I am married to a dead man

It might sound callous to some, but I don't know how else to put it. I am married to a dead man.  I still feel, no, I still am, married. I promised to love Jim for the rest of my life, not his.  As Maddy Paxman writes, "In my head, I still consider myself to be his wife, not his widow. My grief has not yet moved into the past tense." For about six months after Jim died, I couldn't even use the word widow to refer to myself. I am an avid reader and bought stacks of books on grieving, but it took me a year before I could open a book that had Widow in the title.

I still wear my rings. Perhaps it is a form of denial, but it just feels right. And expect to hear me talk about my husband, Jim. I can't just block out the last 20 years of my life experiences. He was so much of my life, a part of me, and continues to be. He, and my grief, will forever be a part of who I am. I still consider myself lucky for loving Jim so much that I grieve him so deeply.

Someday I may write my own book about the lighter side of grief, those who think I am suddenly (well, it's been over a year, they say) in dire need of a man. The strange things that people (including me) say, think and do. But for now let me just say, in my heart, I am married. I am not available, looking or even wishing... for anyone but Jim.


So please don't ask, "have I met someone? Am I seeing someone? Is there someone special" I know it is hard for you to understand how much those questions hurt. I may be ready someday, to look, to feel, to open my heart to love again, but for now, and until I let you know otherwise, I am married...to a dead man.

Paxman writes about introductions at a party, and explains:

‘This is Michael Donaghy’s . . .  what should I call you? His widow? His ex?’ my host asked. I thought about it briefly and answered ‘His wife.’ 

After all, although Michael is dead, I am  not married to anyone else. And nor am I likely to be just yet. 

And we didn’t choose to end the marriage — he was just snatched away from it, and me, by dying suddenly at the age of 50. 

That was ten years ago. In my head, I still consider myself to be his wife, not his widow. My grief has not yet moved into the past tense. And, yes, while ten years may seem like a very long time to be in mourning, I can tell you that in the journey of grieving it really isn’t. 

And so I live in a world where I am still mourning, but those around me seem terribly confused by my emotions. Grief is openly discussed, portrayed regularly on television or in the papers, and now even tweeted about incessantly. 

But we still don’t know how to actually feel it, or to sit quietly with the experience of friends who are grieving. Saying that ‘Time will heal’ is no help at all. And, anyway, I’m not sure it’s true. 

Time moves on, life moves on, but grief, like love, becomes forever part of who you are

Read more: The Daily Mail: Why Can't We Cope with Grief...

A new binder

I had a dream. In the dream, a student came to me very agitated. He said he couldn't take anymore notes because the notebook he used for science was full. I told him simply to just get a new notebook from the supply cabinet. And then I woke me with a start, The dream was not scary, so I thought there must be something here.


So I thought about it. What about the full binder connected to my life?

My life with Jim was full... Full of love, laughter, passion, security and friendship. We had almost 20 years of love, laughter, tears, loss, challenges and joys. We traveled together and made a very comfortable home. We raised a kind, compassionate, hard working son. We had a good life And that notebook got full. It doesn't mean my life is over. It just means I need to get another notebook, and start filling it with adventures. 

Every day unfolds the next step in my journey

Today's meditation centering thought was, every day unfolds the next step in my journey. It's about getting unstuck. This message was about intention and seeking awareness. So I was thinking what is my intention? What do I want? What I want most is Jim. And obviously I know I can't have that. So then, what do I want next most? I think what I want most is peace.

I want to not worry about what was, and what will never be. I want to enjoy the blessings of the present moment.

Merriam Webster defines peace as follows:
Full Definition of peace
1:  a state of tranquility or quiet: as
a :  freedom from civil disturbance
b :  a state of security or order within a community provided for by law or custom <a breach of the peace>
2:  freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions
3:  harmony in personal relations
4a :  a state or period of mutual concord between governments
b :  a pact or agreement to end hostilities between those who have been at war or in a state of enmity

Peace, then, is the absence of tension, freedom from disquieting thoughts. A state of quiet calm.


One of my walking meditation mantras is "why worry if there is something you can do? If there is nothing you can do, why worry?"

