Grievances

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GriefGrievances
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Grievances has grieve inside it. I want her back, but I want to balance the many great things with a few "quirks".
Grievances has grieve inside it. Life is about balances -- and while I love my wife, I need to keep remembering the things that irked, annoyed me, or were less than perfect. In balance, I want her back so badly it aches. But there are no perfect humans, and I have to remember imperfections to help with the loss. Thus minor grievances help remind me of that.
ℹ️ Info          
Created: 2023-03-27 
  • Grievances has grieve inside it. Life is about balances -- and while I love my wife, I need to keep remembering the things that irked, annoyed me, or were less than perfect. No Pedastals allowed. When my Step-Dad and Grandpa died, my Mom was doing this overblown catterwauling, "they were perfect humans", because she thought that's what you should do, but maybe also to make her grief more important than everyone elses. It irked me, and I thought, "I'm not going to do that". In balance, I want my love back so badly it aches. But I need the humility of her imperfections to help myself cope with the loss and not dimish others losses as well. My pain is nothing special -- just the worst of my privileged life.

🗒️ Note:
I am a more flawed human than she was. Women in general are more nurturing and about giving to others than most men are. So while I was pretty helpful by midwestern/Texas/Latino/Asian male stereotype standards, I put the bar pretty low so that I don't look quite as selfish as I can be. More than that, witty know-it-alls (with limited brain-mouth filters) aren't easy to live with -- even, or especially, if they are right. But this isn't where I'll list all the grievances with myself. Just where I'll try to counterbalance Melissa that saint, with Melissa the stubborn, indecisive, quirky Woman that I loved totally, through those human flaws. And possibly because of them, or learning to deal with them made me a better person.
  • Stubborn God damn she was stubborn. When she was stuck on something, no amount of evidence was going to convince her she was wrong. About 3/4ths of the time she would "back down" by saying "Whatever" or something like that to avoid conflict... but that was Melissa speak for "I'm not going to argue any more... but I'm still going to believe what I believe, no matter what you or the facts or the video evidence says!" And on a few topics, she KNEW she was wrong, but still wouldn't give in. I loved her strength of character and determination 80-90% of the time. But on some topics you just threw up your hands and walked away. (It wasn't worth it).
    • There was also a side of sneaky. If you dislike confrontation, and are stubborn, and want something? Just go around the rules. Whhaaa?
    • And another side of passive aggressive (and I could do that back). She liked pictures everywhere -- more chaos than my zen aesthetic. I asked for fewer, she wanted more, so we compromised and did it her way. I did get her some collage frames, so she could put many pictures in a single frame, thus it was less clutter (items). It consolidated some frames, but that just left room for more. Every picture was a person/memory, so there could never be enough... except for the frames I asked her to fill 20 years ago. Those remained hung and empty.
  • "The Bitch Set me up!" When caught in a sting doing cocaine with hookers, D.C. Mayor Marion Barry (D) took the typical childish response of blaming everyone but himself, "The bitch set me up" (referring to the Hooker that was in on the sting). Maybe, but you did it. In this case, I don't know if I'm the bitch, or Melissa was - but I was setup.
  1. We talked MANY times about showing me her books and where things were, and so on. She didn't want to waste the time, and it was always in process of being changed, "Oh they're over there, you can figure them out", and so on. While she'd also say things like, "If I die, you're so screwed!" or "Do you realize how much I do for you/us?"... yes I do.
  2. I'd say "show me", especially when she was grousing around tax time, and Jan-Feb was the start of tax time. So we'd talked about this days or weeks before she went down. But I also recognize that she did the books because she wanted to do it her way. She didn't want to give anyone else input into HER system, even when it might help; doesn't share well with others.
  3. So I'm screwed... not because I can't do things, or didn't offer. But because she didn't want to share. And I was too lazy to fight her for tasks that I didn't want to do anyways. (But would have to be a better partner). This was the same with cooking -- she knows I CAN cook, and offered to cook (at least one meal a week at the start). She just didn't want to share, and wasn't good about giving up control. And I had few problems with taking advantage of that. So we both own a bit of the frustration I'm going through -- but she's giggling in Heaven saying, "I told you so". And I'm grousing down here, thinking, "that's why I kept offering to help/share/play backup", even though we both know that I didn't really want to.
  • Nurse Ratched Melissa was the jaded Nurse when it came to other people (or her husbands) suffering. She would be helpful and not mean when I was down -- and for a guy, I wasn't THAT bad. (I was more a go to my room and pout, kind of sick, rather than big whiner).
  1. Melissa having had serious maladies, had limited sympathy for lesser ones. Don't get me wrong, she was still Melissa and compassionate/helpful/kind. But hers ranked higher, mine ranked eye rolls when she thought I wasn't looking (or sometimes when she knew I was). For Melissa, what she'd survived helped maker her special (and it did). Thus others maladies were distracting from her toughest chick in the room image. (It was a tiny bit an ego thing to challenge her on war wounds).
  2. She was constantly having pains or quirks, and had a pretty high pain tolerance -- which contributed to her demise. She knew she wasn't 100%, but ran anyways, because she was impatient, and had lived a life of constantly changing pains (she was rarely 100%, and she took pride in toughness). Thus her death had a tiny amount of "her own fault". However, if she hadn't of been that way, she would have had a much lower quality of life, always worried about the latest pain/quirk/and so on. So she HAD to be like that, to have as good of life as she did. Many times I thought she should back off for safety and she wouldn't, and she was right. But eventually, the odds were going to catch up to her.
  3. I took a little delight over the times she was minimizing my suffering and it turned out to be serious, and she felt guilty about not taking it seriously (and I got some real sincere babying). I broke my elbow and slept on it, Gallstones that had to be removed, my cough was full on pneumonia. Nya! I told you this was a big deal. While I also took her complaints more seriously than she took them.
  • Insecurity Men have security and Women have insecurities that they don't deserve. If people would say unkind things, my first thought would be, "what's wrong with them", and M's would be, "what's wrong with me?" Or course, our second thoughts might balance that out -- but there was always this undertone of not being good enough, pretty enough, thin enough, fit enough, fast enough, nice/considerate enough, and so on. And my thoughts are, "Baby, you're a LOT better person than me, in all dimensions... and I'm still pretty good". I semi-joked with her, that I scored -- guys are on the prowl for an insecure, nice, not-stuck-up hot-chick, that doesn't know how hot she is, and pounce; predator/prey. I got my gazelle. Melissa would never say it, but it's like if Melissa ever said to me, "You fat, windy gas bag, what are you smiling at?". The answer is, "I have a hot, wonderful wife... I could have done far, far worse, and still be happy". I'd mean it. She wouldn't completely believe it. I so wish I could have gotten her over that, and see herself through my eyes.


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Grief
02/18 my wife had a 2023_Heart_Attack, and passed away on 03/22/23; the hardest day of my life. Except for the ones after it.



Tags: Grief Lessons


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