Grief: All Things Considered . . .

Another Saturday gone, thirty-three of them since my life mate died. Saturday — his death day — always makes me sad. Even if I’m not consciously aware of the day, my body still reacts, as if it’s been marking the passing weeks. For some reason grief hit me hard this past Saturday. Perhaps it was the lovely weather we’ve been having, weather he will never enjoy. Perhaps it was the homesickness for him that has been growing in me again. Perhaps it was just time for another bout of tears to relieve the growing tension of dealing with his absence. Grief doesn’t need a reason, though. Grief has an agenda of its own and comes when it wishes.

I’ve been mostly doing okay, moving on with my life — walking in the desert, writing, blogging and doing various internet activities, making friends both online and offline — but nothing, not even my hard-won acceptance changes the fact that he is dead. At times I still have trouble understanding his sheer goneness. My mind doesn’t seem to be able to make that leap, though I am getting used to his not being around. I don’t like it, but I am getting used to it. Maybe that’s the best I will ever be able to do.

Someone asked me the other day how I was doing. “I’m doing okay all things considered,” I responded. His witty and wise response: “Then don’t consider all things.”

I’ve been taking his advice, and trying not to consider all things — trying to consider just enough to get through the day, especially on Saturday.

I don’t expect much of myself on Saturdays. Often, I spend the afternoon and evening watching movies my life mate taped for us. It makes me feel as if we are together, if only for a few brief delusional minutes. I try not to consider that he’ll never watch his tapes again. I try not to consider the long lonely years stretching before me. I try not to consider that I’ll never see his smile again, or hear his laugh. I concentrate on the movies, and so Saturday passes.

By Sunday, I usually regain a modicum of equanimity, but Saturday always comes around again.

6 Responses to “Grief: All Things Considered . . .”

  1. Joy Collins Says:

    For me it’s Sunday nights – the night my John passed away.
    I feel the same way about the reality. It’s an unreal reality. I know it but I can’t assimilate it. Some days, I am afraid I will go mad if I do.

  2. Carol Ann Hoel Says:

    Saturdays are different than other days. Now for you the Saturday feel has turned dismal. This post brought tears of remembrance. Watching a moving that your husband taped for you made you feel connected in some faint but distant way. It’s a long and slow process, grieving. You are doing all that you can to get through and you’ll survive. New associations will eventually plug themselves into your mind, little by little. Blessings to you, Pat…

  3. Carol J. Garvin Says:

    Saturdays were always ‘family day’ in our household. A big breakfast together when all other days we had scrambled to eat and run. Some activity or outing together. A family movie at night with a huge bowl of popcorn. That’s when the children were all at home. Now they’re married and living long distances away and Saturdays aren’t much different from other days. I miss the family togetherness… the noisy camaraderie.

    I’m blessed to still have my hubby with me, but I always feel a little nostalgic when I think of how our Saturdays used to be. I can’t imagine how I would feel if I were totally alone. I think I would have to find some activity to make me focus beyond my loss — maybe volunteer somewhere. Might be easier said than done, though. I think you’re doing amazingly well.

  4. leesis Says:

    just a big long warm aussie hug Pat xx

  5. Holly Bonville Says:

    It is Friday for me. But another day I have trouble with is Sunday. It is a traditionally family day, and the day we would set aside our work and spend together. Many a Sunday goes by where I see or speak to no one. I spend those days watching movies or reading, just waiting for the day to be over.

  6. sandielzinga Says:

    Pat, I can so relate to this! I went through the same stuff you’re going through…certain days, the body remembering, etc. It’s tough. Thank you for sharing.
    Sandi
    GriefWalk: Hope Through The Dark Places
    http://sandielzinga.wordpress.com


Please leave a comment. I'd love to hear what you have to say.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.