I had another very productive day today. I started early with my therapy appointment, then took a shower, put on makeup, took Dyl to therapy, got my car washed, did a load of laundry, started chipping away at cleaning my closet, etc.
I talked to my therapist about the fact that I seem to be doing pretty well right now and I expected her to say that it will be short-lived and I should expect the grief to return. But she didn’t say that. Instead, she said that my grieving process might not be as intense as I expected because J and I loved each other so much.
I guess that sort of makes sense. I didn’t feel like we had a lot of unfinished business (which is not to say I was ready for him to die; I don’t think I ever would have been ready for that and I still greatly miss him.)
I had long before apologized for the things I needed to and he had forgiven me. And he had done the same with me.
My mom had an interesting take on my new-found writing success. Instead of it being that something about my marriage blocked my creativity, she thought that going through the end of his life gave me a new passion. She saw it as one of the gifts that he gave me, which if nothing else is a nice way to think about it.
And very interestingly, all three of the kids have separately told me that of the parent to be “stuck” with, they don’t in any way believe that I’m lesser. That honestly surprises me a lot, just because I feel like I’m so much worse than J was.
But apparently for them it all comes down to my commitment to personal growth and my willingness to acknowledge their mental health as well. Admittedly, those were definitely not J’s strong suits. He talked to me pretty openly but was never really able to do so with the kids.
And I think that if the shoe were placed on the other foot and he was the one left widowed, he probably would not be opening up to them about his feelings and wouldn’t encourage them to share their own.
That all honestly makes my grief feel more complicated, though. I do have big dreams for my future and I believe in myself. I have the ability to start my life over, with a clean slate and good credit.
But that also makes me feel even more strongly that J ultimately sacrificed his whole life for me. On the one hand, I’m aware and mindful of what a profound gift he gave me, and I will not waste it.
But on the other hand, holy shit, is that a heavy responsibility to carry. If he can somehow see me now, he’d be happy with the things I’m doing. He would want me to be happy and thriving. But I still can’t stop feeling guilty anyway.
And honestly, I would give it all up in a second if it meant that I could have him back.