Terrifying Grief

I’ve been trying to open myself to the idea of really remembering my marriage.

There's a problem that I only realized in the last week or so, maybe I don't want to remember. It's too hard. It's too big. I'm afraid my heart or head will explode if I really look at the life I had. Every now and again, it's as if I open a door just an eighth of an inch and the light of what was my marriage – my life -- is so beautiful, it's blinding. It’s glorious and excruciating at the same time. Really looking at it and remembering is frightening. What if I open that door and go in and the pain of the loss is so great that I can’t take it?

A week after Gene died, I had a dream. I was standing outside what appeared to be a mountain that had a small opening like the entry to a cave. I wouldn’t go in. I wouldn’t take a step toward the opening. From where I was standing, I could hear sounds from inside and could see glimpses. I was being drawn toward the opening. It was as if I knew I was supposed to go in.

 

I can’t remember what I saw or heard, but I remember being terrified of it. It seemed to be some sort of hell with all of the ugliness, excruciating pain, fear and darkness.  I was afraid that if I took a step in there, I might never find my way out. And then I woke up.

I knew right then that inside that doorway was my grief, and if I had gone in there, the grief would consume me. I would freeze in fear, unable to breathe or to move. Then how would I ever get out? It was the most terrifying place I had ever heard or imagined.

Now, a year later, I am stronger but am I strong enough to face grief and enter the opening? To look at my marriage, remember – and feel – how wonderful it was? To truly experience that loss?

 

I want to. I want to remember. I want to feel. I want to appreciate all that I had. I already do appreciate it but there’s a level of appreciation I haven’t gotten to – the level that lets you smile at the memory instead of cry or just block emotion altogether.

I know I have to go through this. Gene wanted me to really live my life, and I’m not. I suspect this is the only way – to enter the cave/mountain of grief.

 
I think I’m strong enough to enter. I just wish I knew what happens after that.