Year: 2014

The pain of losing a Claire seems so massive at the moment, I’m hoping that listing the reasons why would help myself to understand them better and perhaps help others to also.

Losing a life partner is like losing part of yourself.

When we got married I gave myself so entirely and completely to Claire, I gave up my right to being an individual, two people became one. Without her here it feels as though one of my major organs is not functioning properly and that I am chronically ill in some way.

Making decisions.

When you lose a life partner you lose part of your decision-making process. We made decisions together, even if it wasn’t an explicit joint decision it was always a joint decision nonetheless. If I wanted something to happen I would hint about it to Claire, she would then let me know if she agreed… And so the joint decision was made. Nothing explicit, everything implied, we just knew.

Off loading.

At the end of the day we used to tell each other what had happened, the good, the bad and the ugly. It was a coping strategy, after all, a problem shared is a problem halved! It was the way that we finished the day, the day always finished by sharing what had happened, enjoying the good things and resolving the bad things. Without her here that resolution is harder to reach.

Enjoying the good things.

When you have a life partner part of your strategy for enjoying things is to share with that person. If you see a beautiful sunset or taste a glorious bottle of red wine it always seems that much better when you share it with the person you have given your life to, so when that person is taken away from you your ability to enjoy those things declines.

Referencing.

Many people are either internally referenced or externally referenced. This means that they either intrinsically know that a decision they have made is a good one, or they need external verification from other people. Highly successful business people are often internally referenced, they just know they are brilliant and don’t need anyone to tell them. Well I was ‘Claire’ referenced. Yes, I know strictly speaking that is being externally referenced, but it is linked to a specific person. If I was a little unsure about what I was doing, whether it be in business or life I would ask Claire. She would be my barometer, and if the barometer pointed in a negative direction it meant I had to stop and vice versa. Without her I have no idea if I’m doing the right thing.

For everything that we do in life we have a strategy, we have a strategy for making decisions, coping at the end of the day, enjoying things, resolving things plus thousands more. When you give yourself so totally to another person your strategies for life become intertwined, so when that person is taken away it leaves you almost unable to function. When you live with someone for 22 years they become part of you, they become who you are and when they die it challenges you in absolutely every aspect of your life. I have been challenged over these past nine months and I continue to be so more than ever.

I think it’s quite natural to grieve for the past and all that we had when we have lost someone so close. We think about the happy memories, the times we enjoyed together, the impact we had on each other’s lives and the fact that all of that is gone. For the past nine months the past is the direction I have been facing, all of my emotions have been focused on what I’ve lost.

The revelation I had last night was that I’ve turned a corner, I’m still painfully aware of the past but I’m now looking to the future.

The problem is that the future seems quite grim at the moment. It seems dark, cold, lonely and empty.

I’ve been struggling with these emotions over the past few days and now I can see why, I have dared for the first time to consider my future.

And whilst I feel at the depth of my loneliness when I look to the future I know that this is actually a good thing. I know that I have turned a corner, I have begun to consider my future which is a positive step. Dwelling and wallowing in the past won’t allow me to move onwards, although right at the moment that first step onwards seems rather unattractive.

Dwelling on the past has served me well up until this point, I guess I have become used to it. Looking to the future is a far more painful experience right at the moment, but I know that deep within me things will be okay. I know that looking to the future is the right thing to do and I know that, in time, the heavy weight of loneliness, which seems to stretch in front of me, will lift also.

Sometimes it’s simpler to take the easy option, it’s simpler to remain focused on the past… Even though it’s painful to think of what I’ve lost it’s easier than thinking about the future.

Beginning to consider my future is the most painful thing I’ve experienced since actually losing Claire. The temptation to remain in the past is immense, it’s painful there but familiar, so it’s safe. All I need to do is keep going, keep facing the same way and accept that the pain of uncertainty about the future will allow me to experience the emotions even more when it lifts.

I saw this on Facebook yesterday, it was shared by a couple of friends that I have made who have also recently lost their partners. It really is quite moving.

“Grief can destroy you –or focus you. You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone. OR you can realize that every moment of it had more meaning than you dared to recognize at the time, so much meaning it scared you, so you just lived, just took for granted the love and laughter of each day, and didn’t allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it.

But when it’s over and you’re alone, you begin to see that it wasn’t just a movie and a dinner together, not just watching sunsets together, not just scrubbing a floor or washing dishes together or worrying over a high electric bill. It was everything, it was the why of life, every event and precious moment of it. The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can’t get off your knees for a long time, you’re driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss. And the ache is always there, but one day not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life.”

― Dean Koontz, Odd Hours

When I read this section “… you’re driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss” it reduced me to tears. I’m not ashamed to admit that I have not had a good time for a couple of days, I’ve felt confused, lost and bewildered. But things are settling now a little and clarity is starting to appear.

I re-read some of my old blog posts last night and one of them stood out, a post where I was talking about my reason for living. Looking to the future can seem so bleak with the loneliness and loss being so huge and sometimes it seems like a struggle to keep going, what reason do I have?

And then the reason becomes clear, the reason is Claire. (oh yes, the fact that the Latin meaning of the name Claire is ‘clear and bright‘ is not lost on me)

I truly am reduced to my knees, not only because of the loss of Claire but by the gratitude for the 28 years we shared together. When I think about all of those years it makes me want to shout in gratitude, to dance around like an idiot, to scream from the top of my lungs about how good our relationship was. It’s those emotions that make things so tough and yet conversely give me a reason to go on.

Those emotions are the life taker and the life giver at the same time, all I have to do is choose which one they are going to be – it’s all a matter of perspective.