Life After Death

Well, October's almost over, Halloween will be here soon. Then Thanksgiving and Christmas. November first will be ten months. TEN MONTHS. How in the hell can it be ten months? I wonder if I'll be asking that questions years from now. Five years? How can it be five years?!? There was a movie I saw once as a kid, I think it was called Hello Again, with Shelly Long. Anyway, she dies very early in the movie (by choking on a chicken ball). Her sister owns an occult shop and is heavy into the "magical arts", shall we say. So, it shows time passing, her family adjusting to her death as the days and weeks pass by. Then in one scene the sister finds this ancient spell book that has a spell for bringing a person back from the dead, on the full moon if it's the one year anniversary of the person's death. So she brings her back, and wacky hi-jinks ensue. But the thing that strikes me lately are those scenes of her son, jerk-off husband and sister adapting to their newfound circumstances. When she comes back, her husband has married the ex-best friend, her son is newly married with a baby on the way and a new career. Their house has been sold and the husband/best friend live in a high-rise NY flat. Everything has changed, all the people she loved are different.

I wonder, if CJ were to miraculously come back this coming New Year's eve, what he'd make of it all. I have a new car. I've moved. I bought two pairs of skis. I got a puppy. But those are just material changes. I wonder, have we changed? I think so. I can't speak for the rest of you, but I feel like a different person. I'm not afraid of death or injury anymore. I'm not afraid of failing or looking stupid. I don't take my career goals, money or my possessions as seriously, and I don't take the people I love for granted. I figured out that life is not about doing. It's about what you're being while you're doing. It doesn't matter what I do anymore, it just matters if I'm happy while I'm doing it. I've lost some friends and gained others. I've gotten new hobbies, interests I never would have had the guts to explore while CJ was here. I've learned that contrary to popular belief I can be alone in this life and still be happy. I've learned that I'm a lot stronger than I ever gave myself credit for.

One of the most prominent questions on the mind of every widower is, When does it get better? This is, of course, assuming that they have an answer to Does it get better?. Grief takes its toll, and grief takes its time. The one thing, more than any other, that you "normal" people need to realize is that life is changed. We are not the same people we were before. We will never be the same, and our lives will never "go back" to normal. We have to make up a new normal. If you are sitting around, waiting until the "old" us comes back again, you're wasting your time. The old us is never coming back, just like our spouses are never coming back. What you're doing, if you're a good friend that is, is waiting for us to decide who we are now.

So, you want to know when it gets better? It gets better when you make the transition. This is the pivotal moment when you stand on the breach between the old and the new, the familiar and the unknown. You've walked all these lonely miles, and you stand on the precipice. Behind you is that dark scary forest you've been calling home for months now. In there, you're alone and you're afraid. But you've spent enough time there that you have a familiarity with the area. You know all the monsters that play in 'dem 'dere woods. The danger, you see, is that we've become comfortable with our grief. We had a role, as a spouse. We were a husband, a wife, a lover, the guy who lifted heavy stuff and fixed things, the nag... whatever. Now we've become "the widow/er". We're still being defined by our spouses, but in a different way. People now identify us by our grief, our isolation, all that pain that "they can't imagine what we're going through."

I believe things get better when you start to redefine yourself. You recognize the loss, and it's weight, but you begin to make stakes to reclaim your life. It's the point when you say, this event will no longer define who I am. Did I mention that I bought new skis? (Summit Nomads, aw yeah =). I LOVE to ski. But I've never done it very much because CJ didn't like the cold too well. So we did other things instead. But this season, I'm going to be a skiing fool! And I'm really excited about the prospect. I have to deal with the pain, though. You see, it hurts to take those steps. These new things in our lives that don't involve our spouse. It hurts because you're actively letting go, you're acknowledging that you want to move on someday. You're acknowledging that you're still here, hanging on, alive. And you're acknowledging that they are not. That's a very painful choice.

But still, slowly you let go of the pain without losing the love. You learn new habits, make new ties, get new hobbies, but retain the memories. So... tell me. Do you believe in life after death? I do. I'm proof.

Blessed be,
Tamsen