handpuppets and anniversaries

Here I am...in Japan. Hiroshima to be exact. Its things like this.....the  Holocaust Museum, pics of Aushwitz, or the S.S.Arizona Memorial that makes me view my loss from outside my shoes.  which isn't to say that it puts "my" loss in "perspective". Because putting something "into perspective " means you are "comparing" your loss and thus determining ...... if the depth of grief I am experiencing  "fits".  Since now there is a range for grief. Which is actually totally ridiculous!  And silly really.
        But, for  many of the past 18 months since Mike died, I've been guilty of thinking this very thing.  Because you read or hear of so many other tradgedies that are "so much worse". I think that's how I fell into this idea that I should keep my grief " in perspective ".
           I felt it made sense that those who lost several family members, husband and/ or multiple kids...all at the same time...had the greater loss and, it logically follows that their pain they felt must be exponentially greater than mine.
         The problem is that... if that were so.... they should all be dead.     Because their grief should've killed them.  Since their grief must be so much more wrenchingly and exponentially greater.....well I just don't know how they are still breathing.  Honestly. It should kill you.  So this isn't said to imply that if these people didn't die from grief that I am belittling their loss!  Nor do I mean to magnify mine. I just can't imagine how a person physically survives and doesnt die from sheer heartbreak if it was much beyond what I've felt.  But there  there must be worse pain. Because there is an actual medical condition that mimics a heart attack, nicknamed broken heart syndrome, which is documented in medical journals. I think a coma would be preferable. So.... knowing about broken heart syndrome just reinforces a belief that pain from loss/ grief... is on a continuum. A range exists. So I would try to put mine into this perspective. I would read  of the tradgedies besetting others and would view my allotment of "deserved" grief based on what there's must be.  Grief was put on a scale.   And there were times when, reading about a tradgedy that was far worse than what I was going through, it actually did make me feel better. The old "it could be worse" adage really can comfort!  But I  no longer put emotional grief and its consequent pain on a continuum. Physical pain. can be put on a continuum. But emotional pain....No.  It varies.  But it is not linear.   And thinking that it was...made my loss of Mike seem trivial at times. But it was and never will be trivial to me.
            Okay.  So a lot of deep meandering going on this morning! But...on a positive note.  My grief is healing.  It's a much much "quieter pain". It's like this shower of  sadness that gently washes over me when something triggers my realization tht Mike remains...gone. So much better and easier to endure than the earlier, actual physical sensations that my body was being ripped apart.
              But then I go to a place like I did yesterday!  To the Hiroshima peace memorial. And it puts me right back at war with myself.  Am I wrong?  Is there a perspective..a continuum that I am somehow not fitting into correctly?  And, if true, Why?  I have complete faith that Mike is in heaven. I can't wait to see him again.  It will be so great. And I know that Jesus is smiling and holding me as I go thru this new life chapter.   And I have a trust that God has something for me in this chapter that needed me to be where I am now...without Mike. Not sure what it is...but He'll show me.  So....am I, in spite of all that, having a harder time "dealing" with my loss than Ishould be?
           Because, as I go through the Hiroshima Museum, And see the photographs and read the placards , I start to hear whispers such as, "I should be done by now".  Am I not "entitled" to the pain I still feel?  I realize that my loss is nothing compared to theirs.  So the whispers grow louder... "That's right.  Look at them!"
          I'm familiar with the whispers.  They came  often during the first few months after Mikes death.  When I read yahoo posts of Mothers who'd lost two or more children in a car wreck ...or a bus tragedy. Or headlines would blare that a parent had killed all their kids leaving their broken-hearted mate alone to survive.
          I believe the whispers come from Satan and his little minions. It would be nice if, as a Christian, I was immune to hearing their whispers but we aren't. If anything, were the sought-after target!  ( Loved "The Screwtape  letters" by C.S. Lewis :).  People may think whispers like these...but rarely voice them if they do!  Satan has no such diplomacy.
         Having my faith and walk with Jesus rocked to its very core initially after Mike died was so tough. But getting my relationship with Him restored again has been immeasurably comforting and I am so grateful for faith that comes from Him, and not from my eyes, ears, or head. But from inside...in my spirit He has poured in Himself. And I am saddened for those who hear the duplicitous whispers of Satans minions and don't recognize their true source.
