September 18th is the two year marker of my husband’s death. Do I say anniversary? It sounds rather celebratory to use that word. Well — I guess it is a bit of a celebration in that I’m doing very well. After 65 years of having Jack in my life, I can say I am doing well at learning how to be a “me,” not a “we.”
There are “I miss you” times. There are “what would you do?” times. Even “can you believe that” and “you would not like this so I’m almost glad you aren’t seeing this” times.
I am not sad or weepy. I don’t think about him every minute. Although, as I write this, I realize a day doesn’t go by that a thought of him doesn’t fly by. Not really in a sad way, just in a “he’s there” way. I don’t relive his dying days, although occasionally something will spark the memory of those heartfelt days.
I have gotten past the “I’m mad” stage. In the first year there was a lot of processing of the more difficult side of our relationship and marriage. A lot of unsaid anger surfaced. In hindsight, I had to release the difficult, sad, angry feelings about different things in our relationship and life before there was room for the good, happy, blessed memories to surface and shine.
As an end of life educator, my main focus has been on dying, not necessarily on grief. During these two years, the grief knowledge has certainly increased. I have gone from intellectual ideas and an outside perspective of grieving to an “I have walked in these shoes” perspective. I now have both parts of understanding. That combined experience (mental and emotional aspects of grieving) has certainly broadened my knowledge base.
On this two year anniversary of Jack’s death date, our family will get together, talk about him, share our love and stories. He was a meaningful presence in our lives and we celebrate him. There will be plenty of food to share and, of course, ice cream.
Something more about… Two Years Without Jack: As “We” Has Become “Me”
If you are grieving, you don’t have to walk this road alone. My booklet, My Friend, I Care: The Grief Experience, is often used as a sympathy card and has brought comfort to countless people in the early days of loss. I hope it can support you, too.
