Wednesday, October 6, 2010

I am not Fine

Over the weekend I took a writing workshop that was great. In it was a woman whom works with Hospice. She told us in one of our discussions that she had been told recently by someone who had lost a loved one that saying Fine when asked how you are doing means feelings I never expressed. I have thought about that alot because I get asked that question a lot. Well, I am not fine or ok. I am still heartbroken and missing my husband. I still pull the covers up on his side of the bed as if he were lying there and I take his sweaters down and smell them hoping for a whiff of his scent left over from last winter. I don't take walks like I should because all of the routes are walks we took together and I do not want to walk them without him. I watch way to much tv which I did not do before just to distract myself from the fact we can't have one of our nightly conversations. Here is my question How am I supposed to be doing? My best friend and life partner is not physically here any more and it SUCKS and it HURTS. This show tomorrow night that so many have worked hard to put together and that I have tirelessly tried to promote is happening as a memorial because Paul is gone. No matter how or what I believe it doesn't get easier. I don't want people to try to comfort me. I want Paul back but since that can't happen I just want to get on with it. Tomorrow marks 3 months and I am not fine and that is ok.


  1. I get what you are saying. You may be more capable of "functioning" than initially, and feeling gratitude for so many positive things, but the heart still aches from the loss. I resonate with this kind of experience too. When there has been such an infusion of spirit throughout every aspect of your life, how can you not be impacted when it is no longer there? Hugs and seeing you not ok at this moment.

  2. Keri,

    I am strengthened by your courage to experience your feelings on so many levels, and then post your online diary. Your strength helps me grow, even though I can't stand watching you suffer the indelible sadness. Today I read an article written by Thay about resting. Basically, he used the visual of a pebble being cast into a river. The pebble does not resist sinking to the bottom of the river, and once it finds a place to rest, it is not disturbed by the water rushing around it. We must be like this when we meditate. There is no beginning and there is no end, so rest in the moment if you want, breathe, and don't allow the river to move you down stream once you find that place where you feel comfortable.