Week 4

New normal is becoming routine. I miss her. I will always miss her. Life goes on. New normal is becoming routine. I miss her. I will always miss her. Life goes on. ℹ️ Info           Created: 2023-04-04

2023-04-12 to 04-18 - New Normal

• Grief/Day 21 - Domesticating and surviving.

• Grief/Day 22 - Not much today, but a bunch of Memes and thougths by others on grief.

• Grief/Day 23 - The upside of losing your spouse is you can finally watch whatever you want on TV. The downside is you don't want to watch anything.

• Grief/Day 24 - Woke up to a huge lightening storm, dreaming of Melissa. We were just doing shopping chores; that's new, I hadn't had a lot of those dreams. The lightening and thunder was definitely making a racket. Then I had a horrible thought, I'd been letting Zen (Cat) out on the back deck for 30 minutes, had I forgotten her? So cat hunting in the rain. What a metaphor.

• Grief/Day 25 - Big life decision are coming. The memorial ends the grieving for what was, or living in the moment. What's left is deciding the future. Which can be statis (holding on while deciding), or doing what I've done before, and remaking into something else. I've worn many hats... and the last one is gone. So what's the next one?

• Grief/Day 26 - Change is constant: embrace the change, because fighting it changes nothing.

• Grief/Day 27 - Society and Grief (societies ignorance causes grief complications), New Normal is more productive.

Day 21

           Main article: Grief/Day 21

Archie Bunker's Place Domestication isn't pretty Picked up the Death Certificates -- not sure what all I'll need them for, but I have them. I had to do this for 3 parents in the last few years -- but all of our stuff was in trust, common property or shared passwords. Only a few things I'll have to move to my name... as well as quite a few I'll have to start taking her name off of. I talked to someone else at the funeral home, I guess I'm kind of famous for the, "Melissa Wind Chime" crack... that was a new one for them. Bought iron-on patches, hunted down the iron (Melissa never ironed; always my job), fixed a pair of jeans that I wore the crotch out on. Not sure, why crotch fabric gives first, especially on my best fitting jeans... I'd like to imagine it is girth/manhood, but I suspect it's more to do with fat thy's rubbing together when I walk (as it's near the seam). Either way, another couple months out of a pair of jeans before I have to go clothes shopping (shudder); my mother destroyed me on clothes shopping in a department store. Goodwill is more likely. Speaking of walking, I'm doing more of that again -- just around the block refreshers; a mile or two here or there. I did those infrequently anyways -- but just upping it. It let's me get my thoughts together and talk on the phone while pacing and getting some Vitamin D. People often look at me, or question me like they think I'm putting on a huge act, or about to go Kurt Cobain -- but I can both love and miss my wife desperately, AND be functional and not in denial that this the new normal. We are only in week 4... or week 10 if you start counting from the heart attack... or week 1,664 since I met her and knew this was likely going to be reality someday. But I woke up today, it's a nice day, I have a good life, I will miss her many times today, and I can carry that burden. Life goes on. I continue the converting property management and bill tracking from Melissa to Dave's system. The paperwork is mostly filed and in order -- a lot of figuring out accounts and finding money in odd place. "Oh, I have to transfer OUT of Venmo, so that's pooling money". We were in the process of transferring banks and credit cards, so which auto-bill pay is on which card/account, and can I get rid of them. As well as lingering points on cards, which is why they were never cancelled -- what thing do I buy with that, so I can cancel that card and reduce my fraud/credit threat surface.

Day 22

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Anything But Love I enjoy Memes pithiness. Some are inspirational, some are depressing, some just are. But here are a few I've saved about Grief Think of grief like an amputation; you can't fix it, it won't grow back, you just support them while they adapt to their new reality. Some adapt quicker than others, but life will never be the same for them. NOTE: I'm not having a bad day, week or life. Many of these don't reflect my mood (today). But I've had to understand them. If they help you understand the grieving, or they touch you as you grieve, then they've done something good.

Day 23

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Charles in Charge The upside of losing your spouse is you can finally watch whatever you want on TV. The downside is you don't want to watch anything. Today was just a blah day. Walked a few miles, washed the car, did Walmart shopping, cleaned/organized some stuff (including drawers), talked to some folks, did a little paperwork, and it was still felt bleak and non-productive. Not depressed -- I cracked jokes, got some stuff done. It just felt like Brazil (the movie, not country). Tomorrow is a swim day.

