The story I did not want to Tell (the struggle to leave we and become me)

One of the hardest things after losing a spouse has to be finding your place in the world alone. Ralph became ill about time we were empty nesting. Our empty nest didn't become the experience we expected. He had to give up work and give up driving, and I went to work and became his chauffeur. His health continued to fail, and I became his caregiver/nurse and wound care specialist. Our whole world revolved around his care and his needs. I don't regret a moment of taking care of him, he worked his whole life and took care of me and our children and many other people. I have no regrets but that does not change the fact that your world becomes very small, and you get lost in the duties and demands.

I remember when I worked at the addiction recovery center one of the women who finished our program went to work for us. When she became an employee I said, "We will have to go out sometime to a movie, or to a play or something, whatever you like to do". She got the most confused look on her face and tears in her eyes. She said "Ms Ruth I don't even know what I like to do". Addiction had stolen so much of her identity from her. It was a huge reality that she and many like her had to face. Finding themselves again.

It never entered my mind that a few years later I would be in the same boat for very different reasons. After Ralph passed away my health was not the best. I was very run down. This is typical for caregivers because you don't really have time to focus on yourself. Then I had such ptsd from all the medical trauma and grief and exhaustion. My brain was foggy beyond belief.

The first year I traveled, and stayed busy. I wrote a book and tried to keep myself together financially. The second year I came to myself a little more and had a harder time doing daily things and keeping myself from just shutting the door and hoping the world would go away. I am very thankful I had a good family and a good church. People who loved me back to life. But here I am now three years from my husbands passing and I am still having setbacks and trying to find my way through life.

Then I heard someone say this... the hardest thing is you have trained your whole brain and nervous system to lean toward "us" things. And now there is no us. So you are having to relearn how to function as a single entity. It was like someone sandbagged me. I felt alone. I mean really alone for the first time. Until then I still had this illusion that everything I was doing was still an us thing. I still felt married.

But I wasn't. I was a widow.

Then as I started to pull myself toward this kind of thinking. That it was just me now and that is why some of my struggles were so hard trying to find a place for me. Also, this was the first time in my life I have lived alone and been just me. And I am 65.

I am not sure if this revelation has helped me, yet; but it has cleared up some more of the struggle of grief and how hard some days are.

Trying to revamp a life that for over 40 years was a life of "We" into a life that is "me" is proving to be a challenge.

I find myself feeling a little bit like my friend in recovery. I don't even know for sure what I do like. I don't know for sure what I want to do. I make decisions and I want someone to tell me I made the right one, but there is no one to tell me so I am having to manage my own head space to not second guess everything. I am having to gather myself when I make a decision that may not be the best one and try to get through it.

I woke up one morning last week and my first thought was "I am no good without Ralph". He was so much better at loving and caring and giving then me. He just did it naturally. I realize that is oversimplifying him because I know it is not easy to love and lead and give and give like he did. He sure made it look easier than it feels to me.

I am just praying and trusting God right now as I go through this part of my grief and living life. My letting go and gathering in. If it was not for the Lord I don't know where I would be. I write like the Psalmist... I will look to the Hills from where my help comes from, my help comes from the Lord, maker of Heaven and earth.

I know one thing, when people say it does not get easier. I can say for sure it does not. It changes. The battles change. You hold the grief with more knowing hands. You hear your own heart with different ears. But it is not easier. It is hard every day. Only the good things ease the blows, so I am looking for those and grabbing them when they come. That way I can endure and fight the good fight until my race is run.