When loneliness calls….
We don’t ask to become care givers, but when the diagnosis comes, we step into the task.
We do it willingly and yet, not realizing what’s ahead, and how hard the care giving will be, we take it on, one day at a time.
We work hard at being the best care giver we can be, because we’re watching over our loved one and what could be more important than that?
The days and nights are long, but we make it through…and more importantly so do they….until the cancer makes its move.
We don’t realize it at the time, but while all this care giving is going on, our lives have started to shrink. In the beginning, the “normal” was still there. Going out to dinner, having friends over, movies, mini-vacations; all the things that represented “life” were still on the calendar.
But as the disease progressed, the world began to shrink. Loneliness began to shade the days and life was changing. Did we even notice this was becoming the new normal?
And if cancer took your loved one, as it did in my case, grief rolled in and there wasn’t much room for any other emotion at the time.
But time has moved on. I still grieve for Leroy in many different ways.
Loneliness, a different version from what I felt in my care giving days, has taken on a new form, but one that is just as powerful.
I miss HIM. I miss the conversation. I miss the little, funny moments that were special to just us. When we laughed for just a second, but we laughed together. No one else would have gotten the joke. I miss him finishing my thoughts; almost like he could pull them out of my mind. It was scary sometimes. I miss him coming through the door late at night after another “Nightline” had come and gone. When he would sit on the couch and rewind through the day and fast forward to tomorrow.
That’s when loneliness calls…….
February 25, 2014 @ 12:21 pm
Maybe it’s the grayness of winter but it has been especially difficult these last few months. I often think of your post the day before Leroy died…I can’t remember the exact words but I knew cancer was making the move to take him. I think of that and still feel your pain and I now feel your loneliness in your words. You’ve painted the picture of our lives..lonely in a way that nobody can fill. I went to “widows camp” sponsored by Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation last spring and it helped for a while but I feel I’m slipping back to where there is an ache for Jim to hold my hand or put his arm around me in the big bear hug he had. Your flowers will soon be blooming and your trees will be getting their leaves…I hope that helps. I want to say stay strong but if you’re like me, you’re tired of being strong so just keep putting one foot in front of the other.
February 25, 2014 @ 6:02 pm
Kathie,
This blog came to me following a dinner with a wonderful group of women, all widows and most became widows because of cancer. We’re all on different parts of the widow’s walk, but we all feel the loneliness. Mine comes and goes and I really don’t have many markers, except for the obvious birthdays, anniversaries, etc., but sometimes it’s just there.
The flowers and trees will help a long with a heaping tablespoon of warm sunshine. But I know some how, the loneliness will still find a way to find me.
L