Grief

I knew my partner’s death was inevitable.

I, like everyone else, had no real knowledge of a timeline for that eventuality. But I was pretty confident we were not going to grow old together. This fact was often part of conversations that he and I had over the years. He knew that his time on this planet as a human was going to be shorter than any of us want.

I can’t say he was ever ok with that. He wanted to live, he had projects to finish and love to give. He wanted to see his kids grow and see his grandchildren. Anyone who knew him, knew how much he got a kick out of babies. It makes me sad to think he won’t get to experience that with us.

On the other hand, who am I to say he is not experiencing it?

I have no way of knowing what lies beyond our carbon-based selves. I like to think he’s out there in some way. It sure would be nice to have a clear sign though. It is damned hard to get a straight answer out of him these days.

Anyway, in the back of my mind, I knew I’d be facing life without him and now it is here. I miss him every day. But I had already been missing him for the last year as his body forsake him and he became less and less able to live the life he wanted to.

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Stress and how it can sneak it’s way into your life

While working to keep our lives together with the major change in Aaron’s health about 5.5 years ago; the challenges of dialysis, doctors appointments, kids, parents and work, I started stress eating. It wasn’t a huge problem but I felt it and every once in a while I would do a mini-purge with a diet. This, of course, was an attempt to take off some of the 30lbs I had managed to hide in the middle of my body. It never really worked, but I know now that I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to lose it either. As soon as I would start a crisis would come up and I would shovel a plateful of lasagna or Fettuccini Alfredo for comfort. I knew this was totally reasonable given the circumstances and I didn’t beat myself up too much about it.

Over the Holidays, as friends and family brought copious amounts of food, reached out, offering support, dinners, lunches, spa days( I LOVE spa days and Le Nordik Spa). I realized that I needed to make changes in my life.

So Now I am Saying Yes

One of the biggest challenges I’ve had has been letting go of control of the outcome. Even in the final months of Aaron’s life, it became apparent that I couldn’t control his trajectory, I couldn’t save him from his own fate. I had to take a step back, it was the hardest step I have ever taken. But, it was also liberating for both of us. Upon reflection, I have realized that I have had a lot of anxiety over the years stemming from the crisis’ I’ve been part of. Things with my loved one’s health were so out of my control and chaotic, I would try to control everything else around me with precision. This served me well during this time, but I feel now it may hold me back from experiences.

So I am letting go. When someone invites me to something, I am taking the leap and jumping into new things. I am hoping it will help me grow as a person and lead me into this next phase of my life. I think that I just have to accept what is coming to me, having faith that it will lead me in the right direction.

Times of Change

A close friend who works out at a gym in town has been trying to convince me to join for months. I haven’t worked out in a gym since my 20s but in January, I went in and signed up for the whole year. I felt I just needed to commit. I’ve now been working out 2-3 times per week and I am already feeling physically stronger.

I was invited by another one of my close gfs to go over for a sauna and dinner, ok – I love saunas, so yes, I was in. Over dinner my friends mentioned that they were doing a Whole30 Challenge. After some brief discussion, it seemed clear that I needed this as well. I decided to have one last day with my milky sweet black tea and cheese, then started on January 8th.

Shall we Dance?

The next offer came in the form of dance lessons. Again, a close gf told me she was signing up for Salsa lessons. I was so excited for her, then she asked if I wanted to join her. OMG Yes!!! I love to dance, always have. So now we go once a week into Ottawa and dance. It’s been challenging, I am trained in Irish Dancing, which is notably… stiffer. But I am getting the hang of it. It’s such a social dance. I can’t wait to be deft enough to actually go out to a club, maybe after a few more lessons though.

New Habits

It’s been a month of these new habits. I know I have lost weight ( I am waiting until day 30 to actually weigh in). At Christmas, I had to leave the pockets open on my snow pants in order to zip them up and there was no chance of closing the clasp. Now I can zip them up and have a little room behind the clasp after it is closed. (you know you live in Canada when this is how you measure your waist). This feels great!

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I know that not everyone who is in grief mode can take these types of changes in their lives. This has been great for my self-esteem and knowing I can actually get ahead of this and have some control of my physical health has been so wonderful. It is helping with clearing my mind and I am sleeping better. Hopefully, in the coming months, it will help me focus better on my business. One day at a time…

The world of grief is a lonely place.

I don’t like to visit it often, but I do know I have to go there at times. It’s a solitary journey and you can’t come with me, nor can I go with you. I’m all for sharing feelings and stories, it’s in my nature to share and speak my mind most of the time, but not the inner most thoughts. In my head I visit the last moments, the regrets, the ‘I wish I had more time’ and I battle with self-doubt, fear, and loathing and you can’t join me.

