Tag: healing

When is it OK to answer, “What does your wife do?”

How do you answer those awkward questions about death

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There’s a series of simple questions that become complicated to answer.

What does your wife do?

 Does mom live in the same house?

What’s moms contact number? 

Switch it around and replace wife and mom with husband and dad, and the questions still linger in the air.  Thoughts rapidly flutter the mind with how you are supposed to answer. The TRUTH is usually the first thing that comes to mind, but I’ve learned that it’s far easier most times to play along and not create an awkward scene.

In the immediate aftermath of Maureen’s passing, we all put on a good face most days, but we were trying to keep our stuff together.  There was a gaping hole in our lives, and we were still in shock, trying to figure out how to get through our days without breaking out in tears.  We had a vacation planned about two weeks after Maureen’s Celebration of Life.  It was supposed to be five days of relaxation by the beach because Maureen said that was what she wanted to do that summer.  I put it out to the kids, and they all agreed that we should still go. I admired their courage. We packed our fragile and heartbroken bodies into the car and headed south.

Putting the questions to the test

We were learning to deal with a lot that trip, and there were times when thoughts of her loomed over us, with her presence being ominous.  The check-in at the hotel was the first time that I had been asked the question, “Does your wife need a key?”.  Of course, I was still wearing my wedding ring.  I fumbled my way through it and was glad the kids were preoccupied and didn’t have to watch me search for the right answer. It must have created an emotional moment for me because it struck me that it was something we needed to discuss together. It can be a simple question about your mom, but one that brings back emotion and sends the mind racing.

I don’t remember how the initial discussion started because we were all trying to take care of each other. I wanted to keep these conversations ongoing and was open about bringing up difficult and emotional topics as they arose.  Humor is good therapy, and since we’ve developed a bit of dark twist in our perception of the world, death gave us good material for keeping the subject alive and active. Keeping the subject active was important back then.  We could cry, but we could also laugh, and memories are much satisfying when they make you smile.

Dark humor is good therapy.

While not my favorite family vacation, it is memorable because of the time we had to ourselves, doing something fun, and learning how to keep going.  We hadn’t been able to agree on a correct response, but the talk was ongoing with some wild ideas.  We were having a good day with lots of smiles when we decided to get lunch.  Kids were busy deciding what kind of tasty beverage they were going to enjoy when the waitress approached and asked, “Will your wife be joining you?” Before I had time to think, I replied, “No, She’s home resting…In Peace”.  It was a very deliberate pause.  I could hear the kids all giggling as I answered with my straight face, trying hard to hold back my grin. It wasn’t the response for the long term, but for right now, it was good and something to hold in your back pocket for emergencies.

It gave us the chance to make light of serious questions and allowed us to avoid it for a while.  The proper response has not yet been found by any of us though.  It’s usually a pause and awkward silence followed by some lie, or worse yet, the truth.  Spill out the facts a few times, and you realize it was a mistake.

I try to have a healthy relationship with death and am still working on it. The passing of my wife was shocking, but I’ve learned that life can be random and even cruel. That was a startling realization for me.  I’ve had many fairytale moments and many more still to be had, but I also accept that there will be more heartache and pain.  Part of that acceptance is learning how to cope with Maureen’s passing and other family members that are now just part of my happy memories.  I needed to do some soul searching on how death fits into my life because it was all around me.

More on relationships with death. http://onelobotomyplease.com/whats-your-relationship-with-death-like/

It’s hard, though, to bring up death randomly in communication, and you get tired trying to figure out how.  Perhaps it may be that after so many times of creating that conversation ending response, you stop testing people with it.  I want to be honest, though.  I want to be able to tell people that I’m widowed; the kids don’t have a mom, and she passed away. I don’t want to evade the truth.

It’s a real thing and a significant event in my life.  It sometimes feels like a dark secret that I can’t tell anyone.  I offer the truth as my way of being at peace with where I am.  When I speak of admitting that my wife will never again be physically joining us for dinner, I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable; it’s that I don’t want to hide from who I am. Yes, I am widowed, and I am a happy, relatively normal person. Life continues.

You learn how to gauge people and perceive who can handle the facts and who can’t. If I drop the truth on you, it is because I trust that you understand it’s part of my life and that I don’t feel sorry for myself. It does not happen often, though. Some can accept the truth; maybe they confronted death in their life or have exceptional people skills. Whatever the reason for their acceptance, it is relieving to let it out without it impeding communication.

Many times though, you guess wrong.  You make a connection, perceive something that lowers your guard, and the truth slowly spills out of your mouth and cast a dark shadow of silence over the room.  Most times the awkward silence is nervously followed up with a feeble change of subject.  Almost often, though, if the person has a way to escape physically, they will. I’ve sent people scurrying, not understanding why the honesty about my life scares them away.

I still give out Maureen’s cell phone as a contact number.  There are still teachers that think mom is home helping the kids cover their books or helping with homework.  I have business contacts that think I’m happily married.  There is an entire population of people that are going to be very shocked someday when they learn the truth. It’s not because I have intentionally tried to deceive them. It’s because the fairytale version is what they want to hear and death does not fit into that illusion.

“You may find this sad”

When I feel the situation is right, I’ve learned to preface my response with a disclaimer.  I’ll start by saying, “You might find this sad,” or “That’s a difficult question to answer.” Sometimes that little indication that I’m not going to come back out a typical response is enough to soften the blow. It is the best technique I have found for me.  There are other times, though, where I get tired and frustrated and willingly let it out, knowing that it is going to sink like a lead balloon. 

