parent, or a friend, or an acquaintance or pet, it's
not the same. I understand that all of these things are painful, but it is not the same.
• Don't ask how I'm doing unless you really want to know. I am assuming that as you know, and
as you have asked, you truly want to know.
• Don't try to save me from my feelings or make me feel better. I know you can't bear to see me
in so much pain, but I need to go through all of these feelings whether I want to or not.
• Once you have "given me permission" to talk or cry, please don't try and distract me with small
talk. I know it makes you feel better if I appear happy, but my pain is ever-present and it makes
me feel like you don't care.
• Don't ever tell me "you have to be strong". If ever there's a time I should be permitted to be weak,
this is it. What's more, if I only "need to talk" to you once every few weeks, chances are I have
been strong and right now I really need you to understand that I am exhausted and need help.
• Whatever you do don't tell me "If I were you I'd…." Until you are in the same situation, you
have absolutely no idea what you will do. Your logical brain has absolutely no control.
• Never try telling me "life goes on", or "he wouldn't want you to cry", or "God will never give
you more than you can handle" or any other meaningless platitudes.
• Don't try to solve my "problem". Unless you can bring him/her back, it can't be "solved".
• Don't feel the need to fill in silences. I know the silences are hard for you, but if you can accept
them, you are helping me immensely.
• Please don't try and help me find "closure", or tell me I need to find "closure". Closure is an
obscene word for me right now, as is "moving on"/"move on".

Practical Things You Can Do
I understand that a lot of you find it hard to cope with my emotional pain. Hate to see me
hurting so. If you can't help me emotionally, you can help me practically.
• Don't ask me what you can do to help. I have no idea, I am overwhelmed.
• Bring me some meals that I can just put in the microwave.
• Find out what sort of bread, milk, toilet paper, etc I use and bring me them to me. I have
no idea I need them until I run out, so don't bother asking me if I need anything.
• If you are an organized person offer to manage my bills. Collect the bills as they come in
and let me know when they need to be paid, and make sure I do. Time has no meaning for me
right now. It's only when the cut-off notices come that I realize I need to do something.
• Get copies of photos I don't have from family and friends and put them in an album for me.
It will be one of the most precious gifts you could give me.

Practical Things I Need To Do
• I need to surround myself with beauty.
• Sit in the sun and just soak it up.
• Enjoy nature. Look at the majesty of mountains, and enjoy the miracle of a blade of grass.
• Have a massage.
• Write in a journal.
• Cry when I need to. Tears are a release.
• Not make any big decisions for a while. A big enough life change has already taken place.

Remember
• Grief is an emotional injury that requires time to heal. Not a week, not a month, not even a year,
it takes as long as it takes. It is similar to major physical injury. You may not be able to see the
wounds on the inside, but they are there.
• Real-life is nothing like TV.
• I will not "get over it" - I will learn to live with my loss and incorporate the lessons into my life.
• I will get better over time, but I will never forget him. The pain ebbs and flows, but never
goes completely. 



Now, I realize that some of the points in these letters are geared for times in the future, so they may not pertain to me right now.  Things such as, 'you need to start dating.'  Now obviously I don't think anybody is going to try and tell me that right now.  It hasn't even been a month.  But I am sure one day, someone will say something along those lines, and that's why I left it in the letter.  Some of these points may not pertain to me right this minute, but I am sure they will sooner or later.  Thank you if you took the time to read these letters, and now, I hope, you understand a little bit more about what I am feeling and going through.  You probably now also understand why I couldn't choose between the two, so I just posted both.