Day 24

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On Our Own I awoke to a rather definitive racket and flashing of lightening and thunder. With the lightening hitting close and loud. (Like the train tracks, or docks/houses a hundred hards away). At least a few good strikes that close. AND LOUD! How very "welcome to Tax day"... (I'd filed an extension this year). I don't usually remember dreams as they aren't usually significant/memorable -- but I'd been lightly dreaming of just doing weekly chores with Melissa. I haven't been doing a lot of that typical pining for my ex wife in my dreams, as my psyche seems to fundamentally understand that she is gone and I have to keep going forward. Even this fealt more like I was reminiscing about it than it happening in the present -- just nostalgic, "remember how happy you were with the mundane?" Yeah, thanks. I can both be happy now and living in the moment, and still miss that. I wonder if that's just subconcious guilt that I'm slowly grinding forward without her, and packing traces of her away, or just the randomness of dreams. Then I had a flash of panic? I'd been letting the cat out during the day on the back deck, where's Zen? I'd been setting timers to bring her back in; wouldn't forget her outside? Would I? I'd gone to bed a little earlier, and don't remember her sitting with me on the couch. Of course with lightening and rain, she wasn't answering calls; not that cats are ever particularly urgent in responding. So I hunted the house and the back deck with a flashlight in my sleepy-boxers. Finally finding her hiding underneath the spare bedroom bed, and not coming out with all that noise going on. Whew. I wondered if cat hunting in the rain, and the terror of forgetting to do something I should have, was some sort of unconcious metaphor for my life now. Nobody to back me up, or remind me when I was wrong/forgetting something. Or just a sleep addled brain, not quite function right after being shaken out of REM sleep + NyQuil stupor.

Day 25

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Hill Street Blues Sleep is being a bit more elusive, but little of it is about grief (or the cortisol that comes with it). Week 1 was wallowing in grief (and self pity). Week 4 (or Week 9 since the heart attack), is about resurection. Not of my wife, but of my life before marriage. I started with acceptance, but was wallowing in the present (and that was of being a Widower). But I'm doing what I've done a dozen times in my life; moving forward from just suriving in the moment to adapting towards the new future. What's next? I've remade myself many times; from the scared and lonely kid at age 5, to the self-sufficient one. From the bullied/abused child, started becoming the bully in my teens before I got control of myself and became a Martial Arts instructor and defender of others. From healthy, to anxiety ridden, to someone who beat their anxiety disorder/phobias and helped others. I went from contractor to employee, sole contributor to VP (and back to sole contributor (or manager). From So-Cal, to Central-Cal, to Ohioan, Austonian, Silicon Valley, to Texan. So what's the next me going to be? Marriage is about us. Single is about me. A lot my purpose was to make Melissa happy. I didn't choose to be single -- but like in marriage, while I get a vote, someone else decided the tie breakers. While I was a really good husband -- before marriage I was a really good Martial Artist and had more activities. Instead of letting Melissa to work the contacts, activities and travel, and being her support -- the purpose in life is more self interested. I'm back to trying to be a good single person. And is this how I want to stay? Healthcare was a crudgel used by M, to keep me working (for her healthcare). But looking into that the other day, it's not close to a barrier for me retiring either with her, or certainly now without her (at 1/3rd the cost). After the memorial, I'll end this part of the blog. I'm not "over" grief... in that Melissa will always be a part of my life and past, and part of how I became who I am. But I'm done with this part of my life -- the statis between Husband, Widower, and whatever is next. And the house and life needs to continue the journey from reflecting "us" to representing "me". My biggest decisions are around work-life balance. A couple decades ago, I shifted from defining myself by my job -- to it being a job. Bad managers only had the agency I gave them. And while I don't currently have bad managers, I'm trying to decide if it's time to: (a) focus on my job like before (b) focus on my life (c) stay in the middle. My current job is great in the middle; good enough job that gives me good enough satisfaction, balance and good enough pay. But if I want to go back to my career potential, it would be somewhere else. If it's focusing on my life (what good is fuck you money, if you won't go enjoy it?), then it's time to become globe-trotting retiree, or do something crazy like go live in Iran for a while, then it's probably bye-bye to job. Or the decision of indecision; taking a sabatical and leave of absence to hold me a spot and see where my head is at in 6 months or a year.

