Thursday, September 01, 2022

Grief


Close to nine months today since the biggest disaster of my life struck. I lost my reason to live. Getting out of bed was a struggle. I couldn't deal with my own grief, let alone my toddler's. I went through rage, so much rage. Against the world, against God, against my own husband for just abandoning me at 34. 

I'm not sure, if i can call myself a "Grief Survivor", just yet. But l learnt soon enough, wallowing in self pity would get me nowhere. I had a son to raise and a full life to lead.

So I got out of bed, wiped my tears away, went through the motions of grief, stood on my mother's balcony for hours, until I felt nothing but wonder and awe for mother nature.

"Life goes on", said a fellow widow 7 months ago and I couldn't agree more. Just because my world came crashing down, doesn't mean happiness doesn't exist. People move on, very quickly. 

Once the initial condolence messages stopped flowing in, I saw them partying, getting married, holidaying and sending me invites for their happy occassions. It's almost like they forgot I'm a new widow. Perhaps it's time for me to forget I'm a new widow. 

I don't feel my late husband anymore. He is truly gone. Or he has let me go. Quite understandable. Ours worlds are different. The only common thread being our son, who is also slowly forgetting his father, with each passing day. It's probably for the best. 

During those initial days, people called me "brave", it was hilarious. I was a weepy, screechy mess! How is that "being brave" and "being strong"?!

Being a management consultant's wife for eight years, the one thing that comes to me like second skin, is living alone, making decisions alone and never being dependent on anyone, especially my husband. His solution for every life problem of mine was, "Figure it out", because he had no time or interest to immerse himself in life. His work truly consumed him. 

This is the year I make peace with his death and his bad decisions, because I played no part in either. He was a stubborn, pig headed man who believed he was always right. He travelled through the week, he slept after 2am on most days and he didn't shut off from work, even on the weekends.

He had a beautiful house, a gorgeous son and a devoted wife. You would assume, a man like that would prioritise his personal life and health over a murderous job and people pleasing (both personally and professionally).

His death is an example of someone who failed miserably in life. It doesn't matter that you were an IITian and a Partner in BCG. What matters is that you left behind a 34 year old wife and a 2.11 year old son. I can't forgive you. But I am letting you go, the best way I can. 

Rest in peace. I am enough for our son. I am enough for me. I am enough for my life. I am well and truly, more than enough!

Goodbye poopie. 

1 comment:

Ruth said...

Praying for you dear - I know it may be what everyone says, but I mean it. As humans, we people sometimes are not sure how to handle grief, nor how to offer comfort and consolation. Even though our intentions are good, at times our words/gestures may come out sounding awkward. So I pray and ask our Creator to comfort you in the best possible way and give you His divine wisdom and strength to carry on. Ruth Ma'am