Three month anniversary

December 11, 2022

This is the 3-month anniversary of the death of my soulmate and beloved husband, Cliff. These past three months have been a steady path of grief waves mixed in with contentment and awe, friendship, love and laughter. Loneliness, fear, anger. The stages of grief we all read about. We know, at least I think most of us know, that these stages are not linear. They are circular and spiraly. It’s not all dark and painful. And yet we know that some of it is. Turning away from the full gamut of feelings is, in my opinion, a mistake. I think we need to turn towards it, let those feelings run through us, name and acknowledge them, and when possible have them be lovingly witnessed.

This is the path of healing. So much of the early part of grief involves what I call “nature’s anesthesia” – a sense of the surreal, of numbness. This is a gift from nature that allows us to navigate without being completely flooded all of the time. There is an awareness of being in liminal space. Of being in altered reality.

As a longtime grief teacher and hospice volunteer, I have read and taught much of this and walked alongside dear ones who are passing and those who are surviving those losses.

What surprises me as I experience the most profound loss of my life? (and I have experienced much loss over the years). One thing is how visceral grief it is. It is not a matter of thoughts for me. It’s like being outside of thought and just experiencing. Physical sensations, senses of part of me being gone while also feeling Cliff around me all the time. His presence is a felt sense not a logos, conceptual idea. Once I realized that, this felt so very comforting to me.

I don’t know how the next months will go. I tell people I can see as if I am driving in a car at night and can see where the headlights shine. Beyond that I don’t know. I kind of know where I’m heading in a general sense. But the specifics and so much really is completely unknown. And that’s ok. It is how it is. Again, there is something intrinsically built in in our human selves that carries us along.

Patience is key. Accepting the liminal and even embracing it. Living with uncertainty. Breathing through uncertainty is such a big part of spiritual teaching. It’s always the case in our human lives and yet, having experienced a significant loss brings this teaching to the forefront. Illusions are stripped away, and there is something actually liberating at times about this.

I’ll write again from time to time. One thing I know for sure is, reading and teaching about grief and walking with others on their grief paths does not really prepare us for our own descent into despair as our loved one is dying and then passes. I am glad I have experience and know about the landmarks of this territory. That is helpful. However, actually walking this pilgrimage is very humbling. Beautiful and painful. The whole gamut.

Love,

Nancy