So it has been 180 days since I lost Bride. I cannot even fit that in my head. Like most significant events in my life, it seems like yesterday and it seems like a hundred years ago. I remember making the decision early that I was not going to make any big decisions for at least the first six months. Well, here we are and I feel like I have made a million decisions and at the same time, I feel like I’ve made none. It’s weird how our brain works like that.
I think there is one decision I have made, it just does not
have a timeline yet. That decision is
that Nebraska will not be my final destination.
I like it here, don’t get me wrong.
There are still more things for me to see that I have never seen
before. And at the same time, it is too
far from any large body of water. In
fact, Nebraska is the only triple landlocked state in the United States. Meaning to reach an ocean or open sea, you must
cross at least three different states or international border to get to water.
The ocean is very important to me. It has too many restorative powers. It brings peace to my soul that a river,
stream or lake simply cannot. I don’t know
where that comes from, but I suspect it comes from my days in the Navy. Sitting on the fantail in the middle of the night,
in the middle of the ocean, is something that has to be experienced to believe. So, not a permanent location, just don’t know
when this part of the adventure will draw to an end.
Maybe that is one of the things that has changed in these 180 days. Somewhere along the way I started
thinking about an adventure again. That feels
strange to even type. I haven’t posted
here for a few weeks. It isn’t because I
haven’t been writing. Quite the opposite. I have probably written more in the last
month or so than I have in years. I just
don’t know how much of it belongs here yet.
I started working on something that may someday become a
book. A couple of dear friends are helping me determine if it is or not. I don’t want to get too far into
that here, mostly because I am still figuring out what the hell it is
myself. What started as writing about
losing Bride has slowly become something else.
I’ve found myself writing less about death and grief and more about the life
that is still showing up every morning and sitting with me while I have my coffee. And
that has led me to some uncomfortable territory.
What do I still want?
Where do I belong? What am I looking
forward to? What parts of me survived
April 21st am I still discovering?
I don’t have particularly good answers to any of those questions, or any
others one really. Six months ago, I was
not even capable of asking them. Maybe that
is what feels different after 180 days have passed.
For a while, surviving was all I could do. Get through today. Then tomorrow. Then the day after that. Figure out how to be ok coming home an empty
house, other than Dogbert. Learning how
to make dinner for one. Learning how to
sleep in our room, even though it was a different bed. Learning how to carry a life that suddenly
had an enormous Bride shaped hole in the middle of it. And somehow, somewhere in there something began
to shift.
I still miss her EVERY DAMN DAY. There are still moments when the reality of
her being gone lands with enough force to make my knees weak. And now there are also moments when I catch
myself wondering what comes next for me, myself and I. I used to feel a bit of guilt about that. Sometimes I still do. I am driven forward by the fact that I am
100% sure that Bride would not want me to get stuck here, figuratively, not physically.
It is so fucking hard.
Because imagining a future can feel dangerously close to moving on. And I have absolutely zero interest in moving
on from Bride. What I am beginning to understand
is that maybe those aren’t the same thing.
Maybe carrying her with me and continuing to build a life aren’t in
conflict with each other. Maybe, just
maybe, they are the next bit of work.
And maybe that curiosity is the biggest change I can see in
myself right now. I have started wanting
things again. Nothing particularly
grand. I want to learn new things that I
don’t know how to do. I want to take something
apart that I’ve never taken apart and see if I can get them back together. I want to travel to places I have never been. I want to spend time with people I care about. I want more mornings that make me wonder what
the day might bring instead of just wondering how I am going to get through
it.
None of that fixes anything.
It certainly does not make me miss Bride any less. Maybe that is another thing I am
learning. Missing her and wanting my
life can apparently occupy the same space.
Grief doesn’t have to leave the room before curiosity is allowed back in. I’m not sure I understood that before. Hell, I’m not 100% sure I completely understand
it now.
There are still moments when I want to text or call her, it’s
why I haven’t turned her cell phone off yet.
When I see something ridiculous my first instinct is to let her know,
and for a fraction of a second my heart forgets what the rest of me already knows.
Those moments hurt like hell. And strangely, I don’t want them to stop completely. I like that she is still instinctually the person my brain reaches
for first.
I don’t have any idea where that life eventually takes
me. Apparently, it’s somewhere closer to
an ocean. Beyond that, the map still seems
pretty damn fuzzy. For the first time in
a while though, I am curious about where it might lead. And 180 days ago, I could not have imagined
myself saying that or even allowing myself to think that.
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