This too shall pass. Still in the midst of this family storm, and probably will be for quite a while, but I can see a rainbow today. Some beauty and magic in the depths of despair. (all figuratively speaking... these rainbow photos were snapped a coupla weeks ago. There was actually a double rainbow that day. Magic indeed!)
I'm feeling better. Still really, really hurt, but the intensity of yesterday (a brief period of yesterday, that is) has passed. As it always does. Sometimes while you're in the thick of it; it's hard to imagine it passing. The enormity of the feelings seem so permanent. The situation becomes so overwhelming that you feel consumed. Wrapped up in the belly of a beast, and you can't see any way out. Just darkness.
I miss him. I don't care how stupid, or naive, or ignorant, or weak that sounds. I miss him. That's why I'm in so much pain. If I didn't care about him, about our marriage, about our family ... it wouldn't be so hard to come to grips with the fact that it's all over. That he walked out and wants nothing to do with us. Our lives have been hell for 90% of the past 8 years - and that really isn't an exaggeration. But he's my husband. My marriage meant something to me. And my family was worth sticking it out and saving. So I stayed through all of the heartbreak and sadness. Through all of the lies and betrayal. Through all of the abandonment and instability. I stayed and I fought. But I was in the fight alone; so it was futile from the start. Hindsight. If only hindsight were foresight; I may have been able to protect us all from such crushing pain. But it doesn't work that way. And my heart is not letting go yet. And even if it did work that way; hindsight may have given my brain much needed information for protection... but my heart wouldn't have listened. And I would have followed it. As I always do. She leads me into a fiery hell time and time again, but I still follow her. I miss him. I wish it were different. I wish like mad that things could be different. I wish he were here raking leaves; while our children jump like wild monkeys scattering them again. I wish he were here to rub my arms the way he used to to warm me up; and then hold my hand as we watch our kids throw around his pile of leaves. I wish he were here to hunker down in our fort of blankets and watch a family movie with us. But things aren't different, and he chooses not to be here. Eventually I'll accept that, but I'm not there yet.
Without the foresight, and without any closure ... it's hard and painful and scary and paralysing to let go. But, atleast for today, I can see light shining down into this beast's belly. That makes all the difference. And the fact that my genius son got the lawnmower to work, and mowed the entire yard yesterday while I was inside cursing and crying ... yep, that helps, too! ;-)
It's only out of a storm that the beauty of a rainbow shines ...
Oh, how our kiddos rescue us, no? Time and time again, Dylan saves me too...
ReplyDeleteGrief is like that...it comes in waves. You are grieving the loss of your husband. Let yourself grieve, Meli. It's all part of a process, right?
I don't know what it's like to lose a spouse, but I have lost someone I thought I couldn't live without, and you just get thru one day at a time...the more time goes by, the God's honest truth (though it infuriated me when ppl told me back then) is that it does become easier to live life again. Less hurt, less anger, less pain...and your children will absolutely be what heals you, Mel. I believe that. I've lived that...
Sending you love!