Last week we published ‘Pain: a 3 part harmony’ part one:  read Kylie’s thoughts and experiences. . This article looked at emotional pain. Today we are

Continuing the Journey…with yet another look at emotional pain.

PAIN: Part 2: Soliloquy

Tammy Curry shared her sudden sad news here. Read what happened next.

SOME DAYS, moments even, it is hard to see how I can continue with the dream my husband and I created without him by my side. I have lost other loved ones in the past but the loss of my soul mate, the other half of me has left a whole in my heart that will never completely close. One day maybe it won’t hurt quite as much but right now it feels as though the center of my universe has collapsed.

The first few weeks presented challenges that have felt so overwhelming I didn’t think I could move forward. I know I am a capable woman and I can do so much on my own but after fifteen years of having a partner to share it all with I felt helpless and the tasks at hand were daunting.

The first week after my husband passed I was in a fog, thankful for my family that traveled over 20 hours to be here. Thankful for my dad who rushed to be my side and one of my best friends who rushed over after a hysterical midnight call. My other best friend who showed up pre-dawn in the rain to just sit with me and listen to my mindless rambles.

{The second week, my dad put his own health at risk for us. He had rescheduled important doctor appointments and put my house in order while I came down with the flu. The children and daddy all came down with it. Stubborn his only intent at the time was to take care of us and refused to seek treatment for himself.

Daddy’s just have that special way of loving you and making you angry all at the same time. Something I feel everyday that my children will miss out on now.}

Honestly though those first 48 hours are a blur. I can mechanically recount the events of the night he passed though it seems to feel like pouring salt into an open wound. I was nowhere near prepared for this loss. Even if I had been or a thousand other would have, should have, could have and didn’t scenarios I don’t think the loss would be any less. Maybe a little bit more prepared but a part of my heart would have still been ripped from my chest.

Watching and Waiting

The only thing that I can say is it has been like an outer body experience, watching and waiting for him to come home. When I can sleep I awaken thinking that I will see him laying next to me watching me sleep. I have been watching my children deal with their grief, trying to comfort them and reassure them that life will go on and that we need to be apart of that life.

I have watched our newly planted garden beds wither away. Yet, some of the fresh young greens have continued to flourish. I have looked over all our started projects waiting for them to magically complete themselves. I have been watching and waiting to wake from a nightmare.

Listening music, which has been such a large part of our lives, is painful. Though slowly I can listen to music now and think about happy times and things. I cry and probably will for a while over numerous songs as I recall why they become favorites or why they had become significant in our relationship. I laugh now too about leaving a CD set to a certain song in the car when I got home from work so that he heard it when he got in the car to leave for his job.

I have been watching and waiting for things, these last three weeks, to just fall into place. Waiting for, I am not sure what, his voice coming from outside calling me to show me the latest project he has completed for me. Wondering was he really interested in becoming a farmer or was it just something he was doing because it made me happy. Honestly I think it was more the latter than the former.

I think I have been waiting for him to tell me to wake up and get the day started. I do remember promising him one beautiful night sitting up under the Roanoke Star on Mill Mountain, that if something were to ever happen I would go on living, not just existing but I would continue with whatever plans we had made.

Pushing Forward

Later things seemed to even out a bit, there are still moments of sadness and tears that need to flow. It just hits at odd times, such as when I am working on a project and see it come together as we had pictured it would. Be it raised garden beds or something the children accomplish. The first thing I want to do is tell him. What I am doing is writing him letters every night about our day. Sharing with him still the good, the bad, the ugly and the indifferent. It helps to exonerate those feelings of sadness and guilt.

The “experts” will tell you not to make any large decisions while you are in the middle of emotional turmoil. Well, sometimes there is no choice but to move forward and make those decisions. Such as deciding to return to home-schooling completely instead of using one of the state’s virtual public schools to help with curriculum. Deciding how I was going to handle running our homestead, was I going to continue moving forward or just let it go and have a few raised beds and find a “real” job. I decided to push forward and continue our dream.

We wanted our homestead to be sustainable and support us, so it needs to be run as a full-time business. So I have pulled out our business plan and readjusted it to that we can move forward. At first the whole place resembled our emotional state. Everything was falling apart, seedlings we had been so happy about died, the house, the property, everything was in a shambles.

We started off struggling to survive moment to moment. We have figured out that we need to do more than just survive, we need to live our lives as he would have wanted us to. I had promised him years ago that if something were to happen to him I would go on and live my life not wither away and die. To that end I try everyday to move forward to build the home and life for our children that we had dreamed of over the years.

I have shown a strong face to the world, except in those few rare moments where emotions have overwhelmed me. I have let my children see me cry and grieve so that they would know it is ok for them to do so as well. We have laughed, cried and gotten lost together. There is a long road ahead for us in creating our little homestead. We will travel it together and learn to support each other and to reach out and ask for help. Part of becoming self-sufficient is learning to ask for help or so I am learning.

I want to say thank you to Jane, our editor, for her support and encouragement. The beautiful note she added to my first article here on A string of Pearls made me cry, not with grief but with happiness that I had made such an endearing friend on the other side of the world in such a short time frame. Some how she managed to crawl inside my head, I think I forgot to give her the usual warning about how dark and dangerous that can be, I am a bit twisted after all. Really who decides to become a farmer these days, much less a writer whose focus is farming and sustainable living.

Sustainable living for me is taking on a new meaning. It isn’t only about being green, growing our own food and such buzz terms. It is about entering a new chapter in my life as a widowed, single mom with 3 heathens to raise and nurture. Emphasis on nurture mind you, kids will grow all on their own. Our journey isn’t over, it is just growing in its dynamics. While we may slow down a bit until we have our feet totally back up under us, we are definitely moving forward. I will be sharing our lives as we move in to the future. The triumphs, the road bumps, the good, the bad and the ugly. Sustainable living for me is really about living and embracing life.

Light, Love and Peace.

You can find me on the web chatting away on:

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Tammy, Thankyou for sharing this very personal experience with us.

Have you walked the path Tammy is now on? What helped you?

Part 3 in this series will focus on physical pain.Until then…

Thinking of you. ♥ Jane