{"id":886,"date":"2021-04-21T22:35:14","date_gmt":"2021-04-21T22:35:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/?p=886"},"modified":"2021-04-21T22:35:14","modified_gmt":"2021-04-21T22:35:14","slug":"grieving","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/grieving\/","title":{"rendered":"Grieving"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

December 5th<\/sup>, 2020. Two months after Peg\u2019s death.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I awake uncharacteristically late this morning. I have jobs that\nmust be done every day to keep our household in order. Our home is still our<\/em>\nhome, it is now where her soul and my physical self, reside. Although, if\nanyone comes here, they will only see me. \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I no longer want to get up. Could I lie here in our bed and die?\nAnimals and humans die of a broken heart, how long would it take me to die?\nWould one of the many friends or caregivers find me dead? Do they understand\nwhy I am still lying-in bed day after day? \n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It would be called a deep depression, counseling would be called for, meds would be prescribed. No one would automatically know that my condition was a necessary part of grieving. They would try to fix a process that was not broken. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

A broken heart requires time, time for stillness, time for the\nmind to sort out the steps to take to allow me to change and adapt to a new\nlife without her. Time to fully grasp the depth of what happened to us when she\ndied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

December 10th<\/sup>, 2020<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two months and five days have passed since she started on her\njourney, two months and five days without her physical presence, two months and\nfive days with only my knowledge that her soul is somewhere in the Universe,\nthe Universe of souls that I so much believe in. Two months and five days of\nconstant reminders of the love we had together. Two months and five days of\ntrying to convince myself that the energy of her soul will be enough for me,\nthat I do not need her physical presence to continue on with my own earthly\njourney.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As strongly as I believe in my concept of how the Universe works,\nour physical bodies die but our soul lives on, it is not enough to make up for\nthe terrible aching loss of my companion of fifty-two years. My reality is – I\nwill never see her physical presence again. I will never touch her, never kiss\nher, never smell the softness of her hair, never feel the comfort of her warm\nbody as we cuddle in bed. Never hold her hand as we cross the street, never\nshare the same humorous stories at the dinner table, I will never again see her\nsleeping peacefully in her recliner with one of her favorite cats in her lap.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I feel useless, purpose-less, unable to accomplish the smallest\ntask without herculean effort, without becoming breathless, starving for air\nnot coming into my lungs. My chest aches from the exertion of breathing. My\nfrozen heart is not able to keep up with the emotions formed by the image of\nseeing her die before me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grieving is the norm now. I wake in the middle of the night\nfeeling for her body beside me in bed. For a short time, I have forgotten she\nhas passed and will never come back. I think she has just gone to the bathroom;\nI will rearrange the sheets and blanket to make her side of the bed comfortable\nfor when she comes back to bed<\/em>. Then, I realize Peg will never come back to\nbed, I will forever be alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We had slept together for fifty-two years through loving\ninterchanges and sometimes the cold of a brief spat, although the latter I am\nunable to recall details. Or the great unrest, a period of time when we weren\u2019t\nsure our marriage would last. We made a second commitment, till death do us\npart. Marriage is always a work in progress to the very end. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the last two years, I have taken to waking in the night to\ncheck on her, I would listen to the rhythm of her breathing to be sure she was\nokay, then and only then, return to my sleep. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now, I awaken in the night to the reality that I am alone. That\nreality brings on sobbing and tears as I reach out for her and she is not\nthere. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sleepless nights are not helping me, they are dragging out the\nprocess of grieving and upsetting my physical health, which is quickly becoming\na major concern. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Will the aching in my heart cause damage to my heart? I don\u2019t want\nto address this because it may lead to trips to the doctors, hospital, rounds\nof tests, meds, or even surgery. I think I would rather die – yes! – I would be\nable to join her in the great Universe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My research says there is an increased possibility of widowers\ndying in the first years of their loss. If I get hospitalized and I have\nchoices I will say, \u201cjust let me die so I may be with her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am going to bed at 6 p.m. It is winter and the days are very\nshort but that is still early for me. I sleep fitfully, waking up to make trips\nto the bathroom, a normal occurrence for a man of my age, different now, I am\nalways listening for her in the off-hand chance she will reappear alive and\nwell again. If some of the cats are on the bed, I put them out of our room at\n5:30 a.m. and sleep until I no longer can stand the guilt of not feeding\nthem.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

