Re-Living

This morning I watched an interview of some of the members of the Wounded Warriors Band.  Watched as a young man who has lost both legs and his right arm describe himself as more whole than ever before.  Singing Halleleujah, he described the feeling as his life and dreams crumbled around him and yet he has found new purpose and joy.

And so I remembered my musings on losing my dream life.  Mourning what I have lost.  Grieving over what I had and have no more.  Basically giving up on life and the overwhelming sense of hopelessness.

What timing that this segment should be on television at the exact moment my husband and I were watching.  Because I had not just written my thoughts but had shared them with him.  Probably not what his therapist would list as a supportive gesture.

Because what happened to me watching those brave young men who have lost so much and yet find joy is that I realized that perhaps the life I lost was not the one I was meant to have.  Perhaps the answer is that this is the new dream.  The new path I have been directed to.  How can I question what I have suffered when I still have so much.

I still have my husband and my son.  And if they have changed, perhaps that is what life should be.  Constant change, growth, redirecting.  Appreciating what is here and finding a new dream.  Having faith and trusting is difficult for me.  So perhaps this is learning to trust.

I do have hope.  But not that I will get back what I have lost.  Instead, I will hope that I will find joy once again with what I have now.

Halleleujah!

Self-fulfilling Prophecy

Reading the previous posts I came upon the one about reaching out.  I questioned why, when I am sad or hurt or afraid I turn away from him instead of looking to him for comfort and support.  And I proposed that I was afraid to trust him...afraid that if I did I would find that when I needs him he was not there.

I had a wonderful life...for about 5 seconds.  Not that I would trade all the years we have had together.  But there had been hard times.  I prayed for peace, and finally I felt it.  We had been through hell and had come out on the other side better, stronger, and finally together.  A true marriage, physically, spiritually and emotionally.

And I loved my life.  He bought a motorcycle...his dream come true.  And we rode...just like in the commercials.. He and I together, riding down the road...off into the sunset.  Carefree and happy.

We had raised our children and they were on their own.  Our nest was far from empty, filled with laughter and love, friends and family.  There were magical trips midweek when the rest of the world was working.  We played and had so much fun.

Summer nights on the deck, listening to music and drinking wine.  I saw my girlfriends and we entertained.  We joined a gym and worked out together, enjoying the sweat and admiring the results. We felt healthier and younger than we had in years.

I had the dream come true.  And I loved it.  I told everyone how much I loved my life.  Was that what I did wrong?  Is that what happened?  Because I lost it.  All of it.  My wonderful, beautiful life has been disrupted, displaced, destroyed.

The events of the last 3 years have taken everything I had.  I lost my sense of peace, my laughter, my dreams.  I lost the trust I had finally built.  I turned around and it is gone, replaced by sadness, fear, and hopelessness.

Events have happened that have changed things, changing people, forever?  I don't know.  I don't know why it happened.  I don't know what else is going to come or if I will be able to survive.  So many depending on me and I don't want it.

This is not my life.  I want it back.  And I don't know how to get it.

Reaching Out, Closing In - 2012

I always advised my children that the person you should be with is the one who makes everything better just by being with you.  When the day has been the worse day and you can't wait to go home, knowing that when you are in his arms you will be able to breathe.  And I have been so blessed to have that connection with my husband.  But then why is it when I am afraid, or sad, or worried I turn away?  Instead of wanting his reassurance and compassion, I want distance, retreating to the private place where I can hold all my emotions in.  Is it not having learned to share, or is it fear to trust him and then have him not be there.

It is so unfair to him, I know.  All he wants is to help and I become a tense, angry, impatient woman that he wants to run and hide from.  The very reason to be in a relationship is to not be alone when the world turns upside down.