Category: grief

My foundation was broken when Pat died.  As I try to rebuild, I can’t find the right pieces to use or when I do find pieces, they aren’t strong enough or I am afraid they won’t be strong enough to hold me up through out my life.  I had a strong foundation once…the whole fucking architecture of my life was perfect.  I thought it was bullet proof, unbreakable.  I had it all.  But it wasn’t indestructible.  A crack in the universe caused my whole world to come crumbling down around me and I was left standing in the rumble of memories and sadness.

But time has passed.

The wound has healed.

But the scar remains.

I have been thinking about where I am right now in my grief process and I realize I am at the rebuilding stage.  I have made it through the agony and daily crying spells.  I have made it through the why me’s and how can I go on period.  I have made it through who am I now and what am I suppose to do time.  Now I am standing at the building site of my new life.  Staring at it trying to picture what it is going to be like.  What my life is going to become.

It is an empty lot right now.  Actually, ground has been broken and some basic work has been done, but the real design hasn’t started yet.  I have started to lay the foundation.  I need a strong foundation, maybe even stronger than the first one, in order for me to feel safe and secure.  I know there is no such thing as 100% guarantee of protection from hurt and harm, but I am trying to safeguard against the unforeseen and unknown because I know it is out there and it is a possibility again.  I know the damage it can cause.   So I am working on building a strong one that can always be reinforced and improved upon in the future.

For one…I have developed a new relationship with God and have reconnected with my faith.  It may not look to others like a typical relationship, but it is my relationship and an amazing support system for me. I have also given myself the gift of time to heal and to get acquainted with my new self.  I have learned about who I am and what I want…more often than not it has been what I don’t want.  I have developed new friendships that are strong, healthy and secure.  I have taken the negativity out of my life and anyone who added to it.   I have opened my heart to allow for more love and I’ve opened my mind to new ideas.  I have tried new career paths and I have been forced outside of my comfort zone…in fact I feel like I live there almost every day.

All of this is the beginning to a strong foundation for the new me.

So what is next?

God I wish I knew.   I stand in this spot trying to take the next step.  To put that cornerstone in place and move on with the reconstruction of my life.  But I am scared.  I am always so scared.  This is another added bonus of losing Pat.  I am so scared of everything…of it being the wrong thing to do at the wrong time.  So unsure of my decisions.  But what I have recently come to see is that my fear is ridiculous.  It is holding me back from what I know I need to do or at least need to try to do.  I have been living my life as if I was in living in Groundhogs day…I keep going around and around and end up in the same place, or someplace very similar, which is safe and predictable, but leaving me unhappy and unfulfilled.  Fear is the only thing making me take this cyclical trip to the land of miserable.  It’s time to break free of this pattern.

I know this.

We all know this.

You can’t keep doing the same things expecting a different outcome.  Pretty sure that is the definition of insanity.

But I have to let this go.  I need to place the cornerstone of my new life down and begin building something new.  Something that will make me happy and bring me the peace I am so desperately searching for.  It’s a risk.  But it’s a risk I have to take, ready or not.  I’ve tried and tried to keep going the only way I knew how.  I’ve decided that I need to try something I don’t know how.  I have figured this widowhood and single parenthood thing out so far…There has to be hope that I can figure this out too.

I can’t keep complaining about the way things are if I am not going to try to make a change.  I hope my new foundation is ready for this because I believe this new life of mine has the potential to be something amazing.

Today is October 4.  Today is the day he should be celebrating his 47^th birthday. But Pat didn’t get to reach this milestone.  He never got to have his mid-life crisis.  He never got to experience the joys of aging with gray hair and wrinkles.  He never got to do so much.  Time ran out on him and he didn’t get to do any more than 44.  When I met Pat he was a young, care free, concert going, party loving man.  He worked hard so he could party hard.  He loved his friends, he loved his music, he loved life.  He wanted to go out and take on the world.  He had dreams of turning his love of music into his life career.  And then he met me.  I always felt like I took that from him…the dreams of the night life.  It seemed like he always wanted more than the family life.  But he said no.  He said when he met me his idea of more changed.   After he met me, more meant a family, and love, and growth and a future.  It no longer meant more nights out and parties to attend.  And so more he got.   He married me and he got more and more love every day.  And then the love overflowed when we added more to the Mahoney crew…First Seamus, then Quinn and finally Aidan.  With every more he encountered, he was happier, more grounded, more complete.

But then the day came when he got sick and all he wanted was more time.  26 more years was what he prayed for.  For some reason he thought living to the age of 70 would be enough for him and so he tried to compromise with God for those years.  As it turned out, 70 wasn’t his number.  But he did get more time.  He got six months to live where he could say more and love more.  He said all he needed to say and he had peace with his life and his death.   This man gave me more love than I could ever imagine.  He brought me more joy and more laughter and more meaning than one person deserves.

I still wish I had more.

More.

We always want more.

