No, It Really Is Painful

Recently someone asked me if I went to visit my husband's grave to satisfy my ego.

I am proud to say that I did not maul this person into insensibility.  To be honest, I assumed that they were so insensitive that they wouldn't even notice.

So why do I go?  I drive two hours- often difficult hours- just to get to the neighborhood.  By the time I get there, I am often exhausted.  All I want to do is become broccoli for the next several hours.  I order in, turn on the TV, and try to shut my brain DOWN.

Sometimes I'm lucky, sometimes less so.

This time I didn't even get into town until after 4:00 p.m.  I checked in to the hotel assuming that I would head for the cemetery.  What actually happened was that I couldn't get near the cemetery due to repairs from the flood of 2012.  The passage would be opened the next day.

OK, fine.  I went back to the hotel.

I ordered the best sandwich on the planet from Hugo's and tried to relax.  Very hard to do in Duluth.  I sat outside and relived memories instead of being able to create new ones.

I slept for about two hours.

The next morning I headed to the cemetery as early as I could.  I spent an hour and a half with Mike, making sure that his flowers were growing and that he had his flags and his birds and things he loved.  Then I had to get out because a funeral was coming in and I didn't want to intrude on someone else's grief.

My plan was to go back before I left.  The weather had other plans.  It was raining at a good clip when I checked out and the forecast didn't indicate that waiting would produce any better result.

I hate when I have to leave without seeing him.

I had to fight the wind getting back home.  Then I had to stop at the local grocery because I had no real food in the house- I was gone so everything got tossed before I left and I'm not good at food anyway.

I'm going back in July.  I can't afford to do this more than once a month.  I need to make a new placard for his basket this year.  The sealant that I used in 2011 has failed.

Anyone think this is about my ego?

The someone who asked me the question was appalled when I asked her what planet she came from.  She lives every day with her husband and her kids.  She has no frame of reference for loss or grief.  I have little doubt that she wonders about my sanity.  She doesn't understand how pervasive grief is.

I try very hard to understand that limited perspective.  Sometimes I am successful.

My mother died a scant year before my husband was diagnosed with terminal cancer.  My treasured aunt died just two months before, a good friend would die months later, and another friend a couple of months after that.

My husband died 13 months after his diagnosis, and my father 13 months after my husband's death.

Sometimes I feel a bit picked on.  Anyone with a calendar could plan better than this.

Grief is an abandonment of ego.  Coming to terms with crushing loss leaves you naked and sobbing and without defenses.  If you are lucky, you will be afforded the time and space to recognize what your life will look like in the face of the loss.

I've not been lucky.