More of what I need

Almost a year ago I wrote this post, about the things I/my children didn't want to hear. You know, the things people say after a loved one dies. It was pretty raw, and very honest. I ended the post with the things that we DID need to hear.

Here I am, one year later, and I'm still discovering things I need or don't need. I had a big revelation this week ..... and I've been pondering/struggling with whether to write about it or not. I didn't want this need to look "wrong" or to be seen as less than the innocent need that it is. I finally decided to write about it, because I think it's something worth knowing ..... for any woman in your life who's on this same path.

I must preface this revelation with what's behind it: I am lonely ..... and very much alone, most of the time.

Now, don't go getting all defensive and turn this into something about the quality of my friendships or my relationships with anyone. If you are one of my friends, please do not put this onto you. It's not about you. It's not about anything anyone has done or not done. Just listen: It is what it is.

And it's about Jim.

And it's about him not being here.

And that makes me lonely .... and very much alone.

I think the loneliness has been very strong these past couple of weeks because of all of the medical stuff going on.

Yes, I have friends who care about me deeply and who will be there for and with me (and have been).

But .....

.... they are not Jim.

And they can't be what Jim was/is to me and for me.

Jim was, most of the time, the rock in our family. My rock. God was/is the Rock .... Jim was the rock (again .... not always, because the man, contrary to popular belief, was human). But he was here for me .... no matter what. He was strong for me when I needed his strength and he was tender with me when I didn't.

He was here to share my irritation and frustration over losing a tennis match and he was here for me when to share my delight in getting cast in a play.

He was here to share my fears and worries about our children and he was here to share my never-ending love for them.

He was here to laugh with me and to enjoy my joy and happiness.

And he was here to hold me and hurt for me in my sorrows.

Bottom line: He was here.

And now he's not.

The man who spoiled me, supported me, held me, laughed with me, took care of the "house things", had the final say in our big decisions (or at least I let him believe that sometimes!), shared every single hope and dream for our children and our life, calmed me .....

the man who loved me beyond all reason .... is not here for me now.

And so I am the one who takes care of the "house things", makes the big decisions that I don't want to make, has the hopes and dreams and fears and worries for our children. I am the one who the girls ask, "What do I do about ____ not working in my car?", or "Can you give me the directions to get to _____?", or "What do I need to know about applying for _____, writing my resume, looking for an internship, ....... ". And I have no answer.

I am the one who the kids look to as the "head" of our family now, when before I think I was more of the "heart" of it.

I am the one making financial decisions that I really have no desire, or enough knowledge, to make.

I am the one left.

And so, a couple of days ago, when I felt so overwhelmed and angry and frustrated and scared and so very, very alone ...... I had a meltdown. I do not allow myself to have them often .... not often enough.

But that day I could not hold it back. The mask cracked and then gave way completely.

And fortunately for me ...... I happened to do it in the presence of a man whom I love very much and who I know loves me.

And he did exactly what I needed ......

He held me while I cried. And cried. And cried.

It was the first time I have been held in strong arms and cried in 13 months and 3 days.

To be exact.

It was in that moment that I realized how very much I missed that, longed for it ..... needed it.

And while I felt so much love and support and healing in those moments, I also felt so much sorrow and grief and pain that I don't have that available when I need it. And I felt an overwhelming grief for all of the women I know, and don't, who don't have that anymore.

It's one thing to cry with my girlfriends .... with the women who love me and hurt for me.

It's quite another to cry in the arms of a man.

So I guess my purpose in writing this is just to let you know .... to make you aware. I'm not sure what I want or expect you to do with it.

I certainly don't want people to start grabbing me and hugging me tightly to them and encouraging me to cry ..... especially when I'm having a good day, or playing tennis, or grocery shopping or in the middle of a phone call!

But just know ..... for the woman in your life who is grieving the loss of her husband (whether it's a death or a divorce) .... that she is lonely. No matter how she appears or what she says, or does not say. No matter how "in control" she is or what mask she wears.

And maybe ..... if you see me her looking a little overwhelmed or frustrated or teary .... you might want to offer a hug. And then hold on tightly and for more than a moment. Hold on long enough to let her know that your arms are there for her and she can let go ..... if she needs to.

Especially (though not only) if you are my her friend and you happen to be a man.