My New Life....Transitions....Transitions

Life is full of transitions.  Days go on, and we adjust and adapt. I have to admit, though, that some feelings I had today were as prevalent as the day Callum passed away.  The last few weeks have been busy with paperwork, travelling, family, friends and settling into my new life.  I spent the past few days in Calgary with Jamie and we had a great time. It was really nice to spend time with him. I look forward to the next visit!

Please realize that what I am feeling is normal. My feelings are normal. I have had support from many people. 

But as I drove home, the reality of going home to the apartment, alone, really hit me. Things have been so busy that whenever I was home alone, I was getting ready for the next trip or looking forward to visits from friends and family.

This time is different.  There are no travel plans for a couple of weeks. There are no visitors coming. I am here. I am alone. This is the next transition for me. 

It's predictable. There are so many things to do when you are looking after someone who is ill. There are so many things to look after for memorial services. And so many things to look after for insurance and final bills.  And then it slowly changes.  Life slows down and hits you in the face again.

I have really missed Callum this week - if I could ever miss him more one time than another.  He's not here to help me through deciding whether to build a home or buy a home. I want to tell him that the check engine light on the Porsche was only a sensor - once reset all is fine. I want to see him smile when Cade gives him a "high 5".  The feeling that I am living a dream is back. I feel he will be waiting for me when I get home. I know it isn't true.

I think of the things people say to help me feel better. Please understand I say these things generally - there are no specific things  said by anyone that has caused me to feel this way. Don't take any of this personally - it is part of the grief process for me.  Thank you for support - I will still need your ears and shoulders-and you!

But there is nothing anyone can say to make it better. Nothing. Callum is gone. I miss him. It is just not fair. One of the books I am using to help me get through the grief process talks about how we have been taught to minimize our pain. When we fall and skin out knee, we get a hug, a cookie and told it is all better. We are taught to be grateful for the good things in our life.  Losing my husband hurts. I am grateful he outlived all expectations, but it still hurts.  I am grateful for the positive attitude he had. How he lived life to the fullest. But I still hurt. Those things don't take the pain away. I am so thankful we were able to travel and visit family and friends. Those were happy times. But I have many sad, and mad, moments. I so glad he no longer has pain. But I am mad he ever had pain to start with!! Knowing he is no longer in pain doesn't make it easier!! These feelings are normal. I should be sad, and at times mad. I need to work through the grief. Transitions - life is full of them!

I am now an "I" or "me"...not "us" or "we".  I still say "us" and "we" - it's so hard to get out of that habit!  I am quite an independent person - I know I will be fine on my own. It will take adjusting, but I can do it.  But I miss him. I miss talking things over with him, making a joke and seeing him smile. I miss talking with him about what we will do today, what trip we will take next, who do we want to see in concert. I miss him. 

Another transition I need to work through is how to accept help from family and friends. How to talk with them about Callum and how much we all miss him.  I don't need to be coddled. I don't need to have people with me all the time any more than I should be alone all the time. Balance - I need to find the balance between being busy and time for relaxation, reflection and rest. One of my coping mechanisms is to keep busy - I have to be careful to not overdo it. I have to be quite deliberate at taking time for myself.

I look forward to some quiet time to think about the happy memories, to cry, to make plans for my new life. But life will never be the same as it was with Callum. 

I miss him so much.

There's honour in a well-lived life...

there's healing in remembering...

there's hope in knowing love goes on forever.

TTFN

Lorna

Eve of 1 month Anniversary/Mourner's Bill of Rights (Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D)

As I have travelled around the last few days I have talked with many different people, with many different things said to me about Callum's passing.  Sometimes it is hard to know WHAT I should be feeling at this point. Sometimes I think I should be more sad, sometimes I think I shouldn't think about Callum so much, sometimes I think I am moving ahead way to fast. It has been just a month. 

The good news is that I will grieve in whatever way I decide to. I will feel what I feel, and do what I do. Some of it will make sense to other people, and some of it won't. But it will make sense to me - and that is all that really matters.

It is so hard to believe that it was a month ago that I spent the last night with Callum.  Throughout the night I held his hand as often as I could. It was more difficult as for some reason he wanted it across his stomach. 