During the day, I nap after getting breakfast. Then if the spirit\nmoves me, I write, I write until the memories overwhelm me, I may only produce\na few paragraphs, at least that is something. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

For a full month after Peg\u2019s death, I would get up and get dressed\nand have the animals fed by 7 a.m. and then drive to my favorite breakfast\nplace. Then the COVID-19 lockdown began after Thanksgiving and I couldn\u2019t go\nout, so I sleep. I no longer care if I am sleeping my life away. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

This is one of the big problems COVID-19 has caused, not seeing\nregular acquaintances, or being able to go out; it traps me in a downward\nspiral of living with my thoughts, dangerous thoughts, magical thoughts that I\nwill in some way have her back. Unrealistic expectations that Peg is not really\ngone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am living on the edge of a great void. Everything that enters my\nmind reminds me of the life we had together. Across this great void I see\nvisions of her and I together, the visions go in and out of focus, a great fog\nin my mind obscures every thought of today, I live in the past.    <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I am eating less now, I am losing weight, not a bad thing I\nrationalize. Breakfast and lunch sometimes hold me through the night,\noccasionally augmented by a piece of pie. I nap in the afternoon unable to be\ninterested in doing anything constructive. If I work on this writing, grief\novercomes me and I can longer see the words on the screen because of the tears\nin my eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No matter who is helping me, they leave by 4 p.m. and I am alone.\nAlone to watch the day fade away like I am allowing my life to do. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I moved the recliner to our bedroom so I can spend most of the day\nwith Peg. Her ashes are in a cloisonn\u00e9 urn sitting on her dresser guarded by a\nbevy of stuffed animals. From my position in the recliner, I have conversations\nwith her. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

It is just a few days until the new year. My asthma has been\nsteadily getting worse. I am using the meds, but by this morning I am very\ncongested. I decide to just lie in bed and not get up. My plans change when my\nbreathing gets worse. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

My breathing is now very labored. I have trouble going up and down\nthe stairs to feed the cats. I know my breathing health worsened because of my\ngrieving. When I am overcome by the memories of Peg\u2019s death, my chest tightens\nup, I wonder if the pain is a prelude to a heart attack. Am I capable of making\ngood decisions about my physical health?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I retained Peg\u2019s caregiver, the woman who was with Peg non-stop\nduring the last three days of her life. Peg\u2019s caregiver is my caregiver now. I\ntext her with my decision to go to the local Urgent Care facility. She texts\nback that she will meet me there. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I arrive at Urgent Care, the receptionist informs me that they\ndo not have the facilities to treat my asthma, I am instructed to go to the ER.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ER is a difficult place for me. It is where the ambulance took\nPeg after her fall and subsequent stroke. It is where I held her hand before\nthe ambulance transferred her to a different hospital, a hospital that could\nhandle neurosurgery. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

I no longer take routes that lead me past our hospital. I go out\nof the way to avoid the memories. We have a good hospital, the men and women at\nboth hospitals were an enormous help keeping Peg comfortable until I came to\nthe conclusion that Peg would go into hospice and I would take her home to die\nwith her beloved animals, our family and myself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Those words were extremely difficult to write. I fell into a\ncoughing fit and now I have to stop and allow my body to recover from the flow\nof hormones and endorphins, which if I am not careful, can cause me great\nphysical harm. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

At this time, a few days before the new year, I am only sure of\none thing. I want Peg back. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Two months a five days since she started on her journey.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[1],"tags":[216,23,215,197],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/886"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=886"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/886\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":890,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/886\/revisions\/890"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=886"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=886"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.angelchroniclestories.com\/chronicle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=886"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}