Posts Tagged ‘spouse’
Once a Daughter, Always a Daughter
Mary E. Schulz is a Social Worker and writer who loves dogs, opera and stories that take her
breath away.
We all have roles in our life. For me, I have been a wife, best friend, health care professional
and daughter. All of these roles have brought me joy and some heart ache and I am grateful for
the chance to have lived all of these experiences.
But in 2017, my husband died, followed by both my parents within a year. In one year, most of
my family was gone. I felt like I was in a row boat and suddenly had no paddles, just drifting,
with very little to help me stay on course.
After my husband died, I threw myself in to providing support and care to my two elderly and
increasingly frail parents. I had more time to visit and to help them with their day-to-day lives.
If I could never be a wife and best friend to my husband again, at least I could be the best
possible daughter.
And then, quite quickly, Mom and Dad died within months of each other.
I remember saying to a friend, “I am an orphan now. I will never be a wife or daughter again.
Who am I? How will I ever find anything to do – to be – that will even begin to fill those shoes?”
My friend wisely told me that I will always be a wife. I will always be a daughter. Nothing ever
changes that. Yes, my husband and parents will never be with me in the same way that they
were when they were alive. But the love we shared – while very different- would never die.
Love never dies. So being a daughter or a wife doesn’t die with them.
Being a daughter and a wife helped me to grow into the person I have become. Having these
wise and loving people in my life shaped my beliefs, my experiences, my personality. My
husband and parents, each in their own way, guided me through tough times and celebrated
with me in the good times. Now that they have died, I am part of their legacy and everything
we experienced together is part of me.
This perspective helps me a lot. I grieve these three wonderful people in my life. But I talk to
them each quite regularly (yes, out loud!) about how grateful I am to be their daughter. To be
his wife. Yes, I use the present tense because I still feel I am their daughter and I am his wife –
and always will be.
I find this comforting. I have lost a lot but I have not lost my relationship with my parents and
my husband. Love never dies and that helps to keep them close.
Grief is Not the Enemy
Mary E. Schulz is a Social Worker and writer who loves dogs, opera and stories that take her
breath away.
When I was younger, before anyone close to me had died, I thought that grief was something to
be beaten. Conquered. Overcome. That grief is the enemy. I would hear people say things like,
“She needs to get over it soon. It’s been two years since so-and-so died.”
I have always thought of myself as a strong person. I have been very blessed in my life and have
not experienced a lot of hardships. Sure, I have had to work hard for the things that have
mattered most to me but when difficulties came my way, which they eventually do to
everyone, I was always able to manage – with the help of family and friends around me.
Until I experienced the death of my husband. That changed everything.
My husband and I enjoyed a long and very happy life together. We were not only partners in
life but best friends as well. So, when I started to realize that he was never coming back, to
really understand the finality of his death, I put on my armour and prepared to do battle. Grief
was not going to beat me! I needed to pull myself together, find lots of things to do in order to
get my mind off how sad and heartbroken I was and get on with figuring out my different life.
For me, this was absolutely the wrong approach. I had never before experienced anything as
devastating as the death of my husband so why would my usual ways of coping work? Well,
they didn’t.
I learned that grief is not the enemy. Grief is not the bad guy I needed to kick out of my life. I
learned that grief is love. Sounds so obvious now but it took me a while to really understand
that. You only grieve people you love. Grief was the flip side of all that love.
So, I did something that may sound kind of silly. I decided to invite grief in. To open the door
and let it in. Not fight it, push the door shut and try to keep it forever outside. I said to my grief
(often out loud), “Come on in. You are obviously going to be with me for a long, long time so we
may as well get acquainted.”
I saw myself pulling up a chair and saying to my grief, “Have a seat. Make yourself comfortable.
Let’s get to know each other.”
And so it began – my new relationship with grief. I see it now as my constant companion. Some
days it is not as obvious as other days but it is always there, walking beside me, sitting at the
dining room table when I eat my meals, or quietly holding my hand when I listen to music. It is
part of me now. I tell my grief how much it hurts. I tell my grief how I wouldn’t trade one day of
my life with my husband even if it meant never feeling grief again. We are becoming a comfort
to one another.
I am learning to live with longing.