(This post is dedicated to my friends. Our friends. His friends. To all of those who knew Jim ...... and who still feel the hole he left. But especially to all of those who were there. Who did what they could. For as long as they could. Even those who are no longer here. I will never forget the love, compassion ...... and grief that you showed. Nor will I ever be able to thank you enough. I can only tell you that I saw. And I know.
You were there.)
...... and the lives of my children that changed when Jim died.
His death affected more than our families and closest friends.
It affected everyone who knew him ...... everyone who knew me ...... and everyone who knew us.
It's difficult, if not impossible, to see that when you're in the midst of the deepest, darkest days of grief.
It's difficult to see that when you're just trying to make it through each minute of each hour of every day.
But at some point, when you finally feel like you can breathe without sobbing, you're able to look around ...... and see how much of an impact the death of your loved one made.
Jim was the first person in our wide circle of friends and co-workers to die. Some of our friends had lost a parent during those last few years ...... that's the stage of life which we were approaching in our mid-40's.
That was a fact that we hated, but to which we were slowly growing accustomed.
People expect to one day lose their parents.
No one expects a friend/co-worker to die suddenly, un-expectedly, shockingly ...... in their 40's.
No one expects their life to suddenly change overnight.
No one expects that last "care-free" weekend ...... to really be the last one like that ...... for a very, very long time.
Our friends will never be the same.
I find it difficult to put into words, but it's like our "innocence" was lost that Monday night/Tuesday morning.
For many of us, it was the first time we really lived the phrase, "when bad things happen to good people" (which is also the title of a very good book).
Our worlds, not just mine ...... not just my children's ...... were turned upside down, torn asunder. Changed forever.
I would guess that my friends held their husbands tighter that night, while feeling guilty that they could.
I would guess that each of them felt some sort of shift in their relationship ...... in their home.
And I would guess that no one had a guide book about dealing with the sudden loss of a friend.
We were all living one breath at a time.
For a while.
Why am I writing this?
I guess, in some small way, I'm acknowledging my friends ...... and the change they each felt in their own life.
And ...... I'm reminding all of us on this path ...... that not only are we not alone here ...... but that we're not alone in having our lives changed with our loss.
No, our friends, co-workers and relatives may not always "get it" ...... but I don't think we always get their grief either.
Or at least I didn't.
And no, there's no comparison of losing my husband with losing a friend.
But someone was still lost.
And it wasn't just me who lost him.
1 comment:
Good morning my darling daughter.
That was so well put. I know David's and my world will never be the same. There's a hole where Jim should be and we miss him terribly. Not a day goes by that I don't think, at some point in the day, "This can't be real. This can't have happened." I can only imagine how much worse it has been for you. We love you very, very much.
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