         But, I must get back to where I am "now".   When whispers that my grief isn't worthy of the extreme pain it has generated ...."because I am to... look at the "thems"....start up, I forcefully squelch them. Vigorously!  ( But it sometimes still may require multiple squelchings!) ;).  
          I AM entitled.  I have not exceeded my "pain and hurt quota".  I am not limited on what this is like for me because I "only" lost my husband.   And... there's another side I need to guard against!   Recognizing that my pain is not greater because I was married 25 years and best friends with Mike for 29 years.  Because my imperfectness DOES want to diminish the grief of those who've lost a mate when it's been a marriage of "only" .. say ... 5 years. or 10 years. or 20 years.!  Even as I type this, I realize I must really be awful. Here I am, irritated by those  well-intentioned (and totally useless ) well-wishers who are probably nodding their heads right now.  Silently  smug that "they knew grief can't be compared" and " could've told me that!".      Because they probably did!  Numerous utterances that "Everyone's grief is their own" and "everyone goes through grief differently" have been said to me, usually accompanied by sympathetic squeezes of my hand.  And they mean well and I am appreciative of their attempts to comfort.
         And, since I am pretty much the protoype for imperfect Christian- walking,,,, those comments left me wondering silently if I'm on always living on an island by myself.  Is no one else out there  thinking my thoughts like... "some" people have it "worse than me" or that " my grief should ease   much quicker than the grief experienced by those who've lost more than...."just" their husband". and here is this memory now sidesteppedingbinto my consciousnesses...
              The absolute  worst comment given to me a couple months after Mike passed away was that the time needed to "get over a loss"  is different for everyone.  
                 Bad!  Uh uh! Major ouches!  Even before Mike, with my own Dad's death...and the miscarriage...I learned then you  never 'get 'over' it. Horrible, horrible phrase!!  Should be struck from the English language! But I will and AM...  getting 'past' it.
                And now my thoughts make their tangential way back to the Peace Memorial Museum I saw just yesterday. And to the Holocaust Museum I saw in DC.  And the yahoo posts and newspaper clippings. Yes. Much like Hiroshima, Hawaii, and even Aushwitz  survivors have moved past their horrors and loss. But never "over" it. I don't think you are ever "over" or done" with grief.   I have  pains that shoots abruptly and raggedly thru my chest like they did today during one of the frequent, yet always unexpectedly triggerred "Where are you, Mike!?" "Why aren't you here!?"-moments.
          Yep, these are the sugary thoughts crowding in this morning...waking me and then preventing me from going back to sleep.   Which is why I finally grabbed my IPAD and started this post.
              It's only 5 AM. Amie is asleep in the rock hard Japanese hotel bed that is next to mine. I'm sitting propped up by four equally bulletproof pillows typing my thoughts.  There's a huge reason why insomnia has gripped me.  And why the Peace Memorial visit yesterday has had such an impact on this particular nights slumber though...
          Today is March 4th.    26 years ago today, I walked down an aisle wreathed with hearts and ribbons toward my best friend of the past 4 years.  hearts and hearses. I'm only now noting how similar is the spelling between those two words!
          Bombs, carnage, and death pictures probably weren't the best thing to be inundated with the day before. But it is what it is.  And it's triggered insomnia and a slew of thoughts.  Before starting this post, I used my cellphone flashlight to make my way through the teeny room that passes well for a hotel room (if you're the petite Japanese female) to get to the IPAD. My gangly 5'8 non-petite, american frame threw fierce, huge shadows on the wall and, I couldn't help myself.   I did a few  
shadow puppets. And immediately the thoughts came.   ."Mike would laugh so be laughing at me!"or the next thought hits me that..."Mike might've joined me (with a bit of cajoling)".
           These "would've" thoughts are what devastates.  Much like the Black Rain that followed the initial blast at Hiroshima.  The rain carried with it seeds of illnesses that brought pain and misery to its victims weeks,  years and even decades later.   that is why time doesn't bring immediate healing to sorrow. Because Time also carries with it all the "Mike would've's ".  The triggers for those are numerous and inescapable.
          Tennessee, Boston, New York, California, Charleston, SC, Banner Elk, NC,  Barcelona, Belgium, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, Cozumel....and now, Japan. That is a lot of travel in only 18 months. Yet there has been no escaping the loneliness.  Even though one or the other, or both, of my girls have been with me. I can stand on the bow of a ship, in a crammed fish market, a foreign department store, or stand in a queue waiting to board a plane...and feel utterly alone.