I cannot change the fact that Jim is gone. Yet, it continues for disturb my sense of tranquility. When I leave my awareness of the present moment, when I replay the past. or worry about the future, is when I go out of peace.

There was a song I grew up with, "Let There Be Peace on Earth"  written by Jill Jackson Miller and Sy Miller in 1955. In part, the lyrics go like this:

Let this be the moment now;

...

To take each moment and live each moment

In peace eternally.

Let there be peace on earth

And let it begin with me

So how can I work to stay peaceful? Meditation helps.  Allowing space for happy memories and not dwelling in the sad. By allowing the turmoil to go on around me, but to not let it own me or overtake me. By connecting with people, places and activities that help me find a sense of peace... walking on the beach, enjoying the sunset, sitting by the fire chatitng with friends, petting my dog... all done mindfully and with intention. I can create peace making new memories, finding new ways to be content, to feel loved and safe. By making a commitment every day to live more peacefully. And to let it begin with me.

Getting Unstuck. Part 1

Today's meditation mantra or centering thought was "I embrace the newness of each day". The mantra was the wholeness of the universe is my true self. So I've been meditating on getting unstuck with Deepak and Oprah. The thing that I feel stuck in is my grief. It's not that I don't believe that I'm going to grieve forever. I am. I can't help it, it's part of who I am and always will be. Jim will always be a part of who I am and the loss of Jim that was always a part of who I am, as well. And I am okay with that.

But what I do need to figure out is how I go on living with that grief being a part of who I am. I've been putting a pretty good show. I've been keeping busy and doing interesting things and even doing a little bit of traveling. But in my heart I still feel like a charlatan. I feel like I am going through the motions and at some point everybody's going to see through that and see that really I'm just a sad, sad person who's pretending to be happy. So what I have been trying to figure out is: how I move beyond the sadness of grief, and move into the living with grief and eventually the thriving with/despite grief.

What I'm working on now is the revelation that I had today that the wholeness of the universe includes Jim's spirit. I absolutely do not believe that our spirit dies. I don't know what happens after death, I don't know if there's heaven. I don't know if there's reincarnation. But I do believe our spirit lives on.

So if our spirit lives on, then our spirit is part of the universe, And the wholeness of the universe is part of my true self. So Jim will always be a part of me and that's never going to go away! Maybe I am not stuck at all and I am just continuing to integrate this new reality into my consciousness.

It is, I am, A work in progress.

Each day is an opportunity to accept my grief as part of my new normal, and embrace the life that I still have left to live.

The Best Company to Work For

Jim and I met at work. We had one date that didn't start out as a date, and I told him, "I don't date guys from work (anymore)." He came in the following Monday and gave his notice! He left to work at Coopers and Lybrand, which later became PriceWaterhouseCoopers, +PwC and thus began his career as a consultant. He was really, really good at it. His clients loved him and mostly his bosses 'got him', notably Shirley Bogan and Marc Gallo. He could be, in my observation, arrogant and indignant, but the arrogance came from his drive to do his best, for him, his company and his clients. And he did.  And he had integrity. The thing that would set him off more than any other was someone questioning his integrity. Jim was a good man and a dedicated employee and strove to do right for his company and clients (not always in that order).

At the age of 50, Jim wanted to scale back a bit. His career had him travelling a lot and carried with it inherently a great deal of pressure, which was beginning to take a toll.  One of his colleagues, +Ted Van Huisen had gone to +Slalom Consulting, and he convinced Jim to join their team in 2011.

As much as Jim loved working with Shirley, Marc and the team at C&L all those years ago, I never saw him more content that he was at Slalom.  He was able to take gigs close to home. He was probably one of the oldest employees they had but he was well loved. They respected his experience and wisdom that came with his grey beard and valued his expertise. He loved being able to contribute, do his best, and come home every night. The company treated their employees incredibly well. Every year they hosted a retreat, or Escape, weekend, and I still smile when I use the commemorative wine glass from one of these escapes.

At Escape weekend, Dan and his wife in the background.