What am I going to do with my more?  I have so much more to give and do and experience.  I want to honor Pat by living a life that I am proud of.  Not worrying about what makes sense to others, but living the way I truly want to live.  This is what I want to do with the more I have been given.  I am not sure how much more I have, so I want to give it my all.  So instead of wanting more materialistic things, I want more living, loving, and laughter.  Because on this day of remembrance of the birth of an amazing man, friend, brother, son, husband and father…I want to celebrate the gift of life I have been given and the chance I have to make more of every moment.

Happy Birthday Pat Mahoney!

I’ve talked before about what the widow perspective has given me.  I want different things and I view the meaning of life differently.   I don’t care about things or money or others opinions.  I want to just live life on my own terms and with my own truth.  I found that I want to enjoy the little things…appreciate the sunsets, long walks, holding hands and hugs.  I want to live the little moments of life and know they are what makes me happy.  I don’t want to be caught up in the grind of it and worry about things that I can not control.  I have found this to be a peaceful way of living.  It felt like I was heading in the right direction.

But what I also found is that this new widow perspective on the world is lonely.  Lonely because not many people see the world in the way that I do.  The fact that the little things don’t matter.  The fact that all I want is to be at peace and surrounded by love.  I want to spend my time being…being on this earth, with people who fill me with love.  I found that I have started to isolate myself from people because I feel as though I am not  understood.  I began to feel alone and scared and a little like maybe I was crazy….maybe there was something wrong with the way I viewed the world or how I was trying to live my life.   I started to second guess my choices, my decisions, my desires.

And then the year I gave myself came to an end and day to day life began again.  I went back to work and started working on building our future once again.  I tried to heal myself and my heart by jumping back into the world in the best way I could.  But it doesn’t work the same anymore.  Not with the new perspective I have after losing Pat.  I can’t live balancing between the new me and the same old world.  I try to fit in with people.  I try to find my place again.  I try to feel safe and comfortable about the future…or even about today.

But life keeps on going no matter how hard you try to slow it down.

And the day to day grind of working, balancing finances and raising three boys on my own began to sit on my shoulders.  It began to weigh me down.  I started worrying about things that are out of my control.  I started worrying about the future and about money and about how I was viewed by others.  All the things I no longer want to worry about.  I felt to feel negativity surrounding me everywhere I went.  I couldn’t escape it and I started to want to run again.  It’s been a while since I have felt like running.

I’ve lost my focus.  I’ve lost my perspective.  I’m losing me.

I don’t even know where to go with this.

I need to go back to what matters to me.  The things that bring me peace and find my center.  For whatever reasons, I have stepped away from those things.  I think I began to think that I totally had this life thing down and I don’t need God’s help anymore or something.  I was doing better when I handed it over to him and led with my heart.  Trying to figure it all out on my own has left me off kilter.  I need to leave it in God’s hands and follow my heart.  I need to listen to my gut and go with the flow again.  In order to do that I need to take the time I need again.  I need to walk.  I need to write.  I need to read.  And I need to  be…truly be with myself.  I need a break.

I had been giving myself time every month or so to get away from it all.  To disconnect and step away from the solo parenting and all that comes with it.  I haven’t done that for some time and I see now that it is adding to the breakdown of me.  Finding that time is difficult though.  Finding the frame of mind to let go and not feel selfish or guilty for taking care of me is difficult.  But it is needed.  For all of us.

I need to do this now before I completely lose my perspective and lost my way.  I have always said I want to live this life in honor of Pat.  He would do anything to live and I don’t want to take my opportunity at life for granted.  I want to soak it up and feel it all.

So I will give myself this moment to feel sorry for myself for letting myself get off course and then I am going to yet again, pick myself up, dust myself off and get back on track.

I am still here for a reason and I want and need to continue living with an open heart and open mind.  The path is there for me…I just need to keep going without putting up a fight.

I am feeling the aches and pains similar to after you work out for the first time in a long time.  But the workout isn’t one on the body, but instead it is on the mind, heart, soul and spirit.  I am feeling beat up, tired and lacking any desire to continue.   I don’t feel like I have the energy to keep fighting the fight day in and day out.  

I am using all my energy to keep the boys on track with their school work and their lives.  I am using my energy keeping the household running, and making sure the money doesn’t run out.  I am wasting my energy on trying to come across like I’ve got this, when most days, I am barely keeping my head above water.

My energy is all used up.

Deep down I want to keep pushing on.   I know that things are better than they were, and I know they are way better than they could have been, and I also know that they will keep getting better.   But the day-to-day grind of life has caught up with me again and I have found myself someplace I haven’t been before.  I am in a place where I don’t want to keep trying to make a better new life for myself.  I don’t have the energy to keep pushing on, and so I just want to settle with whatever comes my way and just get through this life.

I know this sounds horrible and even as I hear myself say it I cringe.  But I honestly am at that point where I am tired of trying.

I don’t think people understand all that becoming a widow means.  People know that you lost your spouse, your partner in life, but there is so much more that is taken from us.  A sense of security, dreams and plans for the future, your identity, your confidant, your sense of peace and comfort are all taken.  For me, I feel like I lost everything.  I lost my center and my touchstone.    I lost my confidence, my focus, and my drive.

But, I gained strength and perseverance.  That is for sure.  I have gotten up so many times after being knocked down, but this time I just want to stay down.  I don’t want to keep up the battle for this new and better life which I desire.  I know I want it, I just don’t feel like going after it anymore.  It is so much harder than I make it sound.  It is so much harder than I thought it was going to be.  I want to be better and in a better place so badly, but time goes so slowly during the healing process and there is no magical end date.

And what I have found is that this healing is a total inside job.  My spirit and soul can only be healed by me. No other person can fix this problem; if that is what you want to call it.  I have people in my life who care about me and I care about them.  I have found people who make me happy again and want to try again.  But this doesn’t change the damage to my spirit.  They don’t make anything heal faster or take away my pain from losing Pat.  They give me a sense of hope for the future.  Hope that I can be happy again and I can be loved again and I can love again.   There is always hope for that and I didn’t think that was possible.  I am thankful for that and for them.  But that doesn’t change where I am in my healing process.  This is on me.  I have to find a way out of it.

When I write I am usually writing to myself trying to convince myself that I am going to get through this.  That I am doing okay.  I write with a positive outlook towards my future in order to push myself to keep going.  I know all the right words to say and I know all the things I need to do in order to not fall into the fit of despair again.  My brain gets it….it’s my heart, and I guess my soul, that is still struggling with finding my way.  My brain is ready to jump in and get things going, but the rest of me is still sitting on the sidelines wishing to play again and at the same time, secretly thankful I am not really in the game right now.

So here I am.  I am tired all the time.  A tired that sleep can not fix.  I don’t have the answer or the solution to where I am at and that scares me.  I am not sure of what to do next or how to get out of this one.  I am in unchartered territory with the feelings I am having.  Perhaps this is all part of the healing process, and I will wake up tomorrow with all the answers.  For now I will continue to leave it in God’s hands and pray that I can be patient and wait and see what he has planned for me.

Everyone needs a reason to get out of bed.  A reason to keep going.  A knowing that there is purpose in their life and meaning to what they do.  This is true for everyone.  For a widow, this need isn’t just a desire to feel fulfilled, it is literally their life.  In the beginning of this grief process, my  kids were my reason to get out of bed.  I was lucky to have them.  I have said it before, they saved me.  If it wasn’t for them I am not sure I would be here today, because I honestly didn’t see the point in the beginning.  I totally understood the dying of a broken heart cliché.  But I survived.  My boys gave me a reason to keep going.  I got out of bed every morning to get them off to school…if you are unaware, this is a big feat for a widow.  Your bed is a safe place where you can be at peace in your pain.  Your safety net to hide away from the world.  So getting out of that place is difficult, sometimes for days.
But I am wrapping up my sophomore year in widowhood and things have changed.  I don’t need to remind myself to get up or take a shower or do what ever it is that needs to be done.  I am up and living somewhat of a normal routine.  Finding a reason to get out of bed isn’t literal anymore.  It’s now the bed of my grief.  It’s the bed of feeling lost and alone.  It’s the bed of not knowing where to turn.  It’s my bed of which I have made to help protect my heart and soul.

This is the bed that I need help to get out of and stay out of, though there are days I am thankful I have that bed to retreat to. It protects me from the world, from my mind, from being hurt beyond repair.  But I need something to push me forward into life.  I am living in the sense that I am out and about and socializing and not hiding in my closet crying anymore, but I am yet to truly start living.  I know it is me who is holding me back from jumping out and living again because I know I have that passion…  That driving force to come at the world screaming here I am… bring it on.   I catch glimpses of this passion every now and then and I get that overwhelming feeling of calm and peace…that my world is going to be alright.

I think, for me, that I need this passion, or reason to keep going in order to help myself fully heal.  It is something to focus on that is bigger than me.  Something I can dive into and know I am doing something to better myself or the world.  People can do this in different ways.   There are people who exercise, which is an amazing way to help yourself heal..body, mind and soul.  There are people who dive into their work, their family, a home project…whatever…for me I write. I write about my pain.  I write about my healing.  I write about my plans, my dreams, my disappointments.  I write to help others.  I honestly write to help me.   I am still writing the book I want to write…perhaps some day you will be able to read it.  I just simply love to write.  It helps me to clear my mind.  It helps me to focus and figure out the nonsense in my head.  I am lucky.  I have found a reason to get out of bed.  Now to just keep it going and make it a passion to drive me further along my journey. There is still so much for me to figure out.

We all need to find our passion, widow or not.  For me it took widowhood to truly take the time to figure me out and learn about my passions.  I guess I had to be stripped away of everything I had in order to see the light and know why I was put on this earth.  To find my purpose.  To find my center.  When everything that matters to you is taken away, your world becomes covered in fog, a fog that blocks out the world and all the happiness in it.  But it’s when that fog begins to lift and you can begin to see again that you truly learn what is important in this life.  That is where the work begins in order to live again.  We survived the initial impact and assessed the collateral damage.  We realize we are still here for a reason.  Now it is our job to figure out what that reason truly is.  What is your reason for getting out of that bed?