GRIEVING LOVE
I see all of life as spritual and I see it all as a journey in which the destination is not the goal but the journey itself is what is important. As I go through the process of grieving the death of my spouse it is processed within me in a psychological and spiritual way. This I share openly with any who wish to explore the process with me.
I have found that my grieving takes different forms. Today I found my self remembering the Edgar Allan Poe poem The Raven. The raven that perches on his chamber door says, “Nevermore”.
I was realizing that never more would I be able to look into my husband’s blue eyes or watch that wonderful smile start to take shape at the corner of his mouth. I would never more feel his arms around me or be able to sit next to him on the sofa or the swing and talk about all the things we used to talk about. Never more would I be able to share a kiss with him or share the intimacies that belonged only to him and to me.
It is the “never more” part that trips us up. When that hits it goes right to the core. I start remembering the things that were so precious to me, so delightful. I remember things that I looked forward to and enjoyed with him. I remember being able to ask for a hug or to be held when I didn’t feel well physically or emotionally or I just needed love or comforting. I remember the talks we had; the walks we had before his illness; the trips we went on and hoped to do yet; the Scrabble games; the shopping trips; watching him fish in our pond; and those quiet moments when we cuddled and felt the love that we had for each other well up inside bringing peace and comfort and contentment to us in a way that only that kind of unity with another can bring. As I remember these, the icy fingers of grief grip my very being and shake me to my core coldly saying, “Nevermore. Never again in this lifetime”. The last time you shared a kiss was the last time. The last time you played Scrabble was the last time. The last time you went for a drive was the last time. The last time you said “I love you” was the last time.
The last time is so final. The dance is done. The party is over. It is complete and yet my heart yearns for this to be a nightmare that will end and I will awaken and find my love beside me. But in the middle of that desire the raven swoops through screaming, “Nevermore” and I face the pain of that and the fact that life is not only fleeting but everything is impermanent and I may as well get used to it.
I begin to try to see my time with my love as a blessed time and something to be thankful for regardless of the short duration. I reach to feel his presence with me even thought we are separated by and abide in different dimensions. I open myself to become aware of the things that tell me he is with me in Spirit. I remember how much he taught me and what his presence in my life has meant to me. I count those blessings and strain to see my cup as running over even though it seems otherwise.
This is the second spouse that has passed before me. It is the second time that I have grieved over love lost. It never gets easy no matter how many times or how long the relationship lasted.
But I have had the love of two wonderful men who brought so many wonderful gifts to me for which I will be forever grateful. I had a chance to give love and gifts of my own to them. How blessed I am.
If I listen closely, I think I hear the raven say “Evermore” and rejoice in the knowledge that love never dies though it takes different forms.
I have found that my grieving takes different forms. Today I found my self remembering the Edgar Allan Poe poem The Raven. The raven that perches on his chamber door says, “Nevermore”.
I was realizing that never more would I be able to look into my husband’s blue eyes or watch that wonderful smile start to take shape at the corner of his mouth. I would never more feel his arms around me or be able to sit next to him on the sofa or the swing and talk about all the things we used to talk about. Never more would I be able to share a kiss with him or share the intimacies that belonged only to him and to me.
It is the “never more” part that trips us up. When that hits it goes right to the core. I start remembering the things that were so precious to me, so delightful. I remember things that I looked forward to and enjoyed with him. I remember being able to ask for a hug or to be held when I didn’t feel well physically or emotionally or I just needed love or comforting. I remember the talks we had; the walks we had before his illness; the trips we went on and hoped to do yet; the Scrabble games; the shopping trips; watching him fish in our pond; and those quiet moments when we cuddled and felt the love that we had for each other well up inside bringing peace and comfort and contentment to us in a way that only that kind of unity with another can bring. As I remember these, the icy fingers of grief grip my very being and shake me to my core coldly saying, “Nevermore. Never again in this lifetime”. The last time you shared a kiss was the last time. The last time you played Scrabble was the last time. The last time you went for a drive was the last time. The last time you said “I love you” was the last time.
The last time is so final. The dance is done. The party is over. It is complete and yet my heart yearns for this to be a nightmare that will end and I will awaken and find my love beside me. But in the middle of that desire the raven swoops through screaming, “Nevermore” and I face the pain of that and the fact that life is not only fleeting but everything is impermanent and I may as well get used to it.
I begin to try to see my time with my love as a blessed time and something to be thankful for regardless of the short duration. I reach to feel his presence with me even thought we are separated by and abide in different dimensions. I open myself to become aware of the things that tell me he is with me in Spirit. I remember how much he taught me and what his presence in my life has meant to me. I count those blessings and strain to see my cup as running over even though it seems otherwise.
This is the second spouse that has passed before me. It is the second time that I have grieved over love lost. It never gets easy no matter how many times or how long the relationship lasted.
But I have had the love of two wonderful men who brought so many wonderful gifts to me for which I will be forever grateful. I had a chance to give love and gifts of my own to them. How blessed I am.
If I listen closely, I think I hear the raven say “Evermore” and rejoice in the knowledge that love never dies though it takes different forms.
posted by Brendisima | 5:07 AM
2 Comments:
So true dear Bren, Nevermore!
And that's why it's so important to choose our words, attitude, direction if need be, to ensure that there are no regrets when all is done.
Writing is good, keep on penning those feelings and one day when the ink is dry you may feel less pain.
God willing! xoxoxoxoxox
Thanks for the comments Irene. So far I have no regrets and I too hope the pain lessens as the feelings are felt and expressed.
Blessings to you.
XOXOXOXXOXO
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