It’s hard to believe it’s been six weeks since my wife died.
It feels like she died yesterday.
SInce she’s been gone I’ve made some significant changes to my routine.
- I talk to my mom almost everyday by phone. She’s really come through for me listening to my ranting, raving and crying.
- I talk to a good friend by phone several times a week. Before Ellen got cancer, we spoke once a month but as she got worse, our calls became more frequent. I needed (need) his help and he’s stepped up.
- I’ve been biking 10 miles a day, in addition to swimming and doing my other exercise routines.
- I reconnected to an organization where I volunteer to help others. I spend at least an hour a day doing this now.
These things all keep me busy. When I am busy or pushing myself physically, I sometimes don’t think about how much I miss my wife and how awful her death was.
It feels like I am going through the motions of living.
I’m doing what needs to be done like taking care of the pets, eating, doing chores and so on. But there’s no joy in it.
Each day I wake up and do it again.
For 29 years my life was centered around taking care of my wife. I never fully really realized this until she was gone.
Caring for her gave me direction and purpose. It helped me persevere through tough times. It gave me goals to work toward.
It gave my life meaning. It make me proud. It was something I celebrated.
Now, there’s nothing.
What’s my purpose now?
- Take care of my dog and cats?
- Help the people in my organization?
- Wash the dishes and clean the house?
- Exercise more?
I have good times when I am not sad. I have bad times where I am so sad I collapse. Sometimes I have them in the same hour. Other times I can go a full day in either direction.
Some days I am so busy that I just go-go-go until I pass out in bed at the end of the day. Those are my best days because I have no time to think or feel.
Other days I am overcome by wave after wave of sadness so intense it makes me curl up in a fetal position and struggle to breathe.
People ask me how I am doing.
I’m doing. I’m alive. And my wife is not.
When I think of her, it makes me sad.
And I think of her nearly every minute of every day.