Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Pictures of Chris

I discovered today that I can't look at pictures of Chris without falling apart. Yeah, I'm back to that stage again. There was a time when I could look at his picture and smile just remembering the good times. Now, I tear up when I remember the good times because we lost the opportunity to make more good times.

I know that this is just because the most recent loss in my life. This grief stuff is hard, much harder than it looks, that's for sure. I find that I sleep facing his side of the bed and just hold on to his pillow, begging him to come home, to please come home. I know that he is gone. He's gone because some selfish monster took him from this world. And all that I am left with are pictures, letters and memories.

I miss him so much. That longing that I feel for him hasn't gone away at all, but I am usually able to function. But, for some reason the grief monster has attacked me and I'm so afraid that if I really look at his picture, I will break down and lose it. It's been almost 15 months, I should be getting on with my life and that is precisely what I am trying to do. But somehow, that nasty monster lurks around the corners and wallops me with sadness. I can't escape it. I'm doing much better, much better than I ever thought that I would be doing. I never thought that I would be planning on living my life without him. But, that is what I am doing, or at least trying to do as long as I can keep the grief monster at bay.


  1. Ann, dear - no "should be"s. Don't kick yourself for how you feel - it's how you feel, and it just is. I thought I was doing better; now I have an appointment with a psychiatrist Sat and am taking anti-anxiety pills on top of more Prozac. We never know how this road is going to go... and you're doing so well just by being here every day. Love you, girl.

  2. Photos are wonderful as well as painful. So I reduced the number of photos displayed, placing remaining photos in places where they don't confront me, for example, like a nook in the kitchen or a tiny one on the dresser, etc. If I want to see a photo of my dear husband I know where one is. When I choose to see a photo it is because I want to see his face. Not seeing his face on the bedside table each night and morning makes it easier also. This strategy regarding photos has worked well for me.

    Grief is like an unwavering companion who always remains by my side, not a threatening companion, rather a companion who accompanies me because of love that remains for someone who cannot be here. Looking at grief this way helps me.

    A new spring is coming; this year is a second spring he isn't here. Not easy. Looking forward instead of looking back isn't easy.

    Give yourself credit for looking forward to other springs and moving forward. You can do it.

    Virtual hugs come your way.