by Laura Crum
This is going to be a short, sad, somewhat bitter, and unsettling random post. Don’t read it if you don’t like the sound of that.
Since my husband died I have had so many people talk/write to me about how they can’t imagine what I’m going through, and referring to my “unimaginable” loss. I know they mean well. But lately a certain bitter truth keeps trying to jump out of my mouth. So here goes.
Imagine it, people. Because you will be faced with it. If you love someone, either you or that someone will inevitably be facing what I am facing now—some day or other. The pain of loss is part of this mortal life. Most of us have lost loved dogs and horses and understand that grief. But some day you will lose your husband or wife or child or much-loved person of some sort, and/or they will lose you, and this pain will be your/their lot, as it is now my lot.
I’m not sure why I want to say this. I only know that it keeps coming up for me, so I decided to put it out there. I loved and still love my husband very much. I always understood that death is part of life. I’m coping with the pain as well as I can, doing the things that need to be done so my son’s life and our critter’s lives can go on. I think it would be even worse for me if I had somehow been blind to this inevitable ending of the mortal life and felt unjustly cheated. As if my husband wasn’t supposed to die.
But I know that we all die. And none of us know when we will die. We, or our loved others, could die tomorrow. Including our much-loved horses and dogs and cats. This is the way it is. Best to be clear. Possibly best if you imagine it ahead of time. Because Andy and I did some practical things based on our clarity that we might die that are definitely a help to me now. And, as I said, despite how desperately I miss him, I am spared that angry, I’ve-been-cheated feeling. Because I did and do understand that we are not in any way guaranteed any special length of life. I am grateful for the years we had together. I am grateful for the happiness we shared and the family we became. I will allways love him. I will always miss him. I truly believe his spirit watches over me and our son. And death is part of life. So imagine it.