"We move on in our own time, in our own ways. There is no cut-off date for grieving or feeling sad. There is no timetable for when to start dating. It’s all about doing what feels right and authentic to whoever you are."
Posted by Adrienne
Gruberg
Adrienne's Journal
It’s five years since Steve died. March 19, 2011 at 6:45p.m. But
who’s counting? Even with five-plus years of anticipatory grieving, when the
real thing comes along, you’re sideswiped.
Every year, at this time, I run the “last days of Steve” scenario
in my head, over and over again. The three weeks leading to his death are still
very much etched in my memory. The quick downward progression. The emergency
room visits. The hospitalizations. No, the end was definitely not fun. It was
an emotional roller coaster that still has me reeling to this day, which is why
I’ve come to limit the days I revisit that time.
But, five years is definitely a milestone. I went from counting
the days, to the weeks, to the months, to the years—it’s amazing that it’s come
to that, since he’s so present in my thoughts and daily routine.
There is life after caregiving. I can attest to that. One month
after he died, I went to open our summerhouse full of its memories—it was a
great space to grieve, reminisce and heal. By the end of the season, I was
ready to take on the mission of creating The Caregiver Space. As tinged with
Steve, illness and melancholy as the task may have been, it was my way of
reinventing myself and getting on with life. Something that began as a
pipe-dream and a way of staying in touch with women who had been in my spousal
care cancer support group, became instead a way of touching all caregivers in
need of emotional support.
So, creating the website was my way out of the darkness and into
the light—the website and Broadway theatre. I’ve never been one who had a
problem doing things alone—restaurants, museums, movies and plays—and I hoped
I’d begin to meet people doing things I like to do—to populate my new life with
people who had common interests. Didn’t happen. But that was never the reason
for going out. I relish cultural expeditions on my own. It was getting to be
the time, however, for me to “fish or cut bait,” so to speak. I was, much to my
surprise, ready to date.
Well, I
had a few bites but nothing that intrigued me—so I started prospecting myself.
It sort of felt like “Goldilocks”; this man was too short, that man lived too
far away and eventually I found someone who was just right. Steve had let me
know he wanted me to find someone to be with after he was gone—but he had his
list of people I could not date. What’s really funny is that the first two
people who were “suggested matches” for me in my daily notifications were on
his list of candidates not to date. And I was going to respect his wishes.
My capacity for reading people paid off. I’ve been dating the
first man I went out with—someone I found for myself—for almost two-and-a-half
years. I DO know myself and have learned to set boundaries in my life. I’m not
a kid anymore. I’ve learned to make my feelings known. After years of
caregiving and what sometimes felt like bowing to my husband’s every whim, what
“I” wanted was paramount; being direct, honest and caring has allowed me to be
in a loving relationship where my limits and my person are respected.
In no way do I feel disloyal to Steve or his memory. My
“boyfriend” (in quotes because it feels so silly saying girlfriend or boyfriend
when we’re both over 65) lets me speak about my past. There are photos of Steve
everywhere and that’s fine and how it should be.I was with Steve for over
thirty-five years—he is still a big part of my life—and he still comes up in
conversations with people who knew him. There’s no way I could be with someone
who didn’t understand that.
Moving on doesn’t mean you have to leave your past behind
you—sometimes I feel mine is like a friendly, cozy, favorite sweater I wear
that keeps me safe and grounded. It’s made me who I am. Your past is part of
who you are. It doesn’t go away. Carrying it around with you is unavoidable.
We move on in our own time, in our own ways.
There is no cut-off date for grieving or feeling sad. There is no timetable for
when to start dating. It’s all about doing what feels right and authentic to
whoever you are. If you stay honest with yourself, you’ll know what to do when.
It’s all about being an individual again vs. part of a unit. Find your new
comfort zone—sometimes it’ll be just a little out of your old comfort zone. Be
brave. Be happy.
Bloggers Note: I have joined the group http://thecaregiverspace.org/ I strongly endorse this resource for all providing caregiving to a loved one, a friend or as a professional.
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