This is not depression. This is grief and we all have to experience it.

It’s ok to feel this, to sit with it and to experience it. The difference between grief and depression I suppose is that one doesn’t stay there. These are my private moments; the challenge is to find joy as well, which I feel fortunate to experience daily. It’s a process and I am now over a month into it. I feel good most of the time, life and time keep on moving with or without my awareness of it.

What I really want to talk about though, is our cat.

Our cat was found as a tiny kitten on the side of the road, we are in the country and (this is actually a regular occurrence unfortunately we have found many litters of kittens dumped in our area over the years). Anyway, he was just a ball of fluff when we got him and he was terribly skittish. But our kids won him over and he became an indoor/outdoor family pet. He has always been an interesting character.

Kitty Kat (super creative name right?) loved Aaron and the boys, he hated me. He would literally scratch at the door to come in, start into the house and see me across the room, then promptly turn around and go back outside. If I came upstairs, he ran from me, he never wanted to be near me. He didn’t like strangers in the house and would always disappear when they visited unless they were on the toilet… I have no explanation for any of this.  

He loved walks with Aaron

He would however, walk with us in the woods, he loves to go on walks. Since Aaron was home most of the time, they would spend a lot of time together. They always had mornings outside together and would sit on the porch often. When Aaron went into the hospital the cat behaved as he always had. He doesn’t like winter much and was in much of the time, though out of site if I was there. After Aaron died the cat wasn’t around a lot since there were so many strangers in and out of the house which didn’t surprise us. He seemed fine until we moved Aaron’s clothes out of the house and moved the furniture.

As part of my process in all of this, I needed to move the furniture. There were the practical reasons, like his dialysis machine and supply storage were no longer there. But it was really more an emotional response. Aaron spent 24hrs a day in the house in the last few months of his life. If I kept the furniture the same, I would see the void, I would expect him to be sitting in his chair. It was a little less painful to walk into the house with the changes.

Getting rid of the clothes was really a more practical thought process. The boys took many of the t-shirts as keepsakes and I kept a couple as well. We donated everything else, we knew he wasn’t coming back, they were taking up space and someone else could use them. The clothes do not make the man.

What I didn’t anticipate was the impact all of this would have on our cat… he left.

For over a week he would not come home. At first, we thought maybe he had been grabbed by a Fisher. They are well known to take cats and definitely live in the area, I was doubtful about this explanation. His skittishness has served him well in surviving our wooded area for the last 7 years and we saw no signs of any struggles in the snow around the yard. His footprints led to the woodshed, we found him deep under the floor of it. Then we thought maybe he was sick and was going away to die. We saw no sign of him for several days.

One evening when Jasper went for a walk, the cat showed himself. He didn’t quite get close enough for Jasper to reach him, then he walked away. The next day he came a little closer to the house when Jasper was outside again. And the day after that, I saw footprints leading to the first step of the house. The following night he came in with Jasper in the wee hours of the morning, ate for about half an hour straight and stayed in for 24 hours.

Since his return he has turned into a love cat. He climbs on the couch next to me and nuzzles his way onto my lap, insisting I pet him for at least 10 minutes straight before he will fall asleep curled into me. He now loves me so much. It’s remarkable.

Maybe he went on a walkabout in his grief and returned a new man.

Or maybe he’s just a cat…I have so many questions.

I started thinking about the bigger questions in life. How are we connected, who are we in this life and why are we connected to the people we meet? Are we really just energy manifested with infinite possibilities beyond the carbon-based form? Is it possible that the swirling essence of Aaron is manifested now in this cat? Or do we just cease to exist once our light goes out? More importantly, what meaning does our existence have if thats’s the case? Does the 27.5 years of my life with Aaron have any significance beyond our own lives? What’s the point? Or more simply, is it possible the cat had a medical event that changed his personality or did he just adapt to the new dynamics?

I don’t mean to ask if Aaron will be remembered. Those that knew him will of course but I know that after I am gone and our kids are gone, not much of our lives will remain, that is how it works. We are all just a blip in this vast universe. Our self- importance only serves us. I don’t mean this in a glib or sad way, it just is.  I have a deep satisfaction in the life I had with Aaron, I loved being with him and he will continue to travel with me on my journey. Clearly I have no way of answering any of these questions, but I like pondering it all. It does give me pause about my own grief as well, if that cat could turn things into a great new life in the aftermath, so can I.

I’ll just keep stepping through this one day at a time. I’ve been creating a little, writing, and starting back to work a little bit at a time. It’s feeling good.