              Sites, smells, and sounds that are familiar trigger lightening bolts of pain and those that are new bring a wrenching to my heart because the thought is there before you can stop it from forming! You can't hide or outrun it! It just shoots into your consciousness...how "Mike wouldve" reacted, what "Mike would've" thought ...of this...or of that. 

             The missing of Mikes humor and spirit and person....his "him-ness". is tough. But I also miss his abilities. His strength. Mike was the strongest man I'd ever known.  Physically...he was pure muscle and biceps. Which made me feel super feminine which was wonderful. But there was also a practical application of his strength that is sorely missed as I struggle with luggage or grocery bags and wrestle overflowing trash cans to the curb on trash day.  This past week, I've coveted the tubs and

 bidets in our japanese accommodations! I'm SO putting that deep tub and that Toto Washlet in my home!  But, Mike "wouldve installed" it with ease. As I prowled around the cramped spaces to examine what was needed...I realized...plumbing and an outlet. No problem IF Mike was still here.  Recognizing I may need to hire both a plumber and an electrician to have this put in... dampens my enthusiasm.  But it's the  Mike "could've done it" in a heartbeat knowledge that totally drowns my excitement leaving  me feeling wilted and broken...again.
            So now I am catching back up ( had to interrupt my post to actually go on this Japan itinerary of ours!  ). Iit's now 7:00 pm on my anniversary. today for our anniversary, I' made shadow puppets that don't last, lost a hotel key that cost me $85.00 before the hotel would allow me leave...to leave (LOL) and am now enroute to another location in Japan where Amie and I will bicycle through rice paddies.  And hoping that this day will reflect promise and hope as I pedal along. Jesus has been so good to me.  Hallelujahs have been pretty broken but still offered up. And God has Ben lovingly smiling at me as He takes my loving as He lifts my bruised and battered hallelujahs off of my shoulders and into His lap.  I hear The heart whispers from the Holy Spirit that all will be well. Hiroshima is quite the testament that even devastation such as that wrought by Mushroom Clouds and Black Rain passes.  Walking along the streets of Hiroshima, you see trees and flowers and people...and laughter and smiles and joy.   

                Many have lost more than just their husband. 

        For a long time, knowing there were others in this world who've lost more than "just" their soulmate...(maybe a disaster such as Hiroshima took the lives of numerous family and friends! )... that I really shouldn't have such sorrow in missing Mike.  That My loss wasn't "worthy". it wasnt "enough" of a loss. 

          But, as the months passed,  it's easier as I've gone along this journey to recognize that it is okay that Ive been crushed by losing Mike.  No, I didn't lose half my family like those who survived Hiroshima. Or who lost several children in a tragic auto accident etc. Their losses do dwarf mine.  But that doesn't mean my pain should be limited or dwarfed to somehow equal out on the "pain pendulum" that I don't exceed the "allotted amount" for loss of only your spouse. and so many tragedies of our timetoo entitled to feel crushed.  my loss. that my pain is my pain.  Now there is a place that (cross fingers) won't leave me drowning in old memories or in "Mike would've's.".