Friday, April 29, 2005

8:30 p.m.

 

Today was a day I was not looking forward to. It marks the 4 week period since Linda’s death. When waking up this morning at 4 a.m. , I could remember exactly what I was doing at this time on Friday, April 1^st.

 

When I look back, the cancer that killed Linda was like a cruel April fool’s joke. She suffered one month for each year of our marriage and just as her illness entered into the 22^nd month, so we were entering our 22^nd year as husband and wife.

 

The grief is different each day. No two days are alike, which can be stated as such a generality, but the word normal is listed under the letter “N” in the dictionary as I relate to it. What is normal? A normal routine, when living without the one you love, takes on a whole new meaning.

 

This has been one very bad week. It has been boring to be quite honest. There have been moments when I have sat down and asked myself just why should I go to work today? Why should I get out of bed? What could possibly be worth living for, when it comes to the daily grind? This is the day in the life of someone who has to redefine what a normal day is.

 

The longer this journey continues, the more I realize how few people really understand grief in its truest form. I have stated before that death and grief are the best of friends. They love depression and sadness. So many times they also throw in a bit of anger, just for old times sake. If anger doesn’t do the trick, at least insert the knife stuck in a grieving heart just a little deeper.

 

Every emotion possible seems to compete with another, when it comes to having its say. The person grieving really starts to get sick and tired of being sick and tired. Nothing brings a person down to earth as the death of a loved one will.

 

I met someone today who lost her husband just 6 weeks ago. I would never have considered meeting her as I did today. So many of us pass each other on a daily basis and have no idea who could be experiencing something similar. I appreciated our conversation. Even though we never met before, it is more than obvious that grief is simply grief. It cuts to the bone and it hurts. I empathized deeply with my new acquaintance and it made me realize more than ever how much I want to devote my life to helping others who are coping with the loss of a loved one. I realize, however, I must first get through my own grief if I am going to be able to help others. Perhaps by meeting a new friend, it made getting up worthwhile.

 

I hate this experience, to be totally honest. I once again hate writing about it as well. I feel Linda’s life was sacrificed in order to address such a disgusting subject. Sometimes I pound the keys hard, as I express my thoughts. So far the keyboard has held up well, and thankfully another day has been survived.

 

God of course knows not only how many tears I have shed today, but has looked down on so many millions of people who are grieving as well. What a world. It is one in which we are doing our best just to survive, and I would lose my mind if I didn’t look to God for the strength to get through another day. Poetry and writing are the two things that help me to maintain my sanity and yet to write about this again today has become a hate-love affair. I can’t stop and whoever said can’t never did anything is wrong, when it comes to this subject.