When Jim had to go on medical leave, Dan Biaggi (who had been at C&L and was now Jim's manager) and the whole team at Slalom SF, rallied around and supported both of us in every way possible. Becky in HR was just, literally, a godsend.  She walked us through everything we needed to do to ensure benefits and we felt so incredibly supported

At Jim's funeral, his friend and colleague, Ted, gave the eulogy and spoke of Jim's selfless generosity and compassion. He finished with these words: 

So today, I am not here today to say goodbye to Jim, only “see you later.” I will continue to bring him to every tough client meeting that I have, every coaching session, and every long commute. He will always be my comrade, my mentor, and my friend. And some day when I see him on the other side, the first beer is on me.

After Jim died, Becky continued to work with me and help me navigate through some of the process.  I don't think I ever met her but she treated me like a friend.

I still follow Slalom's facebook page and often when people share their "why I work here" stories, I have felt compelled to write in, so I am finally sharing our "why I love Slalom' story.  I hope no one has to experience the end aspects of what we did with the folks at Slalom, but I am so grateful they were there for us. But I am more grateful for the balance they restored to our lives in those last several years of Jim's career. Slalom truly is  one of the best companies to work for, and I don't need Forbes, Fortune or glassdoor to tell me that.

I can live, and I do

Recently, a friend of mine posted lyrics from the Harry Nilsson song, "I can't live if living is without you" and it got me thinking. My first response it, yes, damn it, you can, and you will, even when you don't want to.

There were many days and nights when I wished I could die too, after Jim died.  I never was suicidal, I just did not want to be alive. But I didn't die 

I was, for many months, doing the zombie walk. Getting through the necessities of life but not living. 

Eventually I would surprise myself by smiling or even laughing at something. I was able to find hints, slivers of joy peeking through like sunlight through the edge of a curtain. 

Once I realized I wasn't going to die I had to think about how I wanted to live. My husband Jim lived life to the fullest. He was brave and he was vulnerable. He was strong yet soft. He had dreams and sadly, many those dreams would never be realized because his life was cut short by cancer. I honor Jim by living my life, by striving for my dreams, by showing gratitude and compassion every day. By living in the moment. By finding the joy in life. 

I'm not yet ready to say that I can find the gift in my loss. However I can say my grief and loss have made me stronger,more compassionate and yes, more joyful.

Moments

http://www.goluputtar.com/best/life-quotes/

About 20 years ago this month there was a moment when I sat across from the conference table and was introduced to a new colleague named Jim McConnell. What I didn't realize at the time was that we had actually spoken on the phone about a year before. Back then he was an irate customer and my impression of him then was that he was arrogant and annoying. As we started working together, we realized we had a lot in common. We had both relocated to the East Coast from far away for reasons that were similar. And we forged a friendship out of that common bond. Jim's client base was in New York where I was located . One night a group of us were planning to go to a movie and everybody canceled except for Jim. I really didn't want to go to a movie with just this one guy so I agreed to meet for a drink. I figured we'd grab a drink next-door to my office at Bryant Park and then I would quickly get on my train, making my excuses. Funny how life has other plans. That quick drink after work became dinner, dinner became kind of a date. That moment after work turned into a very special evening. He called on Friday to see if he could drive down from Boston and I met his son Bobby and the three of us connected really quickly. We had a  fun weekend in the beautiful Hudson Valley. But at the end of the weekend, I informed him that I was not interested in dating someone from work. Less than 48 hours later he showed up at the office and gave his two  week notice. Jim said "OK I don't work here anymore we can date," so we did.

Six months later I got an offer to move back to California. It was a great job offer that I couldn't refuse so I didn't. I moved and three months after that Jim announced that his boss agreed to transfer Jim to California. He proposed to me at Christmas. Ten months later we were married on a beautiful day at the beach, surrounded by close family and friends, while dolphins played in the surf. I still can't believe how quickly everything progressed.

Seventeen short years later Jim was diagnosed with cancer. And two years ago  he died. What I never realized then, but do now is that what seemed to be seemingly insignificant moments became huge moments that would change my life forever and indeed define me.

I wouldn't have changed one of those moments to give up the others. I'm blessed to have the moments that created our life together and the memories of our love. I'm also blessed by the friends and family that have stood with me and held me up during these extremely difficult last three years.

I have learned be mindful of each moment. To embrace the joy of now.The little things really do become the big things. And you just never know.

http://quotes.viralcreek.com/moments-take-breath-away/