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Like anyone, Mark and I had a special place that we visited every summer for a few days when we could afford it.  We went less often in recent years due to his increasingly fragile health.  Poor weather forecasts prevented our trip in 2016 because of predicted heavy rain all that week, which really crushed me.  And then our lives went sideways at the end of November 2016.  Going alone last summer was unthinkable (not to mention unaffordable).

Now, however, in about one week, I will probably be going there, with the idea of taking Mark's ashes and scattering them.  I don't know where exactly... maybe around the roots of the maple tree that a relative of his planted last autumn, in his memory.  I have photos of it.  I'd like to see it in person.  Part of me is looking forward to going, because the place renews my spirit, but part of me is dreading it because I am, frankly, afraid of the intensity of my emotions if I go through with it.  Just envisioning myself traveling there, reaching the area, and seeing certain places and people but without Mark, has me emotional enough right now before I actually go, that I wonder if I am moving too fast.  The emotional soup includes sadness, nostalgia, regret, and some anxiety, but also anticipation for a retreat in a natural environment that has many pleasant memories.  I took many photographs and wrote about the place over the years, so it has a special significance.

I have a habit of overthinking anything, and this could be another example.  No one is requiring me to take this trip.  I can back out if I decide to.  I owe no explanations to anyone if I change my plans.  But I know it's going to just open up the wounds all over again.  Is that healthy, or counterproductive?  I suppose this, like everything about this grief journey, is different for everyone.  So I went through the archives to see if it's been addressed here, but it just makes me overthink even more, so I stopped that.

How do you know when you're ready for this step?  Will I regret doing this, or regret not doing this?   Not to mention his 62nd birthday is coming up in 3 weeks.  :(

The prospect of scattering ashes has scattered ME, it seems, and this right on the heels of my grandmother's passing 2 weeks ago.  Although I knew she was ready to go and she was able to stay at home through the end of her life, the funeral was surreal.  I felt out of place and isolated and like a stranger.  Everyone (and I mean everyone) in my family is married or paired up in some way, with kids and the whole nine yards.  Then there's awkward, embarrassing ol' me, sticking out like a sore thumb, reminding everyone of what they'd rather not dwell on.

I guess it's a good thing my counseling session is tomorrow afternoon.  Thanks for reading my rambling.

 

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Kieron, I totally feel your pain and anguish. I'm certainly not an expert in this grief crap, but I do have my thoughts and opinions. This grief that all of us here share is a sign and a tribute to the strong love we shared with our mates. It's the ugly side of it for sure. But we wouldn't be experiencing it if the love we felt---and still feel---wasn't as intense as the emotion this grief dredges up.

Maybe I'm masochistic, for all I know. My wife and I shared a bit more than 41 years together. That ended when I made the decision to turn the ventilator off, and end her misery and suffering on 1/1/2016. She is with the Lord now, patiently waiting for me to join her---for eternity. The thought of that sustains me now. I find it to be cathartic somehow to allow myself to think about and remember the 41 years of memories. It brings on some strong emotions at times, but it also brings on some happy thoughts at the same time. Happy thoughts that I wouldn't have if I hadn't "gone there". I retired from truck driving on 1/1/2011 when it became obvious that my wife needed a full time caregiver. That meant that my social security retirement took a huge hit. We got along okay while my wife was alive and receiving hers also. But I live a pretty meager lifestyle now that I'm getting by on only mine now. In spite of my financial situation now, I don't regret retiring when I did. My wife needed me when she did, finances be damned. If I had it to do again---knowing what I know now---I wouldn't do it any different.

From my "for what it's worth" department I'm inclined to encourage you to go and visit that special place that you and Mark enjoyed together. Yes, it will most likely be emotional. But maybe---just maybe---you will return home with some good emotion that you will only be able to feel by going there. Treasure those good thoughts and allow yourself to enjoy them. Somehow it's all part of the healing process. 

One foot in front of the other...

Darrel

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I'm glad you have your counseling session coming, but don't let yourself be talked into doing something if you don't feel ready for it.  Not knowing your counselor, I wanted to add that.

Scattering the ashes is big, do it when you're ready.  It's okay to feel emotion, even if it's intense, allowing ourselves to feel it is part of our processing.

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Like Kay said, scattering their ashes is a big deal and is intense. Three months after my Dale passed, I had the opportunity to go to "our" special place that we both loved so much and I was like you, not sure I could handle the emotions of it all, but I went.  I did put part of his ashes in a special place on the property and now I know he is where he loved so much and we had some great memories.  Yes, it was very emotional and full of pain,  especially since it was during the week of our wedding anniversary, but so worth it.  I'm so glad that I did go because I haven't been able to get back there since but I at least know he is where we had such good and loving memories.  

Just thought I would share my experience with this and I know everyone is different and you need to do what feels right for you.  Whatever you decide to do is ok, don't let anyone pressure you, you need to move at your own pace.  Hugs

 

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Thanks Darrel, I didn't take it in that way at all.  I suspect you're right about it being part of the healing process.  I will think about it some more in the days before I'm due to leave.  Maybe I will, maybe I won't.  I guess there's no due date...

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Darrel, I didn't mean you either, but with her going to a counselor I wanted to make sure she didn't let the counselor pressure her, you never know. 

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4 hours ago, kayc said:

Darrel, I didn't mean you either, but with her going to a counselor I wanted to make sure she didn't let the counselor pressure her, you never know. 

Thanks, kay, she was quite professional as always.  Usually the only one pressuring me is me.  😏🚹

 

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Well, it's done.

Being me, I dreaded the whole thing but once taking action, it was easier than I expected.   There was an interesting change of the weather patterns.  Earlier in the day, it had been windy, with choppy waves, rain and clouds, which all stopped when I arrived, and it became sunny, pleasant and calm, a picture-perfect autumn day.  That lasted my entire visit, then the wind started to rise and the water became green and choppy again as I packed up and departed.  Hmm!   Anyway, I was joined by the relatives who had planted a tree in his honor, and as we stood nearby talking, a little orange butterfly (not a Monarch but something else) briefly paused on the mound of mulch surrounding this sugar maple.  It stayed just briefly before flitting off, so a picture was impossible. I can't be 100% sure, but after coming home and doing some research, I can only conclude it was probably Polygonia interrogationis, also known as... Question Mark.  :)  I find that strangely meaningful, both for the name and because I have so many, many questions.

https://www.insectidentification.org/insect-description.asp?identification=Question-Mark-Butterfly

I wish I could say I felt lighter in spirit.  Maybe that will come.  Meanwhile, I try to focus on the following passage by Rainer Maria Rilke (December 4, 1875–December 29, 1926), in "Letters to a Young Poet," written in 1903:

I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart

and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue.

Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them.

And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

 

Thanks for reading.

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I think all we can do is live the questions.  It’s all we are left with.  Why them?  Why us?  Why so soon?  Why so sudden or hellishly drug out?  It’s all one big why.  We’ll never know the answers and that is what I feel adds to the grief.  Cool seeing a butterfly.  I don’t take those kinda things as signs, but as nice coincidences during tough times.  Planting a tree was a cool thing to do too.  I added another candle to our significant ones that are lit every night for him.  Sad the amount of them keeps growing, but the glow helps.  🦋🦋🦋

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13 hours ago, Gwenivere said:

I think all we can do is live the questions.

So true!  It seems the more I know, the more questions I have!

I take as signs what I need them to be.  ;)  Just a difference in how we perceive and handle things, I guess.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Today would be Mark's 62nd birthday.  I've been sad, had a tear or two, and the day is young, yet.   But compared to a year ago today, I feel reflective and wistful, but not torn up inside.  Interesting.  I suppose that feeling will return off and on...

🦋

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On 9/23/2018 at 11:37 AM, Kieron said:

Today would be Mark's 62nd birthday.  I've been sad, had a tear or two, and the day is young, yet.   But compared to a year ago today, I feel reflective and wistful, but not torn up inside.  Interesting.  I suppose that feeling will return off and on...

🦋

I just had my 2nd birthday in this new life. No card with Susan's cute 🐼 sketches and expressions of love, no little present, no fruit tart with a candle...but yes, as you say, not as torn up and crying as I was for #1

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  • 2 weeks later...

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