Here’s a little mind map I came up with to help me start my Mission Statement. Hopefully it helps you know where to start in your redefinition process.
Here’s a little mind map I came up with to help me start my Mission Statement. Hopefully it helps you know where to start in your redefinition process.
After the initial phase of shock that hit after Pete’s death, I spent the next couple of weeks feeling freed. I felt a weight had been lifted off me. I was finally free from the confines of cancer. I felt the anger I had accumulated towards this inanimate object, cancer, was no longer staring me in the face in the form of my dying husband. At the risk of sounding cruel, it was a relief.
I immediately set myself on “action mode” knowing that my life had to mean something. I had to do great things in order to prove Pete’s death wasn’t in vain. Something good had to come of it and I appointed myself the doer of those things. Whatever they were.
I started with a few ideas. Climbing Mt. Shasta (still in the works but has to wait until next year). Completing HIS bucket list by traveling to all the places he only dreamed about. Creating a website to help widows live through loss. Living with less. Living a healthier lifestyle. Writing a book. And the list goes on and on.
Some of these things I have started on but most of them I have not actually accomplished. Firstly, because life has gotten in the way but mostly, because its only been a month and a half since he left us. None of this will happen overnight. It all takes work.
You see, patience is not my strong suit. I hate waiting.
So in the quiet of my own mind today, as we all fluttered around the house in our sick, cold-laden state I couldn’t help but be disappointed in myself. I questioned my true calling here on this earth. I wondered what I was meant to do. And mostly, I wondered why I haven’t completed any of it. Many of you will respond to those questions by reminding me that I’m a mom and my life has been consumed by my sick husband. Yes, I know that, but I struggle to accept those answers when I feel the walls of our house closing in on me.
It all comes down to the fact that I feel lonely. I felt more of a purpose in life when my life-partner was standing by my side cheering me on and telling me I was strong and capable. Sure, deep down I can still hear him say those things but that’s not enough. The comfort he gave me was immense. When we said those vows, we promised we would always be there for each other. I knew he would always be there for me through thick and thin. His dreams weren’t just his, they were mine too and now that he’s gone its hard not to feel as though our dreams were swept away as well.
And so, all this leaves me where I stand now. A young widow of two precious babies. How do I move on by not only creating my own dreams but accomplishing them as well?
I don’t really know the answer but I suppose only time will tell.
How did you redefine yourself after loss?
How did you move on while still paying tribute to your partner and everything you dreamed of together?
We put an offer on a house yesterday. I wasn’t overly excited. It felt right but I wasn’t excited. Not like I felt when we bought our first house. Our home. I didn’t get to come home and recount everything to Pete. We didn’t spend endless hours pining through MLS listings together searching for the perfect one. It just was.
Every transition becomes what we make of it and fortunately I am making the most of it. There just wasn’t much excitement. Things were different this time and they still are. I’m learning how to do things without him. It doesn’t mean I like it, it just means I have to and will make the most of what comes our way <3
Tonight I learned of another battle lost to colon cancer. Although I didn’t know the person, I do know he was young (mid 50′s) and left behind a wife and three boys. My heart is aching for them. It’s so difficult to put into words the pain I feel for them. Their loss hits so close to home because of my husband’s diagnosis. So tonight I have decided to write his wife a letter. I don’t know much, but I know her name. Here it goes:
Dear Doris,
I feel your pain. I know your hurt. I understand your anger. I realize your frustration and I can relate to your insecurity. I know what cancer can do. I know it doesn’t seem fair and I have no words to relieve your pain. All I can do is cry with you. As tears stream down my face, I’m sure they are streaming down your’s as well. As the next few weeks are filled with preparations and saying goodbye, make sure you take the time to cry. Make sure you take the time to tell Mark how much you love him. How much you admire him for the courageous fight he put up here on this earth. Make sure you remind him that he will always be with you in spirit, despite the twists and turns of life. Make sure you take time for you, but most of all, make sure you take time to feel the presence of our loving God. I pray you would be still long enough to allow Him to wrap His arms around you. I pray you would rejoice in the fact that Mark is now where he belongs.
You are forever in my heart and in my prayers.
With love,
Alysha
Although I know this letter does not do justice to their loss, these are a few things I would want to be reminded of in the event our situation took a turn for the worse. I know God is good and His plan is bigger than we’ll ever comprehend, but despite the desire to try to make sense of it all, sometimes it’s important just to be. Grieving is a complicated process but I believe being present in the moment is a good start.
