On November 25, 2010 my partner of nearly 25 years, who was suffering from atypical Parkinson’s disease fell and broke her hip. She died on July 18, 2011. During that time I kept an online journal on Caring Bridge, a free web site dedicated to helping people keep in touch with family and friends when someone is suffering from an illness or accident. I wrote the last entry on that site on November 25, 2011. This entry is a continuation of those reflections. (You can find them on the Caring Bridge website – site name: janiselliot.)
Last week marked the second anniversary of Janis’ death. I hesitate to say the second year was any easier than the first – but it was different. I see much more clearly how grief becomes a thread woven throughout my life. One day I find myself sharing something about Jan or about our time together with the joy that infused our relationship; the next day I am slammed with ever deepening sadness as I try to make sense of a life lost to dementia and the challenge to reshape my living to life without her.
I remember Jan once compared launching children from the family home to pulling ivy – you remove it from one place and it just roots somewhere else. So I’ve been pulling the ivy of lost promise – repainting walls, removing photographs, taking down the house number her dad made for us that said, ‘Welcome, Janis and Patti’. I’ve put new photos up, rearranged furniture, invited a wonderful new partner into my life, slowly making my home ours – but will I ever stop seeing the shadow of that rough wood welcome sign, I wonder?
I feel this cultural expectation that while it’s okay to grieve in my own time, after a while – like a year – it’s time to stop talking about it. Occasional memories are acceptable, as long as I’m ‘getting on with my life.’ It’s hard enough to catch up with the lives that didn’t stop like mine, so it’s a bit ironic that I’m being invited to stay the course of the slow slog.
It suddenly dawned on me that there is no catching up, because there isn’t really a ‘getting on…’ the life I’m supposed to get on with isn’t around anymore. Of course there are the same friends and family, bits of work and social commitments, but at the heart of the matter – that is in my heart – I’m not sure it’s ever possible to reclaim that which once was. Watching someone’s personality dismantle dismantles the watcher’s personality as well.
So here’s to year three – an invitation to come back into a transformed me; an opportunity to find new peace in the practice of being just where I am; learning new ways to say goodbye by practicing always saying hello to the glorious beauty of each moment. It sounds so simple because it can be if I can just let it – be.
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Hello Patti –
As someone who knew you and Janis from the joyous moment you opened your hearts to each other – to the heart-wrenching time of her death……. I know, I felt and experienced the depth of your connection with each other. And I know that connection will always be present in your life and in your heart. It has shaped and molded you with its joys, challenges, laughter, and its sorrow.
I support you in finding your own path of honoring the past, as well as moving into the future to see what new joys life offers. I welcome your transformed wonderful self and and welcome learning more of who you are as your life continues to unfold.