Bewildered

This morning I woke up baffled, perplexed, confused, bewildered about how I got here.  For a moment this morning I 'saw' Chris, laying in the bathtub and briefly thought about what I would tell him about my experience that morning.  Of course, I realize at the same time that we will never have that conversation and truly that is frustrating.  Part of me feels like I could come to terms with what happened easier if I just knew what his journey to the other side entailed.  I'm sure, in reality, this isn't true.  Today, however, I am longing for that one last moment, one last conversation, one last breath that we could take together before the goodbye is forever.

Journey

At every point in the human journey we find that we have to let go in order to move forward; and letting go means dying a little.  In the process we are being created anew, awakened afresh to the source of our being.  Kathleen R. Fischer

I've been reading this book for the past two months called Healing After Loss: Daily Meditations For Working Through Grief.  I love it because the chapters are succinct and the ideas are realistic.  I don't think I have encountered any major revelations via my reading of this book, however, I have come across many realistic reminders about my grief and how to redefine my world in relationship to it.

Moving forward is what is on my mind but I am confused about what this looks like, how to go about it and what it means I am leaving behind.

As the waters continue to calm as of recent days, I am alarmingly aware of my last image of Chris.  I can't shake it...  I suppose I should say it's not my last image, it's the image from when I first opened the bathroom door.  The puzzling thing about that image is that I see it as if the sliding glass door to the bathtub were already open however I am almost certain it wasn't.  This unsure memory makes me wonder, did he open the door, was the door really closed when I walked in?  It annoys me that I cannot piece together chronologically the events of that morning. At this moment I am trying to convince myself that truly it doesn't matter.  However, a part of me believes if I could piece it together, I could go back and find that moment I could stop the forward progression of this fate.  Of course realistically, I know it doesn't matter and I cannot.

This life is now about letting go, reevaluating myself and determining where my new journey will take me and my kids.  All of these are frightening because I suppose I am terrified that I will take the wrong step or that the path I choose will injure us further. 

I feel like the place I am in this journey is strangely silent.  My words seem to escape me while I am wrought with introspection. 

Sidenotes....

Totally love all of you who came to my defense.  I suppose I should have prefaced my entry with a few facts.  I am only bluntly honest all the time with a handful of people and though I expose my raw emotions here and to friends and family at large, I am a person who filters quite frequently based on past response to my situation, their connection to me, Chris or the kids as well their current life situation.  I know, I shouldn't be but I really do put that much thought into my conversations now not to mention despite the blog, I am a private person and there are some parts of this journey I want to divulge to very few because it feels like continually walking around naked with all your flaws exposed.  I know that neither Chris' death nor my journey through healing is a flaw but it's the best comparison I could think of...me walking around showing my post-baby stretch marks in a bikini at the mall. 

Having said that, this person I am brutally honest with...and though I wouldn't say I am an overall cynical person I think that Heather's response to my post hit it right on the head.  Being cynical is reality and in the end, it helps me move through this and be pleasantly surprised when things are going well or when they go better than planned however it is a safety feature in my life right now.  

I appreciate all of you diving in with love though!  It's that support that helps me get out of bed and put one foot in front of the other.  The reality is that I called myself out first on being cynical more out of fear that I may spend the rest of my life with this attitude unless I decide to be proactive about it all.

World-Weariness

cyn·i·cal  (sn-kl)

adj.

1. Believing or showing the belief that people are motivated chiefly by base or selfish concerns; skeptical of the motives of others: a cynical dismissal of the politician's promise to reform the campaign finance system.

2. Selfishly or callously calculating: showed a cynical disregard for the safety of his troops in his efforts to advance his reputation.

3. Negative or pessimistic, as from world-weariness: a cynical view of the average voter's intelligence.

4. Expressing jaded or scornful skepticism or negativity: cynical laughter.

A few days ago someone boldly pointed out that I have a very cynical attitude.  Now, don't get me wrong, I fully admit I do but I also think I do with justified reason.  Basically, it's a defense mechanism.  I didn't at all take offense to this comment, but it did make me realize how I perhaps am vocalizing it excessively.  

Here's the lowdown...my husband died.  Are you shocked?  Ok, not fair, that was sarcasm, also a defense mechanism.

Really, I have always played these mind games I call 'worst case scenario' with myself.  For example, when Maya was a newborn my milk supply was low and she wasn't gaining weight.  At two weeks old she was still an ounce below her birth weight.  I was horrified and convinced she was going to die despite the fact the pediatrician told us to supplement with formula and all would be well.  Of course, instead I did start supplementing but laid her on my chest that afternoon after her first bottle, thinking that I would snuggle her in case she died.  So, this scenario obviously didn't happen as my 'worst case scenario' since she is a very healthy almost 4 year old in fact she started gaining so fast it startled me.  But, I am sure you can totally see where I am going with this.

Chris and I often had 'worst case scenario' discussions though I am fairly certain they were from my persuasion.  The topics varied from house fires to cancer to divorce.  Never, ever, did the discussion broach young, tragic death.  Always the death scenarios were far into the future.  Even in the divorce discussions it was more about the statistic and who would divorce that we know and not actually about us.  Because, you know, that sort of thing doesn't happen to us. (Don't worry, we were not talking about YOU.)

And then it happened, something worse...

I remember questioning whether this could even be real because I had never even imagined such a heinous ending to our marriage, our life, Chris' existence.  

Cynical?  Yes, right now I am but because of definition #4...negative or pessimistic because of world-weariness.  The world caught me off guard and took me to a place even my most negative thoughts had never taken me and I am feeling weary that it will take me there again thus I must be prepared this time. 

In the end, it's just an excuse I suppose.  I don't want to be cynical but it seems like the flip side to that coin right now is that the world owes me some goodness, which it doesn't so why go through life expecting good things to be handed to you on a silver platter.  At the same time, I don't want to expect the worse either...

Beginning today, I am warding off cynicism.