Loss

The pain of death is not one easily identified with until it is personally experienced. For each individual, it is a completely different experience. No two people grieve in the same way. Every person will mourn a loss in their own unique manner.

I am not really talking about loss in general here, as in the case of a relationship, job, material possessions or worldly goods of any sort. My focus is on the permanent loss of another human being. A beloved person who had a special place within another’s heart.

In our lifetime, most people will experience the death of their parents, many will lose grandparents, a spouse, sons or daughters, aunts or uncles, cousins, brothers or sisters and friends. A few will have to say agonizing goodbyes to a life before it is even born.

Maya Angelou wrote a piece called, When I think of Death. “When I think of death, and of late the idea has come with alarming frequency, I seem at peace with the idea that a day will dawn when I will no longer be among those living in this valley of strange humors. I can accept the idea of my own demise, but I am unable to accept the death of anyone else. I find it impossible to let a friend or relative go into that country of no return. Disbelief becomes my close companion, and anger follows in its wake. I answer the heroic question ‘Death, where is thy sting?’ with ‘it is here in my heart and mind and memories.’”

This amazing person, Maya Angelou, has since passed into the great beyond and is sorely missed by many. She was an inspirational human being. Her words will still speak to the hearts of many in the future.

I also speak from my own experience here, after the agonizing loss of my husband, Russel. Grief is a world so cruel, that cruelty itself shudders at the thought. There is nothing in life to prepare us for the death of a loved one. It can be an agony that cuts so deep it feels as if the heart will be shattered forever.

As a Christian, when Russ died, I believed that his spirit had departed for heaven. All that was left behind was a physical shell. It bore a resemblance him, although he was a mere shadow of his former self. Russel had changed so much due to the ravages of terminal cancer, but the essence of him was no longer there. A body without life is peculiar to behold. I could not bear to be with my late husband’s body after he had passed away. His human form was frightening without its life-giving spirit.

Today, I wish that I had spent a few more moments with Russ after his death, and told him how I felt. Perhaps if his spirit had been close by, he might have heard me say that I loved him. Maybe he would have heard me pleading with him to come back to me, and he would have known the depth of my feelings. Russel might also have known that I was angry with him for leaving me. I will never know, because I did not linger with his lifeless body and say prolonged goodbyes.

I guess I should be grateful for the time we had while he was alive. I did have many opportunities to speak and share my feelings, which we both did. Some people never have the chance to say a fond farewell to a loved one. I should imagine that is even harder than what I had to endure.

I can say this, whatever the amount of time one has to share feelings and say goodbye, it is never enough. As time has passed, I have thought of many things I wish I had said. I have had questions which will never be answered. I am sad that I cannot remember everything we lived through as a couple, and now I no longer have anyone to reminisce with and recall the life we shared. Many times I have remembered things that are hazy at best and know with certainty that Russel would have recalled all the details. It is frustrating and sad all at the same time.

Despite all the support and advice I have received over the last couple of years, I have not coped well through this time of mourning. For the seventeen months my husband was ill, I lived in a state of extreme stress and fear and at the same time complete denial. I did not think Russ would die. It was a complete shock to me when it actually happened.

Even though the reality of his illness was clearly evident, I simply could not process it on a conscious level. My mind was numbed to the idea that life could go on without my husband in it. I lived in a limbo bubble, where I simply got through each day, doing what needed to be done. Taking care of my sick spouse to the best of my ability.

After Russ passed I slowly began to realise how drastically my life had changed. Nothing would ever be the same again. My world was broken and I did not know how to make it work. Not only did I struggle mentally to deal with the grief, but Russel’s illness and death had a huge impact on my physical health.

It has been a tough twenty months thus far, but I am moving forward, albeit like wading through thick molasses. Throughout this three-year ordeal, my go-to phrase has been ‘Onward ho!’ That is all I have been able to do. Simply get through one day at a time. Sometimes I still miss Russ dreadfully, however I have good days in-between, where I remember him fondly and without tears.

So as I think of Russ today, on what would have been his fifty-ninth birthday. I am reminded of the twenty-eight years we had as a couple. I am grateful for our two children and the wonderful memories we made over those years. Happy Birthday in heaven my beloved husband! Until we meet again.

Onward ho!

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