I started a blog when we moved overseas a few years ago and when my husband was diagnosed I revamped it in order to keep family and friends updated. Well, a few months ago I suggested my hubby be my guest blogger. Well, he did and he has graced me with his presence on our blog a few times since then. His last post was inspiring, touching, and just plain beautiful. So, I am awarding him with the HUG award. Thank you Love for the new perspective on your experience in this cancer whirlwind. I love you!
I am passionate, sometimes overly so. I get excited about things others don’t. According to my husband, this quality is something he loves about me. However, recently he has had to put me in my place more so than not. My husband is the opposite; he likes solidarity. I love people.
Since cancer has come into the picture my husband has become even more introverted and I in turn have become overly passionate; trying everything I can to keep him engaged in life. I am the type of person that believes the pitch of my voice is directly proportional to someone’s level of understanding. In other words, the louder I talk, the more you’re going to understand the point I’m trying to make. I am still trying to find a balance and yesterday it became very aware to me that that balance must be found soon.
For a while I have expected more out of my husband than he is capable of giving. Cancer and chemotherapy have stunted his intellect, energy level, and desire for communication. Ahh, the lovely side effects of Chemo Brain. His inability to connect has only caused me to yearn for it more. Yesterday, through a series of texts, I realized I lacked an understanding of the devastating effects of chemotherapy. As a result of his physical and emotional depletion, I assumed he didn’t love me or had no desire to build up our marriage. My frustration came out in a passionate rage. I raised my voice and felt as if I wanted to pound my desires into his head. I couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t understand. Why he stood silent. So I left.
He explained it like this, via text, after he had a chance to think things through:
“I just want to be and not think. I have heavy enough things on my mind constantly as it is…. I know that’s not fair to you and I’m sorry. I promise to work on it but I need you to understand that my brain isn’t really working at full capacity. Chemo brain is real. It sucks and I forget things and just want to do the easiest thing possible.”
Before this text I believed that if I forced him to be engaged in something: a family trip, a house project, or a bible study, that he wouldn’t have a chance to let go. Now I realize that allowing him some down time is exactly what he needs. This doesn’t mean he’s saying goodbye or giving up, it’s just what he needs to recoup what the drugs are draining out of him.
All this reveals the need for a delicate balance between the terrible effects of chemotherapy and maintaining life. How do I allow him the time to heal without feeling like we’re missing out? I would venture to say it all comes down to satisfaction. Being satisfied by the little things. Sitting on the couch together, watching the kids jump on the trampoline, or enjoying our favorite meals. Isn’t it the little things that count? Yeah, I think that’s right. So, here’s to finding joy in the little things!
I so tried to make today a great day. And I think, for the most part, I succeeded. At least I tried, right?
It was really beautiful outside today. The weather was perfect. We even made it to the park. I had the opportunity to witness my childrens’ beautiful smiles each time they squealed with delight as they came careening down the slide. Simply put, there were a lot of smiles. It made my heart sing. Really, the experience made me feel as if being a mother was what I was created to be. But, there was just one thing missing…..daddy.
Pete’s latest chemo session came to a close yesterday when his pump was removed. He was feeling pretty good. Feeling as if he has somehow escaped those nasty side effects he felt while on the previous regimen. Unfortunately they kicked in today.
I felt so bad for him but I’m afraid I don’t know how to be the wife he needs me to be when he’s feeling sick, so I just go or do. Anything to get me out of the house and away from him. That sounds so terrible but I feel my presence just makes it awkward. Difficult. Restless. And I know what he needs more than anything is to just rest.
The purpose of this blog is to live better. To learn more and try to be more than I am. Today on the radio I was reminded of the similarities between this season of our lives and the current season we celebrate as believers in Christ. The host spoke of Easter as being a time of renewal, new life, and growth. And by being introspective that’s exactly what I intend to do. I am forever grateful that our Savior paid the price for our sins. What an amazing gift. I will be forever in His debt.
It was my husband who first introduced me to this wonderful saying or should I say lifestyle. I believe he had it written on his MySpace profile (LOL!). It hasn’t been until recently that I have really taken it to heart. The truth is that death is a real fact of life. It will happen. However, many of us aren’t sure when. But, when you face a cancer diagnosis, all-of-the-sudden the truth of your own mortality is that much more real. It becomes raw and can weigh on you like a ton of bricks if you’ll allow it to.
The point of this blog is to reverse that feeling. To feel as though we are living life to the fullest every day. To accomplish goals, relinquish fears, grow deeper in faith, and to forgive and be forgiven. It is my hope that our journey will inspire you to do the same. We are only given one life here on earth, so let’s make it count.
It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end. - Ursula K. Le Guin
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