Living in the past

Today is a day of reflection.  It is two years to the day that my wife of 40 years died.  We had a great marriage and a great life together.  We loved each other deeply.  More importantly, we liked each other.  She treated me like a king and I treated her like my queen.

After she died I was lost.  I wasn’t sure what to do next.  I knew I had to go through the grieving process but I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.  So I reached out for help and went to a grief support group run through the local hospice organization.  It consisted of me and five widows along with a couple of counselors.  I learned a lot about myself through that experience.  I learned that the thoughts and emotions I was feeling were perfectly normal.  All of us were having the same feelings and thoughts.  It was comforting.

At some point in my process my grief abated, somewhat abruptly, I might add.  I was out hiking in my favorite spot, our park, when I had an epiphany.  I had been focused on what I had lost but in a moment of clarity, I had a realization of how lucky I was at what I had had.  I thought about the many people I knew who never had the love I had found.  At that moment my profound sadness turned to profound gratitude.  And I still feel that way today.

So, now I ponder the last two years. 

Our minds are a funny thing.  I have written about the illusion of time; that the past and future only exist in our imaginations.  To be honest, there is a tiny spot in my brain that longs to return to my old life.  But it is a tiny spot. 

Actually, I am having a good time being an older single man.  I embraced my new role and tried to learn as much as possible as to what that means. 

However, there is also a tiny part of me that desires to find another partner.  I think that pair bonding is in our nature as humans.  But it is not really up to me.  Finding a compatible partner in this day and age is not an easy task.  There is so much trauma and fear in society today. 

I know this may sound strange but we can be comfortable with our trauma and fear.  It is easier to accept than the fear of being vulnerable with another person.  But that is just ego.  I know it and I don’t care.

I was talking to a friend yesterday.  She also lost her spouse a few years ago.  She was telling me about some of her friends who are still grieving after years of having lost their spouse!  They are more comfortable with their grief than their willingness to be vulnerable.

If you really want to have a relationship, you have to be willing to be vulnerable and get your feelings hurt.  After all, it’s just your ego.  That’s not who we really are.