I told my doctor 2 (or 3) weeks ago that I was falling apart. I said this because the night before I had a fleeting thought that if I believed that there was a guarantee that I’d be with Michael I’d seriously think about ending it now.

Then a few days later I thought about the fact that I had that very morbid thought and that the person that Michael fell in love would never have that thought. The person Michael fell in love with was not clingy, whiny, needy, weak or desperate. This person would not be very attractive to him. That’s not who I am and not who he fell in love with. And besides, his first words would be, “What about the kids?” He would be disappointed in me and he never ever was disappointed in me. And I wouldn’t want to disappoint him for all of eternity, that’s for sure. đŸ™‚

I don’t know what happened after that. It’s as if my brain snapped back into my head. And I decided that I wasn’t falling apart. And I wasn’t going to fall apart and there is no reason to fall apart. Michael’s been gone 4 months but I’ve been grieving forcefully for 15 months. That’s a long time to feel awful every single day.

I have great kids, adorable grandkids, wonderful friends and a lot of people who depend on GPYP to get through things.

And I don’t know what happened at that point. But something happened. It’s like I saw the bottom and it’s not pretty and I have to work harder on getting up to the top.

It’s been quite a few days since I cried and last night I went through the office and put some of Michael’s things away so that I can make decisions about them later. I found an old tie bag with a bunch of wheatback pennies in it and I asked Gina if she wanted it. She did. She said “He had the coolest stuff.” And I smiled. All the “stuff” that is making me crazy…yes some of it is very cool and I should not be quick to make decisions about it.

I thought very seriously if I am now suppressing my grief. I don’t think I am. I think I have been allowing my grief its outlet this whole time. And while I’m sure the middle phase of grief is not done yet, I’m pretty sure that I can feel myself moving toward something instead of being suffocated by a feeling of loss.

When I first met Michael, he said “I just want to be happy.” and he truly did. Those were not just words. He didn’t want hassle, drama or craziness. We had our life’s challenges and problems along the way, but we met them together. And for the rest of his life, even in his illness, Michael’s goal was to be happy. And he walked that talk.

He saw me as a partner in achieving that. Someone who would let him be who he is. Yes there were some wifely honey-do lists but there was a lot of love and caring and happiness.

And I don’t think Michael wanted that just for himself. He wanted that for all of us.

To put on a happy face during his illness and after his death would have been wrong….for me, for my grief process…but I think it’s time to start to work back toward…well, if not “happy” at least start to get out from under the oppression of grief.

Yes, I think it’s time.