Manning the Oars - August 12, 2009

After my husband Craig transitioned from this physical world to the next stage of his soul’s journey, I talked to family members about whether to continue posting to the blog he and I had done for two years. The input was that I should stop doing so. For these last weeks, I have been writing Dear Craig letters in a journal instead.

There are aspects of this journey of grief and loss that are very personal and the private work of my soul. However, much of this process of change I can share. And, through an intuitive friend last week, Craig requested that I post occasional blog messages so that people who have followed our journey will know how I’m doing. I’ve decided to begin a new blog though instead of continuing to post to the one Craig started. The same friend also shared with me that Craig has been assigned the joyful task of being of direct service to me and those he loves for about the next year and that he is so happy to be able to continue his life-long journey of being of service to others.

The “boat ride” image of this blog came from a session I had with another intuitive friend who described my journey over the next few months as being like a boat on the ocean that will sometimes experience some very stormy seas. She assured me that the boat will not tip over, however! Alternatively, she also described it in pregnancy and births terms – as a fertile germination period in my life, and the birth will be in 9 months or so after Craig’s passing. This is also a nine-month Restoration Project for my energy!

It is my impression and observation that becoming widowed often makes people become non-functional. Through the grace of God and the help of many people, I feel more prepared for it than people often are, am rebellious enough to be unwilling to fall into a standardized pattern, and am confident that all of this is God’s will and that I have not “lost” Craig. As a family, we were all very “complete” with Craig’s passing, with little in the way of regrets or guilt. And yet, of course, there is unavoidable and necessary grieving.

Over this six weeks since Craig physically left me, my greatest challenges have been what I knew ahead of time would be difficult: learning how to communicate with him and adjusting to the absence of physical talking and touch. I’ve also struggled with physical exhaustion and learning how to release the grief…and how to recognize and allow occasional times of anger. Craig’s bedroom has been turned back into a prayer room, so when I’m there and wherever else I am, I’m learning to have intuitive conversations with him, ask for his help, and increase the amount of prayer and meditation I’m doing as points of connection. I’m grateful for the assistance of intuitive friends who help me get better glimpses of how and what Craig’s doing (and then, of course, I have moments of getting pissed off that they can communicate with him in ways that I can’t!).

The day after the graveside service on July 3rd, I drove to Toronto with my brother and sister-in-law to see my mother for a few days. On July 14th, I flew from Cleveland to Ft. Lauderdale to joyfully see my daughter pregnant (her constant nausea and Craig’s illness prevented our seeing one another for months). On July 16th, my granddaughter Giuliana was born via c-section, and I was able to stay for the first week of her life. The timing of Craig’s death allowed this all to happen, and I am grateful I could be there.

I was amazed at the constant tasks that follow someone’s death that I’ve tackled in these weeks as well. Thank you and personal acknowledgement notes (great for triggering necessary tears!), Social Security office, banking, life insurance claims, ordering the gravestone, visits to the cemetery, and on and on… My exhaustion from taking care of Craig simply increased.

My body, heart, mind, and soul needed time to stop and rest and recoup some level of energy as well as focus on the grieving process. So, I’ve left home for a few weeks to stay alone at a loaned home in Venice, Florida, close to the beach [any burglars reading this should know that someone is living at my home in Cleveland in my absence!]. So, I’m resting, beaching, swimming, reading, writing, painting, and whatever flows around for me to do. I have friends nearby when I need them, but I’m keeping social things at a minimum.

I’m going to close here with two things that have been very comforting to me as I learn how to have a marriage with Craig while he is physically absent. This is a story about ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s response to a grieving wife: “If you have a bed of lilies-of-the-valley that you love and tenderly care for, they cannot see you, nor can they understand your care, nevertheless, because of that tender care, they flourish. So it is with your husband. You cannot see him, but his loving influence surrounds you, cares for you, watches over you. They, who have passed into the Divine Garden, pray for us there, as we pray for them here.” (Lady Blomfield, The Chosen Highway, p. 215)

The second came from my session that I mentioned earlier that included the boat ride description: “Craig is surrounding you, not just near you, but surrounding you. The love that you have felt from him in your collective relationship is like a ball of light--it is protection for you, it is a continuum around you, it opens doors for you in the future when you need them. He is there. His resources are multiple and many and ready. And you need to know it.”

So, I cry and smile and watch the butterflies, dragonflies, and birds and see them as symbols of Craig’s flight to the Kingdom. There is no real separation between us and the separation is “temporary”…at least I’m doing my best to keep the faith that this is so!

Love,
Susanne