Thursday, July 29, 2021

Into the fifth year

 So, I am now into the fifth year of my incredible loss and I'm realizing that I have pushed my immense sorrow deep down into a pocket of my heart, safely tucked way, or so I think. I can now get through most of my waking hours without the feelings of dread and heartache that have consistently wracked my mind and body since my beloved Warren died. It never goes away though, it just changes. 

For a long time I could not face his loss. My anger and bitterness overwhelmed me, mostly because of the cancer that took his life.  He was a very healthy man and this was a punch in the gut that appeared out of the blue, no real warning, no clue....just there in the blink of an eye. How the hell does that happen? Thus my intense anger and rage which has been festering now, for years.

That smoldering anger has ruled my life and, slowly, I'm trying to let it go. I talk to him a lot. I listen to his videos and voicemails because I love the sound of his voice. I close my eyes and see him then. I sometimes smile and sometimes cry. But I'm thankful that I have them.

The apprehension I feel is exacerbated by my hold on the anger. So I continue to look for ways to release it. I've read books, I've talked to people and surprisingly, I've been able to assuage others in similar circumstances although I've not been able to do the same for me. It's disquieting and gives me palpitations but I keep trying. And I realize I feel this way because of the great love we had. I continue to feel that love, every single second that I breathe. 

What I'm really trying to say here is that I'm not the same person I was, I'm really two people: the one who will forever internally mourn his loss with pain, agony, tears and deep sorrow and the other who shows a semblance of calm on the outside, never revealing what's deep down inside, presenting a normal facade to the public. It will never be okay on the inside but it will be okay on the outside. And I consider that another step forward. My ultimate goal is to find some peace. Working on it. 

Copyright © 2021 Reisa Sterling Miller. All Rights Reserved.

Tuesday, June 22, 2021

1461 days

 It's been four years since my life was ripped apart, my heart was smashed into millions of pieces, my sons lost their best friend, and so did I. But during these 1461 days, I have seen Warren's strength, intelligence, sense of humor and love become so much more conspicuous through our sons, Ethan and Abbott. These two have channeled their dad so naturally and so completely that most of our conversations, texts and emails have us convulsing in laughter. And in the back of my mind, I can hear Warren joining in and I can see his beautiful twinkling eyes and wide, magnificently exquisite smile. 

The three of us are so lucky to have the memories that we do. Every conversation we have always includes Warren's input in one way or another and his presence is unmistakeable.

I'm grateful for the thousands of photos I have and the not enough videos and voicemails I still have. I carry those everywhere so he's always with me, visually and audibly. And he's in my heart and head,  always and in all ways. 

But grief has been my companion for 1461 days and it has never left me alone. It has changed but has never gotten easier because I miss his voice, his laughter, his puns and jokes, his hugs. I miss everything about him. It is ever present, it just feels and looks different now. Some days it is vivid and some days it hides just below the surface. But the grief I feel is always a reminder of the great love we had.

How can it already be 1461 days? It seems like only yesterday. My Love, my beloved Warren, I hug you in my thoughts every day.

Copyright © 2021. Reisa Sterling Miller. All Rights Reserved.

Monday, January 25, 2021

His presence makes a difference.

I'm beginning 2021 in a little better health than the last two months of 2020. I contracted Valley Fever with bilateral pneumonia and it really knocked the hell out of me. It was more than scary for me. I've never been so sick and felt so alone.

Over the years, I've been lucky enough to enjoy relatively good health. But during the few times when I wasn't well, I always had Warren to lean on. He always took such good care of me. I always felt protected and knew he would never let anything bad happen to me.

This time though, I felt uncertain, vulnerable and scared. There were a few nights when my breathing was so labored and I would get into bed wondering whether I would get up in the morning. The dread of being alone was almost overwhelming. As much as I love Snuggles, she had some trouble stepping into  Warren's role for the reassurance and comfort I always had when Warren was with me. But she found a way to help me in her own 'snuggling' way.

It's times like this that the wound opens up wide and the anguish comes spilling out. I let it flow until it runs out of spaces to go.

I talk to him all the time. While I am sick, though, I specifically ask him to see me through this like he always did. "In sickness and in health"............ we always took care of each other and I truly believe he has been watching over me and making sure I get better every day.

And even though I'm not quite out of the woods yet, (I still have pneumonia), I feel almost normal. I believe Warren's influence helps me retain a sense of calm and hope as I take all the precautions necessary to make a complete recovery. 

Thank you, my Darling, for the presence you still have in my life. You are always with me.

Copyright © 2021. Reisa Sterling Miller. All Rights Reserved