A more rational view

Wednesday 1 Oct 

I'm getting better at this - I have hours of normalcy and I haven't cried today. I went to a yoga class yesterday and it felt like a medicine, no, I can't even find the right words - gentle but focused physical exertion, mental cleanse. I spoke to the instructor, a wonderful Indian lady who told me whatever you do, when get home, get out of these clothes and bathe your body - wash the day off and even if you don't meditate or chant, make sure you lay down and breathe, at least 20 breaths. I will take her advice.

The days are less painful, or rather, the pain is less intense, but they are somehow harder to bear. They are reality in full swing, they are less tears, but more deep sighs. I remember reading a book, a memoir of love and loss ( this was the subtitle and the gist) - the author was narrating and illustrating the year following the tragic death of his wife - again sudden death. He said - at first, I would share my pain with everyone - friends, family, the guy who sold me news paper, then less and less - less emotional availability,less willingness to pry the wound open again. I'm starting to feel that as well, or maybe it's just an illusion. I can't rely on my feelings just yet...and there's the unfinished matter of the funeral ceremony, still a week away. 

I went back to reading on the stages of grieving, the academic explanation, the post-mortem of the post-mortem. One of them is bargaining. It's the third one - they go : denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. The model was devised by a reputed Swiss psychologist and it claims universality and I read it thinking have YOU lost anyone, Elisabeth? I read about her http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elisabeth_K%C3%BCbler-Ross - she suffered two miscarriages and has two children; she's now divorced, a prolific and awarded academic. What bargaining? There is none - there wasn't with my mum and there is none now. I have no leverage! And my mind or heart never even touched the concept. Depression?? The first time around there was none and I'm hoping to escape it this time. A deep feeling of emptiness, yes, nostalgia, sadness, but it works the same way you train your body - you have to make an effort - not to give in, not to go to that dark, horrid place. For me it's friends, yoga, the gym, writing, work and school, replacing I miss you with I love you, talking about it, endlessly, to exhaustion, trying to create some sense. 

I have a saving grace - I GAVE him something so precious...he would've left this world that day either way. He met me exactly two months before he died - he could've met some other girl, who would've probably made him equally happy - he was so eager to give and receive love. But he met ME and I will always feel blessed - I can't help but think ..I was more prepared to give him what he needed and take the pain afterwards. I'm not taking anything away from us - he might not have met anyone and went contempt, but not happy...fuck, I'm happy it was me...

Some random thoughts :

Probably the most important gift he gave me was a lesson: be present in the present! I could feel him falling for me, with the excitement of child, with no fear of rejection, with no caution and offence at my slower pace. I was still bruised and over analytical - this is my nature. He had only certainties - he KNEW I was making him happy and that I was happy, he KNEW we would be doing this for as long as we're here. I could feel it, but I just wouldn't let myself say it. Finally and just in time, the week before he died I said it to him over and over and over again and he... well we were one of those annoying couples who just could not be apart, could not keep our hands off each other, knowing we should  still keep our independent lives to a reasonable extent, but never did.

Then he reminded me of how I deserve to be loved, how it should be and what I have always looked for, had but temporarily forgot. And it doesn't necessarily come in a lightning, love at first sight, romantic novel or Hollywood cute-meet. I had met him and thought nothing of him and the feeling, or lack thereof was mutual. But he showed up on my doorstep and the rest is a brief, beautiful history. 

He gave me his friends - what an amazing, generous gift! I am an expat, well... a wanderer. Ever since my mum died, home is tricky - it's my dad's home and that of my sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law. London is not home - I haven't even put up my pictures. My friends are scattered all over and that comes with both good and bad. The people he left me with showed me so much love, care, they made sure I survived this, made sure I knew we're all in this together and it's overwhelming and I just feel blessed and I thank him. They were his family and now mine.

I looked up the meaning of his name - it's wanderer ... What was he looking for and why go so soon? You would think I'd question why me? Why again? But I'm not - I think about his journey...hoping to find some sense there..it feels I have.

The day I met his parents was the day after his death - I was in his house, crying with his parents, playing with his dog, while he was up there, meeting my mum, playing with my dog - oh yeah, my dog died in April. His dad took me in his arms and he was ever so warm and open and vulnerable and so was I. His mum was trying to make sense, trying to breathe.. I didn't know how she felt about me. She wrote to me last Sunday ( 28 Sept) and called me precious, we opened up to each other, she thanked me and so did I. This was the first time I felt useful. 

The paradox:

The more pain, the more love. My heart is so torn by such continuous ache, I'm amazed it still works and yet, I feel LOVE. I love him, I love my mum, I love my friends.