It was our birthday last week. It’s been the hardest day of each of the 4 years since Michael died. I have no idea why. It’s not the day he died, not Christmas, not our wedding anniversary. Our shared birth day is THE most sucky day of the year. Overwhelming panic and pain; that’s how I’d describe it.
I try to get perspective on my feelings by considering Michael’s dad, how he may feel on the birthday of his eldest son, with both his sons now passed away. It helps to calibrate somewhat but then my heart breaks a little more. How can a parent bear that?
This year has been a little better. I decided to try and meet it halfway, ok maybe a quarter way. To ‘participate’ perhaps, instead of being a victim to the winds and the rage.
A lung-opening hike always helps. To bring the breath back that feels so impossible to pull in yourself.
Spending time in a place we loved again was some comfort, this time having company made it better. Having another human witness my grief was challenging, but illuminating. It was embarrassing but not shameful. Usually the painful moments feel so shameful if anyone is around.
I got a gift on our birthday from a most unexpected source. An acquaintance really. A kind soul with a lot of life experience. In just a few hours she gave me perspective and showed me another way to feel it and survive.
An active remembering. Rituals I guess. My psych(s) have talked about having rituals, but the word itself is so off-putting. Am I joining a cult or something?!
My friend bought the candle as a birthday present (matches in pocket too).
She had selected a poem to read to us.
Baked a cake.
Each item presented naturallly as if they were no bother. As normal as buttering a bread roll. How can she know to do this?
We sang, we cried, we laughed. A huge sea eagle swooped low around our tree, ‘Michael!’ she cried and ran to her feet to follow it circle away and come back again. So uninhibited. When I grow up I want to be just like her, 76 years young.
A birthday to remember, gifted from a place of pain.
She shared my BBQ shapes with enthusiasm. Michael would like that.
September 17, 2019 at 8:46 pm
I’m so grateful to you and your beautiful self-expression. I always get tears in my eyes when I read your beautiful words. You are an excellent writer and express yourself in a lovely way. I can’t imagine your heartache. I fear it… In my own life I worry about losing the man that I love because it’s still new and it took 43 years to find him. I had been alone for so long wondering … and I also have experienced great loss which makes me fear losing again. My gratitude helps balance these fears. (I hope me sharing that doesn’t cross the line.) I find you to be so brave and real, LIVING life in a way that most don’t. I didn’t know you and Michael shared birthdays. This experience on our planet really confuses/bewilders me, uplifts me and breaks my heart.
I would love to have a conversation via Skype someday if you are ever up for that.
Or maybe an email exchange since we both enjoy writing 😊
I am so happy you processed, honored, ‘celebrated’ in a way that allowed you to be you.
Sending light and love from one human to another 💫
LikeLiked by 1 person
September 18, 2019 at 5:34 am
Thanks for your reflections and sharing, Gina. Personally I am thrilled to hear you have found a great love!!! The fear of loss is so real, isn’t it. I used to pinch myself that I was so happy and that it may be too good to be true – so silly! Then I would take a few deep breaths and try to TRUST and remain PRESENT in the reality of a moment / our life and keep going – not wanting to miss a moment. Anything less than that really just isn’t worth it, in my opinion. “Luke warm is no good” is a personal favourite motto. Keep enjoying your love and cherishing it with your gratitude practice. I’m amazed by your balance in that regard. We must try not to let the fears about the future creep in and spoil now. Though it is hard.
(love to connect offline in some way too xx)
LikeLike
September 17, 2019 at 11:21 pm
I love everything about this x
LikeLike