The Time of My Life
co-authored by
I haven’t read Patrick and Lisa’s aforementioned book but
from reading the reviews I know that he had experienced losses in his life. His
father died of a heart attack in his fifties, his sister committed suicide and
he and Lisa suffered the miscarriage of their son. The book was also written
while he was fighting incurable pancreatic cancer and that fact alone gives a couple
special insights on what it’s like to face loss.
Lessons to keep their spirit alive. When I say that phrase I
visual a grief counselor assigning someone to make a list of everything their
deceased loved one taught them about life and love as a way of refocusing their
grief onto something positive. But I’ve never been to a counselor or therapist so
all I’ve got to go on is my imagination for what goes on behind their
closed-door sessions. Maybe all the professionals do is let you talk and then they
say, “Time’s up. Leave your check with my receptionist on your way out.” But
then again, maybe just talking it out IS what we all need when someone dies. By
doing so, maybe we instinctively begin to focus on what our spouses taught us
over our years of being together. So many people in this world use their
spouses like mirrors to tell them who they are that they don’t see themselves
when that mirror is gone. It might be good, it might be bad or it might be ugly
but we widows do need to see ourselves again as individuals before the healing
process can come full circle.
Fact: Our loved ones help shape our characters and
personalities and we don’t fully appreciate that until they’re gone. For
example, my mother was a strong woman and she taught me to be the same. I keep
her spirit alive by nurturing that side of myself. My dad was a gentle soul, a
thoughtful and thought providing person and the life lesson I most identify
with him is this: By the grace of God it could be you or me. Decades ago my
cousin and brother took my dad to strip joint, thinking they’d shock him while
proving how ‘grown up’ and ‘worldly’ they’d become. (Back in those days strip
joints were much sleazier than they are today.) After the stripper did her act
my cousin asked my dad what he thought about a woman who’d do what she did. My
cousin expected a lot of things but he didn’t expect my dad to say, “Well, she
probably has a baby at home that needs milk and this is the best job she could
get.” That was my dad. Always looking for the story behind the actions of
others and the story usually came with an empathic twist. I often say that
‘grace’ is my favorite word in the universe and now you know why. I associate
it with my Dad.
My husband taught me many lessons about life and love, too.
But after 42 years of being together I’m having a hard time deciding who taught
who what. We were not bookends by any standards but in some ways we were like
chameleons that, on the surface, took on each other’s traits. He was outgoing by
nature and I am not but little by little I learned that strangers don’t
generally bite. He nurtured my love of writing but his oral storytelling taught
me a lot about adding textures and tones to the bones.
The core life lesson learned from Don that I should probably
honor would be that friendship is the most important ingredient in a
love-match. You don’t need storybook nights with candlelight dinners and champagne
to take your breath away. It can happen over take-out pizza. It can happen at
the grocery store. It can happen when ever his smile reminds you that this
person you’re looking at truly is your best friend. But how do I honor that core
belief short of writing romance books? I’ve already been there, tried that and
it didn’t work out because I can’t plot my way out of a paper bag. That reminds
me, though, that I should write a post about the year Don went to a Romance
Writers of America convention with me.
I don’t know if Patrick and Lisa’s suggestion about making a
commitment to take a core lesson a loved one taught you and making it true in
your own life is doable in all cases but it’s been a good exercise for me just
thinking about it. ©
I love what you said: "So many people in this world use their spouses like mirrors to tell them who they are that they don't see themselves when the mirror is gone". That was my experience. And you have written the process of healing so beautifully. Widowhood is a process of self discovery, a 'gift' I try to welcome; that is, if I'm not snarling.
ReplyDeleteThank you. I don't quite see the self discovery as a 'gift' because there is no return or exchange department. But I know what you mean.
ReplyDelete