Day 26

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Newhart Too dark? I keep changing little things around the house, to make steps and remind myself of the new normal; balance between burning it all down and keeping it a shrine. Small changes. Like I'd had this little sign custom-made for her because she liked the slogan. I wasn't ready to throw or hide it away. But it no longer fit my/our reality... and needed modifying. So a little black-tape repair, and it changed from a temple to her/us, to a darkly inspirational reminder for me. Life changes. This sucks. But it doesn't suck so much that I can't carry on, and thrive without her. Life goes on. People on the grief forums loved it -- you can't erase the past, just tape over it and go on. You & Me - we got this. Me - I got this. I also created a Resources Section, for some of the things I've read or been involved in. Maybe that will help some others.

Day 27

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Get Smart Good Griefers Reading a lot of the grief forums, many (especially the younger ones) seem to have many/most of their problems because of external pressures on their grief and then much of the rest is because they are worried if they're doing it wrong. They aren't the problem, society (those that haven't experienced this kind of loss, but have strong opinions on it) are the problem. Society is profoundly ignorant, especially when they think they aren't. They read something like the 5 stages of grief and think they know. That was a paper by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross on some of the things (no particular order) that someone with a terminal diagnoses might deal with. It got stamped as a blueprint for all grief, and applid to unrelated experiences like the loss of a spouse. Yeah, not even close, and the author admitted she wished she'd never written it. Quoting it is a re-flag to me. Society is profoundly superstitious and judgy, they make up something like grief should last 1 year, and then thinks others are doing it wrong if they veer from that lane. But reality is that many are ofer the initial hurt quickly (days or week), then the deeper loss last a lifetime. Many are functional the whole time -- others get in loops/traps. But many think they know what it should look like, and those in grief are never quite conforming to that construct. But the outsiders construct is not what's important -- it's the grievers one that matters. So the outside can listen and not judge, or judge and be wrong. Better off dead I would never say that Melissa, or me, is better off with her dead. There isn't anything I wouldn't give to have her back. But as a Widow Friend said, losing his wife, forced him to be a better person. That doesn't mean there's some karmic lesson or balance served, no design that she had to die so that I could grow. Bullshit. And that growth comes with brutally deep cuts/scars/loss that isolates you from people/society that doesn't understand it, pretends they do, and knows exactly how you're doing grief wrong. You just usually have to let it go, because you're not going to win an argument with someone else and their beliefs (no matter what those beliefs are rooted in). But my life before Melissa (or when she was away on trips) was more active, and I kept myself far more busy, took more risks, had more drive (ate less, and worked out more, and generally lost weight). With her, I wanted her company, waited for her to do things, and generally was more content and home, and less driven. She also equated food with love, liked making meals, providing snacks or going out, and I did a lot more eating or snacking. Just in a month since the food train stopped, I've shed somewhere between 10-15 lbs (depending on benchmarking against high or low weight mark for a week). Without the contentment of her/home, I'm more likely to go out and hunt, do chores, do something to fill that contentment void. If I had a choice between playing on the computer with her watching TV next to me on the couch, or doing chores or working out? The less healthy option often wins (with her around). With that option removed? I'll go do something. I might not be as content, but it's not a bad life. It's like given the choice of sex and a post coital nap, or going and working out; a cuddle and snore is the less healthy and more likely option. (Ignoring that that would still leave 23 hours and 53 minutes in the day). But without the option of the former, I might as well get my lazy ass out and do something. And of course it's not just about sex, I meant that about almost any variation of spending time with her, or going out and doing something alone. I couldn't do things in the morning, because it would wake her up. And except for Saturday runs, that eliminated often 3-4 productive hours between 5 and 9 AM). At night, generally, she wanted a bigger meal for dinner, and the time to talk around the table... then afterwards it was more heavy after the meal and she wasn't a big, let's go out, kinda person. (Her activity cycle was mid day). So I loved her ADHD energy, and watching her buzz around, running on caffeine and adrenaline. But without her doing it, someone has to -- and that's me picking up the gap. It does make the days go by faster.

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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/Weeks