I don’t know yet what the proper answer is or if there is one. I’m sure that there are others with similar situations, where society does not see their life as typical and are having to create a false identity continually.  If you are proud of who you are or have accepted where you are, then you don’t want to have to hide it. I have a good life.  My kids and I are happy.  I don’t flaunt my situation, but I don’t want to pretend it does not exist. If we are honest with you, it is because we trust you and think that you can see the good in our lives and not the tragedy. It’s an honor if we are brave enough to tell you the truth.

Everything Is Going To Be OK

Sometimes you just need a little reassurance when things to start to feel a little overwhelming.  It’s just a simple saying that can have a calming effect.  “Everything is going to be OK”.  It is something I have always been able to say with confidence, because after 53 years, I can look back and see that everything has been OK.

The last few years have been filled with tremendous upheaval and change.  Having your heart ripped out and trying to figure out how to carry on with a somewhat normal life while striving to maintain a career, fill the massive void left in yours and your children’s life, and juggle a mind-boggling amount of changing responsibilities and emotional crises has been harrowing.  There is no playbook for what I/we have encountered.  There is no prescription or right way to go about picking yourself up and moving on.  The uncertainly about how to move forward can be paralyzing.  It has been paralyzing at times.

Everything is going to be OK!

 

I used to think that I was a grounded person.  Perhaps I was, but I have learned that it is easy to be grounded when life is good, and you are living under the false assumption that everything will always continue to be as it is.  The real challenge is being able to remain grounded while your life as you know it suddenly falls apart and you are thrown into chaos.  Being grounded takes on an entirely new meaning when your future plans have vaporized, you’re no longer sure who you are, and no idea how you are ever going to manage raising four children, make a decent living, get to doctor’s appointments, soccer games, school meetings, college planning, boyfriends, girlfriends, etc.  The list goes on and on it is daunting.

It is not humanly possible or healthy to dwell on the many facets of how life has changed.  At times, it has been a struggle to keep myself from getting beaten down from stress and succumbing to the pressure.  I have had to learn how to deal with uncertainty as a fact of life and not to expend my energy and brain power on the many scenarios that I have little or no control over.  The details have never been my strong suit and my “go to” answer when faced with a potential dilemma/problem has become: “I don’t know, it will all work out”.  Of course, some days these words are more easily believed than others.

Viewing life as a constant state of uncertainty and change, has also left me more open minded and aware of the many different possibilities and opportunities in life.  Embracing this change has had many positive effects and many occasions to experiment.  Some of which have lead to behavior and habit change and some that were just bad ideas, but nothing ventured nothing gained.

Recently, I was invited to attend an energy healing clinic.  I had no idea what this was all about, but I envisioned someone connecting with the healthy and unhealthy energy in my body and helping me to understand or eliminate negative energy that was not helpful to me.  With an open mind, I agreed to attend, since I’m interested in anything that will help keep me a peaceful and calm frame of mind.

With no frame of reference for what would take place, I was a little surprised when I was lead to a room with a bed, and four energy healers that would work with me.  I lay down on my back and closed my eyes, while they proceeded to poke and prod my body, constantly pulling on my limbs and rubbing my head.  At first, it was all I could do to keep myself from bursting out in laughter, but I slowly relaxed and let myself be present with the session.

As they continued their work, they spoke of a powerful conflict they felt with my energy.  One half of my body feeling grounded and down to earth, while the other half feeling tense and anxious, the two opposing forces in a struggle.  I agreed with them because I have worked hard over the last year to “let go” of the many pressures that sometimes build up in my head and stay with the “It’ll all work out” mentality.

While working around my body, they asked me where I felt the anxiety and tension.  First touching my head, then my neck and my shoulders.  I was very aware in this moment and knew for sure that my anxiety was not coming from any of those places, but I was not positive where it was coming from.  It was a bizarre setting because not only were they attempting to understand and feel my energy, but I was also receiving energy from them.  Another voice from inside the room asked me where in my body I felt uneasy, and the answer became instantly clear.  It was in my heart.

What happened next was one of the most powerful experiences I have ever had.  The healers in the room where overtaken with my energy, the deep sadness that is entwined with my heart.  They were consumed with the powerful emotions of grief that have become part of my being.  This was the conflict and dilemma that they felt within me.  Half of my body moving forward, embracing change, growing and learning but being driven by the other half and the sadness and grief that I have experienced.

I sensed the sadness and could feel the tears from the healers in the room that came from the powerful emotions within me.  I explained how my heart is the focal point of my pain because of the loss of Maureen and they told me that they knew and that she was here, in the room with us.  A picture appeared in my mind, clear as day, of Maureen sitting on the edge of the bed.  They told me that she had something to say to me.  I was there with her and she spoke.  She told me that everything was going to be OK.  I had tears in my eyes, but also felt a sudden sense of relief and calmness to my body.  I felt at peace.

These were the words I spoke to her so often throughout her battle with cancer.  When things got overwhelming, when we had one of those awful doctor’s visits where we felt like the world was going to end, I would comfort her with my calming words.  When she was facing her last days and she looked at me, concern on her face and tears in her eyes, still worried about her family, I told her with confidence and conviction: “Everything is going to be OK”.  Those were the words she needed to hear, but those are also the words that she never had a chance to tell me.  The calming voice, the smile, the sincere words that soothed my soul.

Everything is going to be OK.  Things always work out!