Life was so beautiful, I felt like I’d been given  such a gift, my heart overflowed with absolute joy, with love. Just looking at him brought me the most intense pleasure and brought my deepest feelings of love to the surface. I felt so blessed, so happy.  Within a week I could feel his fear. I believe it was fear over what I’d expect, now knowing he loved me. I just wanted to bask in his love, to share my heart and soul with him and treasure every single second of our life.

Sixteen days after telling me he loved me, he abruptly ended our relationship. I was devestated, shocked and stunned. We’d been through so much in fourteen months. We’d  faced much together; a tremendous family crisis, health issues, his son’s hospitalizations. There had been much good. There had been many sweet, tender, exquisite moments and some really dark, painful, challenging moments. His fears and concerns had surfaced over and over in the fourteen months,  making him break away for several days at a time, deciding if he wanted to be a part of my life. I’d had more than enough of the indecision. I thought at last with his admission of loving me, we had  moved beyond the fears, beyond the uncertainty. I thought we were on our way to a life together. In no way did I ever imagine he would freak out in fear and end our relationship.

He called me on the phone, I could tell you exactly what I was doing, where I was standing, when he told me he’d decided to end it. He’d told me a few days before he was uncertain and wanted time to think about us. All of this after he told me he loved me and couldn’t imagine his life without me. I was shattered, it was a miracle I could pull myself out of bed everyday and function. I loved him so deeply, so completely. It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to open my heart so completely. To have it end and to end in such a fashion was shattering.

We sat down a couple days later and talked.  He told me his reasons, which I learned later were lies. I hate to say that, because even today I think this man is a good man and great father. He told me he wanted to end it because he didn’t want to be in a relationship, he wanted to be alone and spend more time with his kids. It was devestating, yet I believed him. I could see his fear. I didn’t understand any of it. The entire time we’d shared our lives I’d bent over backwards to be inclusive to his two wonderful children, who I came to love and to his mother who became my friend.

Being a step child myself, I understood completely that his children  needed to have time alone with him and time to just be dad and son or dad and daughter. I knew how much I’d needed that in my own life with my father after he remarried and I worked  hard to make certain Rob  had the time alone to spend with his kids, without my presence.

If anyone had asked me to take bets on what happened next I wouldn’t have called any of it in a million years. Of course knowing this man as I did, maybe I should have realized by his fly by the seat of his pants way of living and spur of the moment decisions that he was one to do things no one could ever expect.

Within 35 days of ending our relationship he met someone, on Mother’s Day weekend. Fabulous for me, since my mom’s birthday and mother’ day are all on the same weekend and are a painful reminder of her passing. When he called me and told me he wanted to see me the Monday after Mother’s Day I wasn’t exactly in the most receptive mood to talk to him given the fact he hadn’t bothered to text or call me to say he gave a crap about the fact that it was a rough weekend for me. When we met and talked he told me about the woman he’d met and that he was going to start dating her. I felt like I’d been blindsided. What about the fact that he wanted to be alone? What about the fact he wanted more time with his kids? What about the fact he’d told me he loved me just weeks ago? I wanted to rip his face off. Miss Kindness and gentleness lost it, I called him every awful thing that came to my mind. It wasn’t one of my finest moments. So the reality wasn’t that he left me to be alone and spend more time with his kids. The reality was something quite different.

Part One of a series on Healing With Time.

Life was so beautiful, I felt like I’d been given  such a gift, my heart overflowed with absolute joy, with love. Just looking at him brought me the most intense pleasure and brought my deepest feelings of love to the surface. I felt so blessed, so happy.  Within a week I could feel his fear. I believe it was fear over what I’d expect, now knowing he loved me. I just wanted to bask in his love, to share my heart and soul with him and treasure every single second of our life.

Sixteen days after telling me he loved me, he abruptly ended our relationship. I was devestated, shocked and stunned. We’d been through so much in fourteen months. We’d  faced much together; a tremendous family crisis, health issues, his son’s hospitalizations. There had been much good. There had been many sweet, tender, exquisite moments and some really dark, painful, challenging moments. His fears and concerns had surfaced over and over in the fourteen months,  making him break away for several days at a time, deciding if he wanted to be a part of my life. I’d had more than enough of the indecision. I thought at last with his admission of loving me, we had  moved beyond the fears, beyond the uncertainty. I thought we were on our way to a life together. In no way did I ever imagine he would freak out in fear and end our relationship.

He called me on the phone, I could tell you exactly what I was doing, where I was standing, when he told me he’d decided to end it. He’d told me a few days before he was uncertain and wanted time to think about us. All of this after he told me he loved me and couldn’t imagine his life without me. I was shattered, it was a miracle I could pull myself out of bed everyday and function. I loved him so deeply, so completely. It had been a long time since I’d allowed myself to open my heart so completely. To have it end and to end in such a fashion was shattering.

