The Roller Coaster

I think that one of the things that is the most exhausting about grief is the roller coaster of emotions that come each day.  Yesterday was one of those days.  Writing this blog is extremely helpful.  It gets me out of myself by writing down how I am feeling, and then examining it.  I've always enjoyed writing, but this has been different.

What will come as a shock to no one is that I am an extrovert.  I am learning that this is both a blessing and a curse.  It is was carried me through the Wake and the Funeral.  I love being in groups of people, always have, probably always will.  So I found the strength to get through those two days filled with people.  I had never realized before that during both of those processes, while people are comforting me, I am also comforting them.  A death as sudden as Gar's is a huge shock to everyone, and everyone, in one way or another is grieving, so we comfort each other with tears and with hugs and other expressions of love and support.  For days, I felt like I needed to hug everyone I saw.  I feel sorry for those of my daughters who are introverts, because in addition to grieving, those days of being around so many people are even more exhausting and draining for them.  I am grateful for everyone who was there both of those days.  It showed me how loved Gar was and my daughters and I are, by such a crossroads of people.  It gave me a lot of strength.

Yesterday was another day where being an extrovert was helpful.  I went to a lovely baby shower for my friend Kellie that was given by her mother-in-law Barb, another friend of mine.  Gar and I were both so excited for Kellie and Shawn when they announced that they were expecting!  It was so good to be surrounded by all of the excitement, love and joy that was there yesterday.  Then I went to a party at Mike and Elaine's house, with more friends.  I had not seen some of the people since Gar died, so that is always a little difficult and takes a great deal of energy, but again, being an extrovert carried me through that.  It was however, tough when I got home.  This big, empty house seems even bigger and emptier when I come home and Gar is not here.  I was thinking about that last night.  After a day like yesterday, Gar and I would come home, feed the dogs and settle into our chairs for a night of TV.  This was never a time of talking because after about five minutes, Gar would be asleep.  But he was there!  Last night it was just the dogs.  I honestly don't know if I will ever get used to that.  So I pray, and I thank God for thirty years with the man I love, and get ready for another day.

Four Weeks

It is morning, and the dogs have been emptied and fed, the routine that gets me out of bed every morning.  It's funny, I've been getting up much earlier now than I have in years, mostly because I seem to wake up and don't need to worry about waking Gar in the hours that he's finally sleeping.  Four weeks ago today, I got up, went through the normal morning routine, showered, got dressed and kissed my husband good-bye as I left for the business of the day.  A pretty typical summer Saturday, one of the last few before bowling started again.  The plans were to go shopping with the girls, come home, clean, do a little W/ELCA work, then have Annie over for dinner and a movie.  It didn't quite work out that way.

One of the problems I've been having in this process is revisiting that day.  When I came home and found Gar, it was shock and horror, the emotions that followed were even worse; anger, despair, fear, wanting my mother and father, disbelief, anger, fear.  At first, I could not cry, then the tears would not stop.  I remember Kari shaking as she was on the phone with 911, her poor body was shaking so hard that she hurt the next day.  I must have been shaking too, because I had body aches all over the next day too.  I don't remember a lot of details, but sometimes, the raw emotions hit me in the face as I walk out the door and stand in that space where I was locked in the grief.  I do remember at one point thinking about having a drink, to make it all go away.  I'm glad that I had that thought, because God in God's goodness reminded me how proud Gar was of my sobriety, and how it would not honor Gar's memory to begin drinking again.  Even after over 27 years of sobriety, those thoughts still come, but I thank God for my sobriety.  I remember worrying about the girls and how it would be for them.  I also remember the people who were there for me, holding me, helping me, praying for me; Judy Rath, Dick and Myrlette, Brenda, Pastor Brian, Jane Peters, the kids and grandkids, Gar's sisters and brother.  I was surrounded by love and support, yet so alone.  I also remember being angry at God, I remember being unable to pray, yet I remember being surrounded by God's love.  The dichotomy of emotions was overwhelming. 

