November 14th: I'm sick of the specter of Death.
Holland and I are both living with death triggers - his are longer than mine, but they are still there; he's been grieving death losses for at least two decades … could be longer, as his nephew is in his mid-20's now. My death triggers started the Fall of 2018 - and for a while, after Holland came into my life, they subsided while I basked in newfound happiness.
But that happiness has been shattered; my life is a mess again … and the triggers have started firing fresh rounds.
Holland has shared his grief losses with me: Steve (brother, dead), one of his pastors, Ruth (mother, dead), Tammy (sister, dead), his father (dead), Rick (brother, dead) - as well as people that are slowly dying, which is a whole other level of grief: Lana dying (SIL), Mark dying (brother), and one of his pals, Cal dying (supposedly). There have been several relative deaths too, but these are the ones closest to his heart that he misses the most.
I've only felt three serious grief losses: Tim, my cousin; we were close, more like siblings: Doug, an old boyfriend; who was also a lifelong friend … and Bob, my first husband; the love of my life until Holland came into my life 2 years ago.
I don't know what season(s) Holland's grief losses happened, but I do know that he still grieves. Deeply.
I have mentioned before that Holland has worked, and lived, in pretty much every State across the USA; and as I've learned - so have the people mentioned above. Every State we travel through has a life story connected to it … and Holland is right back in that moment in time, reliving the story; and the loss.
All of my grief losses happened in the Fall and Winter months.
These months are always hard ones for me to get through. Tim died 49 years ago. Doug died 27 years ago … and Bob passed into Glory almost 5 years ago (December 14th, will be the 5 year mark).
It took me y.e.a.r.s. to get past the pain of losing Bob.
By the time Holland became a permanent fixture in my life (10 months ago), I was settling into my Solo Lobo life - the tears weren't choking me anymore and I could breathe without my chest squeezing at the thought of life without Bob; I was still grieving the loss … but on a different level: I was healing. I was moving forward without my knees buckling. I was allowing old and new friends into my small inner circle. I was making it a point to eat in a sit-down restaurant one day, every week - forcing myself to feel comfortable with the vacant seat across from me. I was Daytripping far and wide, broadening my comfort zone. I was building a Solo Lobo life.
I grieved hard for the first three years of widowhood.
Then, in the Fall of 2022, I surprised myself by enjoying newfound happiness and love, with Holland. We'd know each other for about 18 months at this point, so a quick dating cycle and subsequent remarriage for both of us (Holland had been divorced for decades) seemed the natural course of action - it didn't seem that quick. We both felt we had known each other all our lives. We were happy. We were in love. We were building a Life together.
But Grief is a tricky imp: he doesn't always show himself to play tormenting games with our limping emotions … but all those feelings are still there; they may not be as intense as there used to be (thank The Lord!), but they lie just a hair's breath beneath the surface - waiting to spring with a stinging vengeance when triggered.
They blossom anew, and are felt just as intensely as the day they came into our lives to stay as reminders of a face and a love we'll never enjoy seeing or feeling again.
This week has been a very hard one.
I don't know what Holland is going through because he doesn't talk with me - he will talk at me, but he doesn't talk with me: he doesn't share anything with me unless it's grief related. He will talk with Mark, Lana, and Cal for hours about anything and everything … but he doesn't talk with me about anything and everything - unless it's to mention to me some bitching he's done with Lana, and by then he's been so hyped up by the shared bitching, that he's in fight mode: snappiness between us is the usual fallout. He doesn't realize that, doesn't want to hear that; and I've given up hoping the situation will change. Before and after his conversations with Mark, he's feeling guilty for being here with me - instead of back in WA; he's afraid Mark will die before he gets to spend face-time with him, again. Cal is a different story altogether, and any mention of that small-minded little man is sure fire way to verbal warfare. Cal is domineering, and intrusive, and I really do not understand why Holland considers him a "friend": since Day One of our marriage, Cal has been in our business, blowing Holland's phone up with calls, texts, and missed messages … and now he's started to harass my phone with texts and missed calls: I do not like him. At all.
