Cycles

I am struck by the cycle of life reflected in seasonal changes and how this mirrors my life. This week marked the winter solstice when following the longest night, light begins to return. Increasing days of darkness transform into increasing days of light, providing hope as we move toward another cycle in our life. On December 17, 2008 I wrote:

I feel such sadness that Glen’s life is the way it is...so I go on with my life, doing what I need to do for myself to stay healthy, physically and mentally and spiritually

I knew that Glen’s life was ending and I struggled with the knowledge I would live. A year later, on December 19, 2009, as the reality of trying to live and the connection with the cycle of seasonal change approached, I wrote:

Creating a life without the love of my life is a difficult process - but something that I need to do if I am to find some fulfillment in living.

This year I continue to struggle with creating a way to live. The deep pain from grief ebbs but is never quite absent. Uncertainty remains ever present. I think about the lines from a poem my sister sent to me and I am hopeful:

The Thing Is - by Ellen Bass

http://www.elabs7.com/c.html?rtr=on&s=fj6,nhgr,dv,1lic,mb9j,9qya,zur

to love life, to love it even

when you have no stomach for it

and everything you've held dear

crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,

your throat filled with the silt of it.

When grief sits with you, its tropical heat

thickening the air, heavy as water

more fit for gills than lungs;

when grief weights you like your own flesh

only more of it, an obesity of grief,

you think, How can a body withstand this?

Then you hold life like a face

between your palms, a plain face,

no charming smile, no violet eyes,

and you say, yes, I will take you

I will love you, again.

I must believe that as the seasonal cycle changes, and moves toward increasing light, I too, will hold life like a face and again embrace life.

Giveaway Ceremonies

As the end of the year approaches, it is marked by ceremonies of gift giving and gratitude. Last year, the first season of giving without Glen, I purposely included his spirit in gifting. On December 13, 2009 I wrote:

Music was a gift Glen gave to me and I wanted to share this with others.

I spent some time thinking about how to include gifts from Glen to our family. I wanted these gifts to inspire memories of Glen, and gratitude for his life. I continued in my journal:

My nephews’ two boys are musical...I sent them each a Stevie Ray Vaughn CD (from Glen’s collection) because Glen thought he was one of the great guitar players of our musical time...I wanted them to listen and learn and in this way pass along some of Glen’s passion for music.

I sent each of my two nephews a Grateful Dead CD since I knew they both had followed the group during their own youth. I wrote:

Even if they already had copies of the CDs it wouldn’t matter as these were gifts from Glen...

As it turned out, one of the CDs was my older nephews favorite which he had lost several years earlier - much gratitude flowed from this gift. I sent a Willie Nelson CD to Glen’s dad, hoping he had a CD player in his truck - which he did. I sent Glen’s brother a photo of Glen flying in his hang-glider. I wrote:

Glen was joyful when he flew - he was free in a way he could never find “on the ground”...

I sent personal items like a heavy scarf to our nephew in Vermont, and created a special beaded necklace for Glen’s mom, with a silver heart shaped locket containing a picture of her as a young woman and a picture of Glen as a teen. I wrote:

My wish is that this will bring (his mother) joy - good memories of her Glen growing up.

This year, the second giveaway season since Glen’s death, I struggle with the emptiness of having no gifts to send from Glen, nothing left to give, nothing left to receive.

Letting Go

When our loved one has died - there are things that we inevitably let go. For me it began slowly - with physical things that had belonged to Glen. Most of his clothes were the first things to be passed on to others. On June 21, 2009 I wrote:

Last weekend was three months since Glen’s death...I cleaned out Glen’s dresser and gave some of his clothes away...

Letting go of Glen’s clothes was easier than some other letting go items.

The most difficult thing was when (my friend and her family) came over and took Glen’s records and turntable...listening to records and singing along - that was a big part of what we did together...

As time has passed, I have been able to let go of other items belonging to Glen. Personal items - shoe inserts, glasses - were some of the last things to go. And I must confess, I continue to hold onto a few items - his shoes, his ties - for some unknown reason I can’t seem to let go.

The non-physical things are harder to let go. On May 14, 2010 I wrote:

I recognize my current wave of sadness concerns my loss of his total love and support ... now that I don’t have his unconditional support I can become filled with doubt and uncertainty, lost in the world along...

This realization has led me down the path of letting go of my reliance on Glen’s steady support and love for me. This is the most difficult letting go - it means Glen is dead, and I must find a way to make a life for myself without him.