I don’t
acknowledge how incredible my man is nearly enough. I love him. I miss him. I adore
him.
I remember
somewhere through the haze realizing or being told that the divorce rate for
parents who lose a child positively sky rockets. At the time, some months ago,
I thought ‘That’s insane! How could anyone ever let go of the one person who
understands? The one person who hurts as much as they do? The one person who
knows?’
Since
then I’ve slowly started to get it. No, Will and I are not separating or
divorcing or not speaking or anything like that, No! But I sooooo get it. There
are so many things I get now that I wish I didn’t… the list keeps getting
longer. I ask God often ‘will you not leave any wound with which I cannot
deeply empathize?’
There
are so many layers to this one and more are mined every day.
The
thing is it’s painful to be together, truly together, hearts open and bonded to
each other. It’s painful because the throbbing in my heart multiplies his and
vice versa. It’s nearly impossible to breathe most days and then to see your
beloved in debilitating agony… unbearable doesn’t begin to describe it.
Navigating
that chasm is beyond human ability. We have each long been each other’s
comforter, back rubber, soothing word speaker, sounding board, secret keeper
and lover. Now, the constant undercurrent of pain breeds exhaustion which leads
to impatience and the negativity snowballs. Each hurting too much to be of any
comfort we do a dance of relearning how to communicate. It’s a battle fought
with weary limbs.
I can
see how this could go to a very bad place, fast. I get why marriages don’t
survive this. I get why mothers and fathers don’t survive, let alone have the
strength to hold on to each other amid the riptides and tsunamis.
And I’ve
realized that he doesn’t know, neither do I. As close as we are as much as we
each love Damon I don’t get his loss and he doesn’t get mine. That was a
sickening revelation. I started to notice that many of the places that cause me
great suffering and many of the daily moments that send me hurling down the
black chasm of pain pass him unnoticed. Because his routine and mine were
wholly different. The life I lived with Damon was full of everyday routine,
breakfasts, school drop offs and pickups, grocery stores, parks, and cooking.
Most days Will wasn’t present for these things… his ache, his triggers, his
missing is completely different and no less awful.
This
produces further isolation, ‘you don’t get it!’ Ugh, and there is no denying
that fact.
There
is no recipe. There is no ‘right’ answer. I’m becoming painfully aware that
those simple explanations and formulas in which I took comfort just aren’t
real. Real pain, real life, real grief is not simple.
The
other day on the radio I heard “life is complicated, God is not.” I almost
screamed. I have to disagree. God is very very complicated as is my
relationship with Him.
At
present He and I are in a place of ‘betweeness’ I think my concept of Him is
undergoing a complete overhaul. I’m picking up every splinter of my shattered
faith one at a time, examining it and determining if it should stay or go. If
it should stay it gets tucked back into my heart, though into a disheveled
pile, if it should go it gets cast away. This is a long and painful process wrought
with stops and starts, fury, confusion and gut wrenching realizations.
One of
the things I have recognized with certainty is my need for Him. Some days that just pisses me off. Some days He is
the last ‘person’ in the world I want to need. I’m down right irate. ‘WHO ARE
YOU?’ But I do need Him and much to my confusion even when I don’t want to need
Him if I go to Him He fulfills that need.
Confusing, I know!
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