Monday 22 October 2012

One Year On and....

One year on and I've come so far.
Every time  I imagined writing this entry, I saw it like an Oscar speech.  I felt I had so many people to thank for getting me to where I am now.  And I do.  But I have me to thank as well.  Let me start, though, by saying that one year on.....and I still hurt.  I still miss him so much it makes me shake on the inside, it robs me of my appetite, overwhelms me beyond words, and steals my sleep away.  But when I think back to this day one year ago, I have to admit, I've come so far.

Let me begin at the beginning.  The moment I uttered the words 'it's Leukemia' my mum was on a plane on her way to stand by my side through the hardest time of our lives.  And P was so glad to know that I had her support.  Whilst in hospital, his friends rallied around me, and helped me in the most practical ways.  Helping us find a recovery home, that we never got to move into, organising the contract and cancelling it when it all went to pieces.  Helping me move our things from place to place, storing our belongings with care, finding my mum and I a short term rental in town, and helping me attend to business.  One couple even opened their home to me in those early months, a place where I felt safe and cared for, where I had room to grieve, but was not left alone for too long at a time.  RunnerK and RunnerP met with me regularly for fresh air and exercise, and reminded me that it was possible to still feel alive from time to time.  NFL lass made dvds filled with funny tv shows, and sad songs for times when I needed to escape, and others when I needed to cry.  My companions in grief from a long way down the line and newly joining the journey held my hand, assured me that all I felt was normal and natural, offered hope and encouragement, and provided invaluable insight.  My friends, new and old, made sure I went out, they provided a sense of normality, they plied me with drinks, and let me talk until I was blue in the face.  They listened, and tried to understand.  My Aussies reminded me who I was before and assured me that I had not died as well.  They talked of P, what he'd want for me.

Meeting my neighbours was one turning point for me.  These new friends cared.  They provided me with endless cups of tea, were always on hand to help solve a problem and I still rely on his handyman help and her loving hugs from time to time.

There are others who have become my support hotlines.  They are always at the other end of the phone,  there to talk me down from the ledge, and to make me laugh through the tears.

Most recently, an old friend has come back into my life.  He desperately wants to take my pain away, to make it all better.  And he does.  For short bursts of time.  He distracts me and makes me laugh and I am grateful to him beyond words.

And then there are those who spent this weekend with me.  Who let me share countless memories with them and held me in hugs and promised to always be there for me.

Finally, I want to thank the universe for providing me with past experiences that taught me that if I didn't deal with my grief FULL time, it would drag itself out forevermore.  I am still enrolled on the grief course as a full time student, but I've decreased my workload.  Someone shared recently that it's similar to learning to walk and talk as a baby.  This new life, without our love, has made me have to start over.  I've had to learn who I am again, what I want, and how to live this life without P.  You've all played such a huge role in helping me through this first year of survival.  If I haven't mentioned you directly, do not think I've forgotten your contribution, there's simply too many stories to tell, too many thank you's to express.

I've worked hard this year.  But the realisation that the work is not over just because the one year anniversary and come, and gone is a tough one.  I always knew that this would not mark the end of this battle, that really, it was just the beginning, but somehow I thought I'd feel differently today.  I'd wake up with a new sense that I CAN do this.  Instead, I feel tired by the long path that stretches before me.  But with your help, I'll keep plodding along through year 2.  

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful! The journeys of life add layers of depth to our being...through excruciating pain, the state of numb neutrality and the times of joy, we are informed of the huge dimension of life and of death...
    Blessings...

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