MARCH 13, 2012 5:04AM

To Every Season, Stop Turning

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I'm excited about Spring this year. The rain and cold weather are hard, and the warmth on my skin makes me happy. When people tell you that time makes the grief more bearable it sounds unreal. How can time be anything but pain? Every moment is a moment without the person you love. 

The concept of "more dead" is something I often fight. He seems to be more dead all the time. The more I become alive, the more dead he feels. 

I am older than most of my widow friends. I am 15 months old, and this is my second Spring. My first Spring was agony, and I'm watching my friends go through this now.  When my fiance died it was just beginning to get cold. It was the time of year when you carried a light sweater around. Where I live it doesn't rain all summer. Less than a month before he died we ran out onto our balcony to dance in the first rain. Almost immediately the few rain drops stopped falling and we laughed, went inside, and continued on with life. 

The winter fit only too well. The day after his death my sister and I flew to his hometown, where his parents wanted him buried. If I had been in the right state of mind of I would have mentioned that he wanted to be buried somewhere else, but I think it's good for them to have him so close. When we arrived, there was snow on the ground. I never once felt cold, or hot, or hungry, thirsty, awake, asleep, alive. By the time I came home the rain was pouring down every day. 

I would lay in bed in the morning and listen to the rain. Their is this rumor that most people kill themselves in the winter, but this is actually untrue. When you are sad, the winter is comforting. You can bury yourself beneath blankets and feel justified by the sound of the wind and the rain. It's as if nature is saying, "Yep, this totally sucks." I've read that more people actually complete suicide in the Spring. The world comes alive and you see how far away you are from everyone around you. People are dancing and laughing, and you are still laying on your kitchen floor crying onto soapy hands because you collapsed while doing your dishes for the first time in two weeks. The divide between your inside world and outside world becomes so deep, and it becomes all too apparent just how sad you actually are. 

Grief adds another element to the changing of the seasons. I felt like the world was turning too fast. I wanted to dig my heels to the center of the Earth and just tell everyone to hold on, stop for a moment, the world can not go on without the man I love. He was becoming more dead. He died in winter and I would not allow the Earth to keep on spinning. The universe, time itself, was ripping us farther and farther apart. 

Now it is my second Spring. Now I am the woman in the chat rooms comforting my sisters and telling them that yes, time does make it better. When an especially warm wind touches my face I am still filled with sadness, but it's not a sadness for him all the time. It's more like a memory of my own pain wafting up from long ago. 

I no longer feel a desperate need to halt the passage of time.

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"The concept of "more dead" is something I often fight. He seems to be more dead all the time. The more I become alive, the more dead he feels."

I understand exactly what you mean - you want to keep his memory alive. But this concept is part of the healing process, and the fact that you recognize it means that you are doing well. Keep your chin up - Spring is right around the corner!
I have not experienced the pain and trauma that you have - and I don't have words for you - but I wish I did - you tell this so well - I feel I can feel it - if only just a fraction of what you have experienced - I have no doubt you are a comfort to your sisters - keep writing - I'm reading
"I'm excited about Spring this year...the warmth on my skin makes me happy." This is an extremely significant milestone for you.

This piece is filled with remarkable milestones moving beyond the unbearable. "...I would not allow the Earth to keep on spinning." The world needed to stop for you-for a little while. You got hit hard. You were forced to let go of someone you love.

"Now I am the woman in the chat rooms comforting my sisters and telling them that yes, time does make it better." Another milestone-the reaching out, extending your hand, offering to pull somebody else back up onto their feet. Remarkable.

"I no longer feel a desperate need to halt the passage of time." You have been forced to learn a whole new way of walking through time. You're figuring it out-we hold each other up. We carry the love forever. You’re doing all these things remarkably well.

Beyond Remarkable.
Thank you, thank you, thank you! I want to dance and spin. I want to write and write and write. Your encouragement is everything! Deep, warm hugs.
You are taking the brave way.
I didn't ~ I ran from grief. You don't stop running & you know
in the end, it will find you anyway. It finds me every day.
I wish I'd taken the brave way.
In 1998, on the Ides of March, my friend killed himself. He tried everything to feel better, but nothing worked. I tried everything to help him, but nothing worked.

It was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I hadn't read your blog yet, but on Sunday night something familiar triggered that old pain, and it hurt so much I could barely breathe.

I appreciate your writing and your honesty. I am sorry for your pain. Yes, time (and in my case, lots of therapy) eventually makes it possible to go on, but it is an open wound that will never heal. It is still wrong that he is not in the world. So wrong.
Your words here touch me deeply. I remember being surprised ... a bit ... that time didn't halt ... itself ...
I knew the day of my fiance's death that life would go on, clocks continue ticking and the season's would change despite the fact that I didn't want them to. I'm still completing my first cycle of seasons and holidays, but am hopeful that one day they won't be lonely and tearful.

Awesome writing. Keep it up.