I know that as I move forward in my life, my memories will begin to fade, yet I do not really want them to.  I know that I will go forward with life, alone, yet not alone.  So I stop, I pray and I give thanks for 30 years with Gar and the blessings, such as my children, that have come from that.

In a twinkling of an eye

The thing that I am having the hardest time with is how suddenly Gar died.  There was no warning, no indicators.  Kari and I were leaving to to the Farmer's Market with Annie.  I kissed him good-bye, told him jokingly that he should shower, told him I loved him and left for a morning with two of my daughters.  We came home, and he was gone.  When I found him, my first coherent thought was that my life would never be the same, and I was right.

I know that Jesus met him and carried in home.  God told me that the next day in a still, small voice in my heart.  This gives me joy.  What I struggle with is what were Gar's last seconds like.  Did he suffer?  Was he in pain?  Did he know?  I will not know those answers until Gar and I meet in heaven.  I will think of them occasionally, but I cannot dwell on them.  Again, it is one of those things, where all I can do is trust in God's wisdom and love God, know that Gar is with God now.  I take comfort in that Gar looked like he was sleeping, no indicators of pain or stress.  I also take comfort that Gar did not have a long, lingering illness. That would have made him very unhappy if he could not work with Isabella, bowl, dart, travel, all the things he loved to do.

Another part of the sudden passing that I struggle with is the fear of losing another loved one suddenly.  If kids get to my house later than I think they should be, I have to force myself to not call them.  If I can't find one of the dogs immediately, I panic.  Last night I actually shook Winky's kennel and woke her up because I hadn't heard any noise from her for a while.  Paid for that mistake for a few minutes.  I also worry that I will suddenly be called home and leave my children and grandchildren to deal with the pain before they have gotten over the grief and fear of losing their dad that way.  I refuse to let these fears define me, so I turn them over to God.

What gets me through all of this is that I know that God had a plan for Gar's life, and God has a plan for my life.  I give thanks to God that our plans intersected for 30 wonderful years.  I am also glad that those plans included all four of our daughters and all five of our grandchildren.  That is my joy nowadays.  Thank you God for the many blessings in my life.

Alone

I started this blog when Gar and I went to Australia in 2007 as a journal of our adventures in Australia and have revisited it periodically since this.  Now my life journey has changed as my husband, best friend, lover, travelling buddy and life partner has passed away.  He is missed, he is loved.  I am keeping his name on this blog because he will always be with me.  I am starting to re-blog (is that a word?) as a journal.  I'd like to say that the blogs will always be upbeat, but I would be lying.  I know that often there will be little rays of light, and they will grow more frequent as time passes.

I get out of bed alone every day because I know that God is carrying me and loving me.  I also know that Gar is in heaven with God looking down at me, when he's not playing with Primo.  I carry on and get things done because that is how I was raised.  God will give me strength for what needs to be done.

Yesterday was one of the toughest days I have had since the day that I found Gar dead at home.  It was a day where I felt so incredibly alone, and the future stretched out bleakly.  It was also one of the few days where, for a brief time, I could not control my crying.  It was also a day where I needed to take charge of some financial issues that only I could handle.  It was also the day where we went through the bulk of Gar's clothing and took care of that.  So, all in all, an overwhelming day.  God got me through it, and when I went to bed last night, I totally turned the loneliness over to God.  I am happy to say that when I got up this morning, I finished the paperwork and took care of the many memorials that we received in Gar's memory.  I know that Gar is looking down and is pleased, awed and amazed, as I am, by the outpouring of love.  I will be able to send very generous donations to Guide Dogs, American Blind Bowling Association and Cross of Hope, all in Gar's name.  If you are reading this (I really don't know how many people are really interested in blogs, and this is more for me) and you have a donation in Gar's name, thank you.  Those words are inadequate to describe what is in my heart, but they will have to do, because I can't find any others.  Another thing that overwhelms me is the the love and support that I have gotten from my family and friends.  I will be talking more about that as I go on, but it all means so much too, and again, it is one of those things that gets me through the day.

So today is another day with a lot of details.  I walk in strength from God and thanksgiving that I was given almost 30 years of marriage with a wonderful man.