The same, yet different

I was told from the beginning to not be afraid to grieve, to know that grieving is different for each person and that it will come at different times, night or day.

When talking with some other widows or people that have lost loved ones, I find that this is almost a universal way to think. Is this the way to explain why some people fall apart and can't function and yet others get up and go to work?

I am one of those latter people. I get up, go to work, laugh at times, cry at times, and be with friends and family at times. I am wading thru paperwork and what bills to pay and figuring out what to do with insurance money. I am doing it. But I don't want to. I want to lay down and let someone else take over. There are times when there is something inside of me that just wants to crawl into a deep hole and not come out. But still somewhere inside of me is also saying, get up, function. And it overrides the other.

Learning about myself and my strengths (and weaknesses) has been a tough road. I am walking, maybe even crawling down it. To take those deep breathes and take the next step is not easy. I am always looking back for Jim. I am looking for him to cover my back. To help me decide things. I am learning that I can't do that.

Last night I took some tool hooks (you know the Y shaped things that you hand rakes from) and attached them to our fence. Now, understand how big a step this was. We had the tool hooks since last fall. Nothing was ever done with them because of the time issue. I didn't do anything with them when I could have because they were a 'tool' = Jim thing, not a betsy thing. I decided finally I was tired of the rake and shovel falling on me whenever I went to that corner of the yard and grabbed the package, opened it and started screwing. It was not easy. It took some thought. But like the doorknob lock. I did it. Um, I know I didn't do it right. They are not as secure as they could be, but they are up.

Why didn't I do this more when Jim was at my side? Well, somewhere in our marriage I got lazy and let him do those things. I could blame it on his macho side, but really to be fair, it was just easier for me to let him handle it. My crawling is part of this learning.

Learning not just how to do things around the house, but how to actually live. I didn't want to live and often still don't want to. I don't want to be without Jim. But. That damn But. But I have to. I am feeling zombieish at times and going thru motions and yet even as I am doing that, I am moving. My stupid stubborn strong side is making me function and the voice that says lay down and cry, well it is there, and I am hurting, but I am functioning. Yet, I don't want to be myself in this world.

God and Jim know that I don't want to be by myself. I look in the mirror and wonder who would ever love me the way that he did. No one. No one could love me with the unconditional way he loved me. I cry because of the time I should have been with him and wasn't. I cry when I remembe the times we were together and it was perfect. I am glad that the good outweighs the bad.

Night time is the worst time for me. It is a time when there is not enough other interaction to keep our deep thoughts from coming to the surface. I remember right from the start the joy Jim and I shared. As friends, as co-workers, as lovers and as a couple. I know the steps to be taken are difficult. I know I can take them at my own speed. I know that everyone takes them in different ways.