These three people are what the arguments are mainly about; and they are destroying US.
Presently, Holland has separated himself from me: we occupy the same living space … but we are world's apart.
Holland is caught up in the grief surrounding afore mentioned people.
I am trying to come to terms with the loss of Holland - he's still my husband, but he has removed himself from my small inner circle: this is a grief I am not familiar with, and I'm not quite sure what to do with it. The constant uncertainty keeps me on a constant emotional roller coaster - constantly feeling overwhelmed.
When I am stressed, I withdraw.
I basically shut down: and a Wall goes up.
However, Life continues marching forward, and I have to engage in life again, at some point. Engaging means letting the Wall down … when the Wall come down, even the barest fraction, pent up tears are released; and the tears trigger dormant grief.
It is the middle of November.
The middle of November harbors painful memories for me.
For a brief time last November, there were no tears.
This November, there are tears aplenty. The unexpected grief loss shock of being told by Holland that he "needs a break" from our 10-month marriage (to his way of thinking, his "obligations" to the Past, trump any presence I thought I had in his Present, and the Future he promised me), has triggered painful memories of doctors in 2018, telling me Bob was dying. The circumstances and situations are vastly different of course, but the gut wrench is the same intensity.
I have lost … and am losing … each husband to things that have gotten out of control.
Death is death, and grief is grief - no matter the circumstances and situation.
The raw grief of losing two husbands in the same month, in such a short period of time; is how I found myself lying in bed, alone, feeling a huge knot form in my stomach and crying my heart and soul out at 2 A.M. this morning … and drinking coffee at the dining table, at 4 A.M.; eventually getting my hands busy with designing and crafting another Angel Baby Blanket.
Alvin Lee - 'Blues Has Got A Hold On Me' song: (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sUa-Ro4e0Ts)
Beautiful sunrise, this morning.
So pretty …
Pink clouds means a a pleasant start to the Day; that's an encouraging thought.
Breakfast; half grapefruit & half orange … very sweet, less acidic than pure grapefruits.
MOD Angel Baby Blanket; started A.M.
I understand that working on Angel Baby Blankets is a grief-related activity, but it is an activity that has a productive purpose: it is busy activity that will relax me and calm my thoughts - and it is an activity that will give some solace to hurting parents.
I'm trying to be positive.
I'm trying to be hopeful.
I'm trying like hell to understand the grief cycle he's caught up, in.
But I don't think I can be supportive with his destructive behavior: it's hurtful to him, and it's definitely hurtful to me.
My heart hurts.
My head aches.
My eyes burn.
And I'm finding it hard to breathe easy.
What is happening here in Yuma, between Holland and I, is not a peace generating thing; he has stirred up chaos and heartache. He has tripped grief triggers for me, that will be hard to tame, again.
I don't know how long Holland will allow Death and Grief to rule his life: I don't know how he can justify willingly hurting me to satisfy his need to please himself. I don't know how he can continue deluding himself that he is a "good Christian man" when he is acting like a worldly heel - he is not standing by me, treating me well, or loving me as "Christ loves His Own".
But, for myself, I want to LIVE a full Life while I am still breathing; I am not going to entertain (or whip into an emotional firestorm) Grief.
I'm going to watch sunrises and sunsets. I'm going to continue exploring, and having fun adventures. I'm going to savor tasty delights. I'm going to enjoy friendships, and have conversations that are not one-sided. I'm going to paint my nails in bold and bright colors.
I'm going to consciously tamp down the grief triggers so they are once again manageable memories instead of searing inferno's that suck the oxygen out of the room.
ABB finished 9 P.M. 15 in x 15 in.
And I'm going to continue trusting Elohim for the love He promised me.
I'm sick of the specter of Death.
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