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It has been more than six months since Joe died. Today my feelings about his death came a little closer, clearer maybe, certainly in my face. The husband half of a husband and wife pair of choir members died yesterday. He had been ill for awhile, and his death was not unexpected. Nevertheless, my own sadness is being roiled up. Saying “I miss Joe” does not describe the feeling I carry around with me constantly. There is an emptiness that cannot be described. I am doing all — well, most — of the things that need to be done, but there is a sense of detachment, a sense of being removed from, a feeling of being not all here or missing some essential part of me. This makes it very hard to interact with others. It’s not so much that I want to talk about Joe or my grief; it’s more that I don’t have anything else in my brain to talk about. It is a real effort to hold a conversation. Somehow, that doesn’t help me be very good at socializing. I know that this will pass and not only will life go on, it will be good, but right now that doesn’t seem possible. I guess my head knows but my gut hasn’t caught up with it yet. I keep telling myself that I am ready to feel better. I guess I’m getting a little deaf as I age because I don’t seem to be hearing it. And I am damned annoyed that I can help others through their grief, but don’t seem to be able to help myself. Thank God for my wonderful therapist! She helps me get through this tumultuous time. And at the same time, I am angry that she is about to go on maternity leave. Here’s where my gut is loud and clear — **how dare she have a baby when I need her!! ** Good thing my head knows that it is okay to have irrational feelings!! The pragmatist part of me pokes through at this point and assures me that everything will work out — it always has; not always the way I wanted or expected it to work out, but somehow things work out. Now, if it would only happen yesterday . . . “God, grant me patience; and I want it right now!”
This week was pretty hectic. When I finished my last client, I called the massage school to try to get a massage, and, miracle of all miracles, they had an opening in 10 minutes. Since I was only 10 minutes away, I jumped on it — and to it. WOW! I needed that. The weekend should go much better after having a treat like that.
Saw 9 patients today - that’s 9 hours of being focused on someone else. I imagine that my work is the main thing that keeps me from wallowing in grief. Today is the six month anniversary of Joe’s death. In some ways the pain is more acute now that it was when he died. Sometimes it’s easier. Because my work takes my total concentration and requires that I put my “stuff” aside, there are large chunks of time when I have the luxury of not even thinking about Joe, his death, how much I miss him. Then when work is done, there is plenty time to grieve, but at least it is not constant and is down a few notches from overwhelming. Good thing I get to see my therapist tomorrow. Without that, there is no way I could keep my stuff out of my patients’ work, nor would I have the strength to do the amount of work I do. Thank you, therapist!
