If you should die before me, ask if you could bring a friend
"Life changes fast. Life changes in the instant. You sit down to dinner and life as you know it ends".
I just finished reading "The Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion. I had know idea until I was half way through my reading that Joan and her husband John were actually well known writers. Their lives intertwined with people whose names you would recognize.
They led a very elitist life style, one that would be envied...but what attracted me, was the open honesty of their life. I am beginning to realize that grief is a common set of emotions. To read her thoughts, actions, fears, to be a part of the grief and the efforts to heal, was remarkable. Many of the "specific" instances she wrote of were not unique. I, too, have thought the same thoughts and responded similarly to events. I felt at times that I was reading my own memoir.
Things like...Not wanting to erase a voice mail with his voice, wondering what he was doing one hour before, 2 hours before. ... Marking time that first year by saying "This time last year he was doing this....not being able to drive by his favorite restaurant, or the restaurant we ate at the night of his accident, not being able to have a food , because I was enjoying it the night he died.... Measuring life in terms of "before and after". Hanging on to every word, every phrase, looking for answers...for meaning, understanding...Feeling guilty, angry, sad, and mostly...alone.... Not wanting to see people or make conversation...people that you would normally find comfort in drive you crazy and strangers give you comfort.... And nothing you can do, or think or say, will bring him back.
I remember a mother who had lost a child saying that she would never again be as happy or as sad...I now know what she meant...one loses their innocence... and life becomes somewhat gray. You never again feel pure joy and happiness because you are forever aching, and you never again experience sadness in the same way, because nothing can come close to the depths of sorrow and anguish in losing a child. I don't really expect some one to understand this, it's enough to know that it is.
They led a very elitist life style, one that would be envied...but what attracted me, was the open honesty of their life. I am beginning to realize that grief is a common set of emotions. To read her thoughts, actions, fears, to be a part of the grief and the efforts to heal, was remarkable. Many of the "specific" instances she wrote of were not unique. I, too, have thought the same thoughts and responded similarly to events. I felt at times that I was reading my own memoir.
Things like...Not wanting to erase a voice mail with his voice, wondering what he was doing one hour before, 2 hours before. ... Marking time that first year by saying "This time last year he was doing this....not being able to drive by his favorite restaurant, or the restaurant we ate at the night of his accident, not being able to have a food , because I was enjoying it the night he died.... Measuring life in terms of "before and after". Hanging on to every word, every phrase, looking for answers...for meaning, understanding...Feeling guilty, angry, sad, and mostly...alone.... Not wanting to see people or make conversation...people that you would normally find comfort in drive you crazy and strangers give you comfort.... And nothing you can do, or think or say, will bring him back.
I remember a mother who had lost a child saying that she would never again be as happy or as sad...I now know what she meant...one loses their innocence... and life becomes somewhat gray. You never again feel pure joy and happiness because you are forever aching, and you never again experience sadness in the same way, because nothing can come close to the depths of sorrow and anguish in losing a child. I don't really expect some one to understand this, it's enough to know that it is.
MKC
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