I’ve been absent from my page for some time now. Perhaps the longest time since I started my blog five years ago. That drives me crazy. This is the place that helped me get up and stand on my feet when I was at my lowest.
For almost a year now I am facing yet another challenge. Next month in June it will be exactly one year that I am trying to find my balance and I am hoping and praying that things will settle down somehow.
We human beings are so resilient. We fall, we get up, we rise, we fall again. We expect the worse, and yet when we face it, when it happens, we are shaken. But nothing prepares us for the moment of death, for that moment in time when we lose a loved one. No matter how prepared we are, the reality shakes us to the core. That feeling of loss is like nothing we have experienced before.
When I lost my husband, I felt this emptiness inside. It is still there. I carry this mountain of sadness in my chest that I try to put aside. I will never get over his loss and the emptiness and sadness will always be there. It will not go away. Nor will it change its intensity. But I choose to put it aside whenever I can help it.
This page, my page helps me do that. It helps me heal. It is the place where I can be myself. I don’t have to pretend. It helps me travel down the memory lane. I remember all the people I have loved and who have loved me. I remember those I’ve lost over the years. But I also remember the people who have hurt me and the ones I have hurt and I feel sorry for doing it.
Absenting myself from my page makes me bitter, angry and resentful. And yet I hate to admit it but I have developed a certain attachment to my own comfortable misery. As if I am expecting or waiting for some kind of instant gratification to be moved and motivated to continue.
Didn’t Jesus say to the sick and the fallen, “Get up and walk,” instead of saying, “Let me help carry you,” or something. Didn’t he mean it in the way that you alone can help cure yourself? Take the first step, stand up and try. Have faith and you will rise and walk. It’s that first step that is the hardest to take.
When I first started my blog I didn’t know where I was going with it, where it would lead me, or if I would be able to continue. When I expressed my concerns to my late husband at the time, he said, “You just start, don’t think about anything else. You just take that first step and start, then all will follow.“
Now that he is gone, my page has helped me heal my past somehow and ease the pain. It has helped me come home to myself when I was lost and didn’t know where I was going. Thanks to my fellow writers and bloggers and readers it has given meaning to my life again when I was certain I had lost my purpose.
John W. Gardner wrote:
“Meaning is not something you stumble across, like the answer to a riddle or the prize in a treasure hunt. Meaning is something you build into your life. You build it out of your own past, out of your affections and loyalties, out of experience of humankind as it is passed on to you, out of your own talent and understanding, out of things you believe in, out of the things and people you love, out of the values for which you are willing to sacrifice something. The ingredients are there. You are the only one who can put them together into that unique pattern that will be your life. Let it be a life that has dignity and meaning for you. If it does, then the particular balance of success or failure is of less account.”