Magical Thinking

Magical thinking is what we do when we cannot accept the finality of death.

On January 1, 2009 I wrote this when Glen was suffering horrific pain due to the cancer that had metastasized into his spine:

I believe with all my heart...that the body can heal itself - even from a disease as horrific as cancer..

On February 14, 2009 I wrote of the hope for prolonging life:

Valentines day - and small hope flows from my heart. Glen will begin a new round of chemotherapy...We are looking at treatments every three weeks for six cycles - a total of 18 weeks. This will bring us into June...

Glen would be dead in 28 days. Five months later, on August 23, 2009 I wrote:

This past week was one of revelation...Mike bought me a balloon for my birthday...May 17...at first I imagined that Glen's spirit in the balloon was standing guard over in the corner...on sentry duty...the balloon would rotate to expose the message “Happy Birthday”...I thought, “Glen’s spirit is saying hello to me...”I’d greet the balloon and it comforted me as I approached another lonely day...I wondered how long Glen’s spirit could keep the balloon afloat...On August 19...the balloon could no longer float...the balloon embodied with Glen’s spirit (had) kept floating into my vision and into my heart...Since the balloon has gone, I have tried to come to grips with how to live...

Magical thinking keeps our heart and spirit alive until we can begin to find a way to live again.

Another Wave...

Drowning in sorrow; back to the time of the death watch as Glen slipped away.On February 6, 2009 I wrote:

Glen has been getting radiation therapy...after seven treatments and increased pain medication the pain has not diminished. I now assist Glen in almost all of his daily needs...all in all I am exhausted by the end of the day...

Glen’s mom has started radiation treatments, to relieve the pain in her shoulder. She is in the hospital and hoping if she can manage the pain, she can go home.

On February 18, 2009 I wrote:

It is 5:15 in the morning. I tried to slept on the couch last night to be close to Glen - very restless sleep - kept waking up...Glen, twitching in the chair, oxygen on, c-pac off...I am trying to think things through. I need to figure out what options lie ahead...yesterday, news from the MRI brain scan that Glen has 10 to 15 lesions (cancer spots) in his brain was a blow...

On February 23, 2009 Glen was admitted to the hospital due to the severe pain in his ribs. On February 28, 2009 Glen receives a soft release into Hospice care. He signs a DNR and other forms necessary to receive hospice home care.

One March 19, remembering, I wrote:

Death came silently, without any appearance of struggle, simply a kind of surrender as Glen’s body wore out on Saturday, March 14. Brenda and I both watched the final two breaths, Glen’s adam’s apple moving slowly until stopping completely. No death rattle - just silence.

Now, I am left to feel again the wave of sorrow crash over me as I wait and watch Glen’s mother embark on the same journey. So much alike, mother and son. Grief smashes apart my heart.

Left Behind

I remember Glen telling me shortly after he was diagnosed with the lung cancer, it would be more difficult for me than for him because I would still be here.

On 6/3/08 after reading The Time Traveler’s Wife I wrote:

I find myself thinking about being left being left behind which was the main theme of the book... I do not want to go to this place - the void without Glen...I feel I am in a place now where Claire was whenever Henry would disappear and she is waiting for him...uncertain if he will return. So I sit and wait - not knowing whether I will be left behind.

Glen had been dead for 4 months when on 7/18/09 I wrote:

I feel the loss of the love of my life and still cannot believe fully that life is worth going on without him with me...it continues to be very difficult to fill the hours, let alone the day.

On 1/1/10 I wrote:

Now I must find a way to live a “me” life because the “we” part of my life has ended. My hope for 2010 is that I will find a way to begin creating the rest of my life without the love of my life to share the adventure.

On 1/31/10 I began to make this shift when I wrote:

I was totally unprepared for life without Glen...I was thrown into a state of grief so intense I was unable to think..Slowly you move from grief to mourning. I believe I have begun to mourn...I can see myself in the future instead of only in the past. I know I will live.

Grief is about being left behind, in the empty space of living; grief shifts to mourning when you begin to see a way to live.

4-ever grief

On February 26, 2008 I wrote:

I've been thinking about endings and how you rarely know when it will be the last time you see someone...I think I may be approaching this (end) with my beloved Glen. Often you don't know - but with a diagnosis of lung cancer, you have the opportunity to know that the end is near..."

And on August 24, 2010 I wrote:

Time marches on - routines develop and replace old patterns. The pain from grief lessens but seems to engulf me at unexpected moments...

Yesterday I received a phone call from Glen's sister - Barbara, their mother was diagnosed with lung cancer - very late stage - and the physical pain and grief crashes down on me once again.

Grief is unending - renewed with each loss or impending loss. Grief is forever.

As someone said to me a few months ago, "You never get over grief - so get over it."