Saturday, June 9, 2012


May 6, 2012 My friend once told me that her divorce was "unclean"; that is, she couldn't grieve the loss as she would the death of a spouse. I am witnessing the death of my spouse which is taking a very very very long time. It's sort of like watching someone you love become consumed by rust, rather than the merciful speed of clean flames. There is nothing clean about this process, either physically or emotionally. You have to become a marathoner even though your every training has only been in the sprint department in order to survive. Another friend, whose husband is going through the same process, said this: "Every day is the same. Every day is different." Such insight. It is monotonous, boring, and isolating. It makes me escape the burgeoning joys around me..the springtime promises of fresh clean air, of new life springing forth from mother earth and new mothers of every species. Even in our own family I am witnessing the gestation and impending birth of new life, and yet..the darkness of the slow, steady loss is still compounding my thoughts and imprisoning me in my own mind. The newness that happens every other day or so, the changes that dispel actual monotony, are negative...the newness of continuing, relentless loss.

1 comment:

  1. I wish there were a way I could ease this path for you. I love you and Stewart very much, despite not having much time together, and I can feel from you, to some degree, the depths of darkness and the lack of air within the hollows the path covers.

    I've always loved the way that you have loved each other. That has always been clear to me in seeing you both together or hearing you -- mostly -- talk about each other. I am grateful that you have had moments of respite, such as you described in caring for your mom, or some of the other experiences that have been filled with light, peace, restfulness, even when the basic circumstances have not changed. It seems at times, from what you've said, Stewart, too, has had these moments of respite, such as when you did the sleep test, and he was able to offer you some comfort.

    Sometimes, I think these droplets of light come from family members beyond this mortal life who see us in the service we seek to give and stand by us, strengthening us with loving support, because they truly understand the full weight of the gift we are striving to give.

    With much love, Marilyn