That night I wrote in my blog that we were close to losing him, and that it may be the last night we spent together. Even though I seemed to know what was happening, it still seems surreal at times.  Those memories still occupy a great deal of my mind. I see him squeezing Cade's hand and smiling. I remember when he held Vanessa's and my hands and said it was going to be all right. I remember how Jamie lovingly held his hand for hours. I remember listening to his breathing slow down, and when the nurse listened to his heart and said "he's gone".  He was finally at peace and pain free.  And we are left heartbroken, with the task of carrying on our lives without him.  I am still not sure I know how to do that. 

I was reminded many times today that it is only a month, and that I have been quite busy, so it will take time to move from the memories of sharing the last days and moments of Callum's life to having the good and fun memories come more freely. It is a process. At times, a very painful process. I have added to the end of this post an article called "The Mourner's Bill of Rights".  It is quite helpful for anyone who is mourning - whether for Callum or anyone else.  Please check it out below.

Thursday, Aug. 11 is the one month anniversary. So, to try to continue to honour and respect Callum, and to gather happy memories,  in honour of Callum, please take a drink of your favourite beverage. His would of course, be scotch, but anything from wine, to juice to milk will do! Think of ways he touched your life, and make your own toast to Callum and his life.  If you have a chance to be with other people, share your stories and have a laugh or two!

I have made this into a bit of a treasure hunt for me. I am hoping to have people from all over the world do this.

Please send me an email to let me know your beverage of choice and share your story or toast with me, if you like. I will let you know Fri or Sat what “the stats” were.

I am sure tomorrow will have its share of tears. But I am hoping that each of us can share a thought or story, and have a smile, maybe even a laugh. 

Please check out the article below!!

The Mourner's Bill of Rights

by Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D.

Though you should reach out to others as you do the work of mourning, you should not feel obligated to accept the unhelpful responses you may receive from some people. You are the one who is grieving, and as such, you have certain "rights" no one should try to take away from you.

The following list is intended both to empower you to heal and to decide how others can and cannot help. This is not to discourage you from reaching out to others for help, but rather to assist you in distinguishing useful responses from hurtful ones.

1. You have the right to experience your own unique grief.

No one else will grieve in exactly the same way you do. So, when you turn to others for help, don't allow them to tell what you should or should not be feeling.

2. You have the right to talk about your grief.

Talking about your grief will help you heal. Seek out others who will allow you to talk as much as you want, as often as you want, about your grief. If at times you don't feel like talking, you also have the right to be silent.

3. You have the right to feel a multitude of emotions.

Confusion, disorientation, fear, guilt and relief are just a few of the emotions you might feel as part of your grief journey. Others may try to tell you that feeling angry, for example, is wrong. Don't take these judgmental responses to heart. Instead, find listeners who will accept your feelings without condition.

4. You have the right to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits.

Your feelings of loss and sadness will probably leave you feeling fatigued. Respect what your body and mind are telling you. Get daily rest. Eat balanced meals. And don't allow others to push you into doing things you don't feel ready to do.

5. You have the right to experience "griefbursts."

Sometimes, out of nowhere, a powerful surge of grief may overcome you. This can be frightening, but is normal and natural. Find someone who understands and will let you talk it out.

6. You have the right to make use of ritual.

The funeral ritual does more than acknowledge the death of someone loved. It helps provide you with the support of caring people. More importantly, the funeral is a way for you to mourn. If others tell you the funeral or other healing rituals such as these are silly or unnecessary, don't listen.

7. You have the right to embrace your spirituality.

If faith is a part of your life, express it in ways that seem appropriate to you. Allow yourself to be around people who understand and support your religious beliefs. If you feel angry at God, find someone to talk with who won't be critical of your feelings of hurt and abandonment.

8. You have the right to search for meaning.

You may find yourself asking, "Why did he or she die? Why this way? Why now?" Some of your questions may have answers, but some may not. And watch out for the clichéd responses some people may give you. Comments like, "It was God's will" or "Think of what you have to be thankful for" are not helpful and you do not have to accept them.

9. You have the right to treasure your memories.

Memories are one of the best legacies that exist after the death of someone loved. You will always remember. Instead of ignoring your memories, find others with whom you can share them.

10. You have the right to move toward your grief and heal.

Reconciling your grief will not happen quickly. Remember, grief is a process, not an event. Be patient and tolerant with yourself and avoid people who are impatient and intolerant with you. Neither you nor those around you must forget that the death of someone loved changes your life forever.

Copyright 2007, Center for Loss and Life Transition

LWC Day 13 - Better Days

I hope I don't make you guys dizzy with my ever changing emotions! I have a feeling this will be a wild ride!!