We sat down a couple days later and talked.  He told me his reasons, which I learned later were lies. I hate to say that, because even today I think this man is a good man and great father. He told me he wanted to end it because he didn’t want to be in a relationship, he wanted to be alone and spend more time with his kids. It was devestating, yet I believed him. I could see his fear. I didn’t understand any of it. The entire time we’d shared our lives I’d bent over backwards to be inclusive to his two wonderful children, who I came to love and to his mother who became my friend.

Being a step child myself, I understood completely that his children  needed to have time alone with him and time to just be dad and son or dad and daughter. I knew how much I’d needed that in my own life with my father after he remarried and I worked  hard to make certain Rob  had the time alone to spend with his kids, without my presence.

If anyone had asked me to take bets on what happened next I wouldn’t have called any of it in a million years. Of course knowing this man as I did, maybe I should have realized by his fly by the seat of his pants way of living and spur of the moment decisions that he was one to do things no one could ever expect.

Within 35 days of ending our relationship he met someone, on Mother’s Day weekend. Fabulous for me, since my mom’s birthday and mother’ day are all on the same weekend and are a painful reminder of her passing. When he called me and told me he wanted to see me the Monday after Mother’s Day I wasn’t exactly in the most receptive mood to talk to him given the fact he hadn’t bothered to text or call me to say he gave a crap about the fact that it was a rough weekend for me. When we met and talked he told me about the woman he’d met and that he was going to start dating her. I felt like I’d been blindsided. What about the fact that he wanted to be alone? What about the fact he wanted more time with his kids? What about the fact he’d told me he loved me just weeks ago? I wanted to rip his face off. Miss Kindness and gentleness lost it, I called him every awful thing that came to my mind. It wasn’t one of my finest moments. So the reality wasn’t that he left me to be alone and spend more time with his kids. The reality was something quite different.

Part One of a series on Healing With Time.

“If you want to be loved, be loving.”

Dr. Norris Chumley

The beginning of freedom from the pain-body lies first of all in the realization that you have a pain body. Then, more important, in your ability to stay present enough, alert enough, to notice the pain-body in yourself as a heavy influx of negative emotion when it becomes active.

This is such an amazing book, well worth the read.

Dad and I before I was three years old.

As I watched My Sister’s Keeper I was touched by the raw pain of Kate’s own struggle to make sense of the changes her family faced through her illness and the devestation  of her loss as they watched her die. At one point in the movie Kate’s sister asked the judge how it felt when her daughter died. I could answer immediately, having faced the loss of my daughter and my parents as well as others near and dear to me in the last decade.

For me their loss feels like life has ended. It feels like all the blood has drained from my heart; I’m standing, breathing, yet feel empty and dead. It feels like my life is over.

I was touched by the honesty of what this family faced and how they each handled it so differently, yet in the end when Kate passed they found a way to honor her memory with a yearly family vacation to a place she loved; the wide open spaces of Montana.  For each of us how we bear our grief and find our way through our pain differs. Yet honestly no matter who we are, what we do for a living or where we live we each feel the depth of our losses deep in our soul. No matter if we reach out or go within we must take steps, baby steps forward toward our healing.

Yes, our life as we knew it is over; the life we desired blown to bits and we’re left to take one tiny step at a time into a future  we really don’t understand or care for. Our loss is deep and lasting. With time and effort our healing will begin. I heard Nate Burkus say on Oprah recently that after his partners death he didn’t want to do much of anything for four months, that he was living but felt dead. He often thought, “what’s the point of it all.” He would often stay in bed grieving.

It’s true, in the depth of our loss many of us have those times , I certainly had them. I had days when dying felt easier than living, when my mother’s loss felt like the end of my life. How do we move beyond the loss that devestates us? We take small steps. We find support whether it be a therapist, our family or friends or a healthy combination of all three. Maybe we talk to a minister or we take comfort in silent prayer. The important thing is to take a step. Each small step will lead to a bigger step when we’re ready, until we reach a place where we can take a breath again without feeling pain.

With many small steps we will reach a day when we wake up and feel a smile cross our face; when for so long there was nothing to smile about. There is no magic that will heal us. Somehow, with time after living in our pain we realize we can honor the memory and love of the one’s we’ve lost better by living joyfully. As many, myself included can attest, when a loved one is dying they usually express their desire for us to live fully. They want our happiness. They don’t want us living daily in pain or living empty lives, wishing for them. For me the best way to honor my loved ones is to touch other lives and show people through my example that there’s a way through the pain and loss.

My life looks different than I expected. I’m actually laughing as I write that statement. It’s as if a bulldozer destroyed my life and one block at a time, through a sea of tears I began to rebuild it. Did I want this life? Not so much really, but clearly God did. I now focus my life on writing, maintaining a website that supports and inspires others in grief or loss and I treasure those I love deeply. I’ve learned life is short, pain is very real and we are best served living life with as much joy as our hearts can hold. It happens one step at a time. Take that first step with me.

Encourage others.  Believe in them.  Appreciate them.  See God in everyone.

Dr. Norris Chumley

Happiness

is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.

Mohandas Gandhi Indian Leader

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMOMgQCRAqM