8. Forget-Me-Not

4 min read

Written Saturday, February 29, 2020 / Day 201 / Evening

Of all of the running themes in my journey with grief, lately I have been struggling with the amount of time that has passed since my journey began.

For some reason, this sixth month threshold (as of February 12th) has created an extra contention amidst my constant chorus of contentions I must manage.

And as we face in grief, our thoughts can go all over the place.

My reaction at times has been, “So you mean I’m going to just get used to all of this?” - from which I declare, “No!!”. Yet knowing in the back of my cluttered mind that the reality of time passing will surely bring some of that prophecy to pass.

Quite naturally, we do forget the intimate details of day-to-day life. New ones show up and become the focus - so quite naturally, those of the past fall away. If there was not some over-arching event, reason or occurrence that would make them stay - they do not stay.

They go.

And that has saddened me even more than usual.

As I have written previously, I know that my wife and I shared something at a level that forever changed us at a foundational level. I know how she thought. How she reacted. Those things are still with me - because she is still a part of me in that way.

But that day to day life - those daily interactions - I realize now that another mourning period is upon me.

The time that I am now facing - that the reality of that aspect of my past life - while not only gone in the daily sense - will also be leaving in the sense that there is no new conversation, no new interactions to be enjoyed.

Now our recent past was not all sunshine, lollypops and rainbows. Life was hard with what she faced. It was hard being the caregiver and so much more. And while that was not enjoyable at one level - I was honored and grateful that I could take care of her. My personal issues would take a bite of me at times - but my love for her was more powerful than any earthly thing that could come against it.

And that love came from an inexhaustible source. It came from God.

So reminiscing on that recent past is also a bit toxic. Even at this time when the overall toxicity of my life seems to have diminished greatly.

My recollections that do surface - when they do - propel me into a tailspin of what was wonderful, funny and delightful cross connected to the most desperate, foreboding and painful emotions that can be generated.

It is anguish at its best. Entrance into a place where there is no escape - no resolution and just plain despair. It was there. You were in it. You remember it. But now it is fading. It is diminishing - and there is nothing you can do about it.

Nothing at all.

When I pick myself up - like an NTSB investigation team - beginning to piece together the remnants of the plane that crashed - and trying to regain my composure - I launch into a recovery mode of sorts.

It is a good thing that periods of this great contention do have an end. We just run out of energy to despair. We get beaten down. The storm passes.

All that is left is to get up and see how to get back to the limited shell of a life that was operating right before the latest incident.

Nagging there in the background is that constant reminder that time is passing. That the date my grief journey began is getting farther and farther away.

In the recovery mode of not wanting to experience that time of impending doom as I saw it coming - is the relief of not dredging up that period and all that was associated with it. But in ignoring that time - I am also ignoring the life that contained it.

I do not want the one - but want the other. But they are not compatible. They cannot exist with each other.

Like matter and anti-matter they cancel each other out. Leaving….nothing.

It is the life I now have - a life of nothing - as far as a life goes.

I reflect on the physical blessings and they are many - but as far as an operating life is concerned - there just isn’t anything to operate.

This mourning of the remnants of the past is another struggle.

That is why these essays have been a blessing to me. Every few days - for over 6 months - a bit of each day has been captured. It has been recorded.

It has been saved.

It is certainly not enough to construct a life - but it is enough to save some memories that are trying to find the exit door.

There are enough of them to give me something.

Of course I cannot forget her - and when I am strong enough - which I am totally not at the moment - I can view some of the video records I have of her. I have a few and I know they will be a blessing at some point.

They will keep some of her with me.

When they are not so toxic - I know they will be a blessing.

And I will know God will help me to remember her while He still wants me here. She will always be one of my foundations.

A love, a relationship, an extraordinary connection that I will not ever forget.

Because I can’t.

8. Forget-Me-Not

Written Saturday, February 29, 2020 / Day 201 / Evening

Of all of the running themes in my journey with grief, lately I have been struggling with the amount of time that has passed since my journey began.

For some reason, this sixth month threshold (as of February 12th) has created an extra contention amidst my constant chorus of contentions I must manage.

And as we face in grief, our thoughts can go all over the place.

My reaction at times has been, “So you mean I’m going to just get used to all of this?” - from which I declare, “No!!”. Yet knowing in the back of my cluttered mind that the reality of time passing will surely bring some of that prophecy to pass.

Quite naturally, we do forget the intimate details of day-to-day life. New ones show up and become the focus - so quite naturally, those of the past fall away. If there was not some over-arching event, reason or occurrence that would make them stay - they do not stay.

They go.

And that has saddened me even more than usual.

As I have written previously, I know that my wife and I shared something at a level that forever changed us at a foundational level. I know how she thought. How she reacted. Those things are still with me - because she is still a part of me in that way.

But that day to day life - those daily interactions - I realize now that another mourning period is upon me.

The time that I am now facing - that the reality of that aspect of my past life - while not only gone in the daily sense - will also be leaving in the sense that there is no new conversation, no new interactions to be enjoyed.

And that love came from an inexhaustible source. It came from God.

So reminiscing on that recent past is also a bit toxic. Even at this time when the overall toxicity of my life seems to have diminished greatly.

My recollections that do surface - when they do - propel me into a tailspin of what was wonderful, funny and delightful cross connected to the most desperate, foreboding and painful emotions that can be generated.

It is anguish at its best. Entrance into a place where there is no escape - no resolution and just plain despair. It was there. You were in it. You remember it. But now it is fading. It is diminishing - and there is nothing you can do about it.

Nothing at all.

When I pick myself up - like an NTSB investigation team - beginning to piece together the remnants of the plane that crashed - and trying to regain my composure - I launch into a recovery mode of sorts.

It is a good thing that periods of this great contention do have an end. We just run out of energy to despair. We get beaten down. The storm passes.

All that is left is to get up and see how to get back to the limited shell of a life that was operating right before the latest incident.

Nagging there in the background is that constant reminder that time is passing. That the date my grief journey began is getting farther and farther away.

In the recovery mode of not wanting to experience that time of impending doom as I saw it coming - is the relief of not dredging up that period and all that was associated with it. But in ignoring that time - I am also ignoring the life that contained it.

I do not want the one - but want the other. But they are not compatible. They cannot exist with each other.

Like matter and anti-matter they cancel each other out. Leaving….nothing.

It is the life I now have - a life of nothing - as far as a life goes.

I reflect on the physical blessings and they are many - but as far as an operating life is concerned - there just isn’t anything to operate.

This mourning of the remnants of the past is another struggle.

That is why these essays have been a blessing to me. Every few days - for over 6 months - a bit of each day has been captured. It has been recorded.

It has been saved.

It is certainly not enough to construct a life - but it is enough to save some memories that are trying to find the exit door.

There are enough of them to give me something.

Of course I cannot forget her - and when I am strong enough - which I am totally not at the moment - I can view some of the video records I have of her. I have a few and I know they will be a blessing at some point.

They will keep some of her with me.

When they are not so toxic - I know they will be a blessing.

And I will know God will help me to remember her while He still wants me here. She will always be one of my foundations.

A love, a relationship, an extraordinary connection that I will not ever forget.

Because I can’t.

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