LWC - 3 months

Callum's 50th Birthday Party

I sit here pondering the last 3 months, perhaps I am really pondering the last 4 - 6 months.

3 months ago today my dear Callum passed away.  I am learning to take comfort in knowing he is no longer in pain and has found peace, in whatever universe he landed. 

For me, in amongst brief times of peace I feel pain. One would think that it would lessen as time went one. I believe that will happen one day. But for now, there are days that the pain is even more intense. Every day still reminds me he is not, and never will, be here with me. Pictures and memories. That is what I have left. A wise friend reminded me that we live on in our children and grandchildren. It seems quite fitting that I had the pleasure of looking after Cade today. Spending time with him is living proof that Callum lives on.  He reminds me of how much joy he brought Callum, and continues to bring me. Through the times of joy, I shed a tear or two that Callum is no longer here to enjoy him, and hear him say "Hakuna Matata"!  Cade still remembers him right now, but there is some sadness felt that Cade will not grow up with Grandad Callum by his side. 

I have many pictures and video to add to my memories of Callum. It is a new life. I miss him so much. I have so many things to share with him. 

A few tidbits about grief.  I am sure most of you have heard that everyone is an individual when it comes to grief. This is a long, long process. So..

At times I will feel great - this is normal.

At times I will feel sad - this is normal.

At times I will feel angry - this is normal.

At times I will be tired - this is normal.

At times I will have no concentration - this is normal.

At times I will do things totally out of character - this is normal.

At times I will seem obsessive about remembering Callum - this is normal.

At times it will seem I have really moved on - this is normal. (even though I haven't!)

And all of the above can happen in 10 minutes, an hour, a day or a week - this is normal.

As I said, this is a process, and I have been advised by more than one professional to take it easy. In fact, both my Dr. and counsellor have told me to slow down.  That I am doing a really good job of avoiding the pain and the grief. But this is not a good thing. I need to cry. I need to be angry. I need to spend time remembering our good times, our bad times, the courage we had to stick together. I need to mourn losing him, and need to mourn losing our future together.  I ask that you continue to support me through this. But don't let me get away with distracting myself - or let others distract me - I will pay for it, I am told. It's very hard for me to slow down, and move forward at the same time. I can do it, but it is a challenge for me right now.  I will graciously take all encouragement and support while I learn to slow down a bit. 

As for now, I am enjoying a glass of red wine, remembering Callum, shedding a few tears through the smiles. While far from a perfect 34 years together, we enjoyed a wonderful life and we truly became best friends. It will hurt for a long time.

Tears have a wisdom all their own. They come when a person has relaxed enough to let go and to work through his sorrow. They are the natural bleeding of an emotional wound, carrying the poison out of the system. Here lies the road to recovery.

--- F. Alexander Magoun

TTFN