Today was a better day.  Last night I re-read some of my posts from the last week or so.  I saw a theme of me longing, nearly begging, for Callum to once again tell me things would be OK.  Then I remembered a couple of things that happened when he was in the hospital.

I think it was either sometime on Saturday or maybe Sunday - hard for me to exactly remember when it happened.  I was alone with him in his room, holding his hand.  He asked me if he missed doing anything.  I don't remember if he said much more than that, but I do believe he was asking if there was anything else he needed to do before he died.  Lovingly, I let him know that everything was looked after and we would be fine.

The other thing happened late Saturday night.  It was about 11 pm. Vanessa had stayed late that evening and was just getting ready to leave.  We were standing on either side of Callum's bed, saying good night. Each of us held his nearest hand in our hand, and the tears started rolling down our faces and the quiet sobs started.  Callum squeezed our hands and said "It will be all right.  It will be all right.".

I reflected on these two events over the past day. I finally realized that Callum had already told us things would be OK.  And just as he had to trust me when I said everything was looked after for us, I need to trust him, and those near to his last words, that I/we will be OK.

After this reflection I felt a burden was lifted. I realized that I wasn't disrespecting Callum and his memory by having happy moments and looking towards the future.  In fact, it was more disrespectful to NOT find some joy and happiness, and make future plans.  His wishes always were that I wouldn't be sad he was gone (well, I can't make that wish come true) and that I continue with my life, take the time to do something I love, start a business, go back to school - whatever I wanted to do.  He wanted to be sure I was looked after and wouldn't have to work at a job I didn't like, and that I could enjoy some travel. He wanted me to return to golf. And of course, he wanted to be sure family remained all important. That we treasure the moments we have together and always love one another. Those wishes I can make come true.

It is in that spirit and awakening that I started this day with a coffee, a ciabatta bun with Bygarski Honey (the best honey ever!), surfing the net, answering emails, then spending time with Vanessa and Stuart while Cade played in his pool, enjoying supper with them, and booking my winter vacation to Ixtapa.  Later, as I watched the computer screensaver of random family pictures, I had a tear or two, but was then able to smile and start to remember the joy we shared.  It felt good to smile.

Does this mean I have no pain?  Not at all. Does this mean I don't miss Callum?  Not at all - I still think of him nearly every minute.  I would give  up my "new life" to have him back - in a heartbeat.  I would give up a lot more than that if it would mean he would come back to us.  But it won't happen.  Nothing can bring him back.  I now can only gain strength through his spirit and his memory.  I trust him, and that when he said it will be all right, it really will be OK.

It is still sinking in that I won't see or hear him again. Thank goodness for pictures and memories - they will help him live on forever in our hearts and minds.

I know there will be a lot of pain to come in the future. Holidays, special days, when Cade looks for his Grandad.  But it is so important for all of us to live, and enjoy a joyful and satisfying life.

That is what he wanted for all of us.

Some days there won't be a song in your heart.  Sing anyway.  ~Emory Austin


TTFN
Lorna

LWC Day 9 - R and R at the lake

I am sitting at the Siesta Cafe in Wasagaming - otherwise known as Clear Lake, Manitoba. We used to come here every summer for the Tamarack Golf Tournament. It seemed like the perfect place to get some rest and relaxation after the memorial services for Callum.  We had some thunderstorms and rain early this morning, but it has turned into a great day.

It has been a bit of a tough day.  One thing about not being busy is that you have time to think.  When you have time to think you start to see reality.  While I know and feel that it is real that Callum has passed away, it hurts so much to realize I will never, ever see or hear him again. I am so thankful for pictures and videos - it helps to keep the memories alive.

I had  some really tough moments last night. I was begging to have him back. I would have done anything to turn back the clock and have him here.  Where is Marty McFly and the time machine??!!

It just hurts so much. Grieving is so necessary but so, so hard.  I want to be tough, but I don't know if I can do it.  This new reality sucks right now.  I know it will get better, I know I will enjoy life again - in fact, I have many enjoyable moments now.  But the hurt never leaves.

I am enjoying sitting at the cafe using the wifi. Being outside is wonderful!  I am looking forward to bakery cinnamon buns for breakfast tomorrow. And maybe the driving range.......I am looking forward to trying to golf again......

The future is bright, but it will be lonely and tough for a while.....

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.  ~From a headstone in Ireland

TTFN
Lorna