How I Feel....

"How are you feeling Dorien?"

Not many people really ever ask me that anymore.

I think people are afraid to ask honestly.

They may not know how to deal with the raw sadness
of HIS death and MY heart.

It's like this giant elephant in the room
that people are trying their best to avoid.

If they don't ask me, they don't have to deal with it.

They don't know what to say when I'm honest
(because sadly, I am almost always honest) with them.

It makes people uncomfortable.

I think some people just wish I were "over it already."

And so I find they often ask OTHER people, 
"How's Dorien doing?"

That way the answer is not as raw and they don't
have to look at the pain in my eyes.

A few people ask ME still, but not many.

It hasn't even been 3 months since Kyle died.

(Not even 3 months....how is that possible?
It feels like enormous, unimaginable amounts of
time have passed by me....)

And I often wonder myself,  "How DO you feel Dorien?"

The emotions that come are like the swell of ocean
waves. They come expected and in intervals, and then
unexpectedly a huge wave sneaks in among the
swells and knocks my feet out from under me.

The art of carrying a family on ones shoulders
alone, without a husband, is well, daunting.

Raising children during the best of times is a 
challenge...raising children, ages 11-21, after 
the death of their daddy?

Staggering.

I feel crushed most days at the responsibilities.

I have had to take things in very small increments.

Usually a day at a time is all I can do.

The tick of the clock rounding through 24 hours...
and then starting again.

When a bad day hits me and knocks me down, the only
thing that keeps me going is knowing that almost always,
and so far without exception, a new day comes.

And with a new day, usually I am more grounded and
can begin again.

Some days I feel strong, like I WILL make it 
through this--to whatever end "through" is.

Some days I feel weak, like the smallest of children
could push me, and my fragile heart, to the ground
with one finger, gently tipping me over.

Poke. And down I fall.

And then they would leave me there, possibly forever, 
walking away laughing and pointing at me and my 
inability to rise again.

This grief I expected.
Even prepared for.

The loneliness I did not.
Could not have ever imagined it.

I have spoken of this at great length already.

I could never have imagined the loneliness
that comes with the death of a spouse.

My other half.

My best friend.

My comrade in arms.

Him.

Kyle.

I look at other couples and their easy, comfortable 
ways and I'm sad.  And I'm envious.  And I miss
the simplicity that came from having Him in my
life for 27 years.

How does one replace that?

Or replicate it?

Can you ever?

Was this it? 
My one chance at happiness and friendship and love?

You can't help but wonder how the future will
play out.

I keep hearing story after story after story of
people never getting past the sad and lonely and
still in a major depression years, and even decades
later.

"Faking it" for the good of...

The good of WHAT?  I'm not sure.

I do NOT want to be that.

I do NOT want that to be my "end".

But maybe it's not a choice.
Or maybe it is?

It's still too fresh to know.

I often wonder if I will be the crazy lady that
pushes a cat around in her baby stroller...talking
lovingly to it.

Maybe we shouldn't judge that lady so harshly.

Maybe she lost someone she loved and is sad still.

And lonely.

And the cat helps her fill that hole in her heart.

I have good days, even really good days.

I've heard people say they feel guilty for smiling and 
laughing again after a loved one dies.

I do not.  I don't quite understand that guilt
personally.  I find that I seem to cherish life,
and friendships, and mountain views, and sunrises,
and small joyful moments now more than ever.

I think that Kyle would wish for more good days 
then bad anyway--and so when laughter and lightness
comes, I seize them and let them surround me.

I have bad days, really bad days.

Days when the tears won't stop.

Days when my heart very literally feels as if it
is falling apart inside my chest.  

Squeezing.

Aching. 

Crushed. 

Days when the grief and longing and loneliness
are flattening me from the inside out.

I long for the carefree life that others seem to
have.  For easy moments of time that are not riddled 
with that aching sadness inside my soul.

I long for days not filled with one challenge or
another.  I long for simpler times with no stress.

I fear the thing I long for may not exist.

At least not now, for me.

And so I will continue to take one day at a time.
24 hour increments of time.

I will continue to gaze longingly, and a bit sadly, at
couples who shop, and dine, and just get to be
together.

Don't judge me.

I will continue to work and clean and study and
fold laundry and help my children through each
struggle.

I will continue to try and find, and embrace,
the good days when they come.

I will laugh when the moment strikes.

And I will weep with equal fervor when those
feelings swell inside my heart.

I really miss him.

That's how I feel today.

---------------------------------------



Edited to Add:

The point of this post is NOT to make anyone
feel guilty nor is it pointing fingers at ANYONE.

It is simply stating how *I* Dorien feel.

Just wanted to add that in case anyone worries.
This is just my heart spilled open in ink.
Plain and simple.