Only in film is death ever tidy or over with the funeral. It takes a long time to come to terms with such a major loss. Be gentle on yourself.
But I have to say that my Wonder Woman tin would kick Darth Vadar's vinyl-wearing ass.
I know everyone's already said what there is to say (I can't read the comments because I'll start crying) but what you're feeling is completely normal. It's like you wake up in the morning and there's a millisecond before you REMEMBER and then your heart sinks and it's hard to breathe. We're here for you, girl. XOXOXOXOXO
Whatever you need to write or not, we are here.
xo
So many people here understand what you're going through. No one could be unaffected unless the person they lost was a royal pain or a wife beater. Then you'd be glad. Otherwise we all suffer the same.
I remember my aunt at my mom's funeral noticing that it was a beautiful day. It made her start crying again, like how could it be such a lovely day when her sister was dead.
Now I'm going to make myself cry again. Glad to read your posts when ever you get them here, and love the darth Vader tin. Put some cookies in it. Tracy
Hugging you.....
Talk, and talk...and talk some more.
Rick was a part of you, and of course you need to talk about it ...you are woman? it is what we do. kvetch on..
we are here..we listen...
So what are you keeping in your Darth Vader Tin?
I imagine that there are a couple of cultures - maybe war-torn areas or those living in poverty and sickness - where people may FORCE themselves to just carry on as if a loved one's death isn't a huge black hole that consumes your thoughts and energy; however, humans are humans. I don't think any of us are actually wired to easily let go of someone we love.
Even in cases like my grandpa, who had Alzheimers (Alzheimer's?), a few of his kids (and I) got their grieving done while he was still alive. The pain was the same, pretty much, since the guy who was left wasn't the same one who raised us or loved us, you know? He was already "gone". When he finally did die, everyone dealt with it differently. I was just in high school, so I didn't have to be on the front lines with the funeral planning, which meant that it was just an awkward time during which I kind of floated around in a cloud of weepy people dressed in black. On the one hand, funerals for ANYONE can be difficult. On the other, this wasn't sudden or unexpected, so I was confused about some people's reactions. I came away from the experience with a realization that no one can predict grief even if you can expect death.
Also, that every time someone dies, I will catch a cold. It's inevitable with all the hugging and touching and Kleenex.
Starwars geek. I almost got Jack a stormpooper shirt.
I know. I know. Word of advice... people don't take kindly when they're offering condolences and you ask them what the fuck do they know about it. Not that I would have done that to anyone. :D Nor do they like being told to get their happy asses out of your face.
I had some anger issues.
I don't think we're so much insulated from death is that if it hasn't happened to us, it's just not on our radar. And it's both supremely ordinary and earth shattering.
Talk away. Who better to tell Rick and your story?
Your friends who left comments are amazing!
I laughed when you wrote joyful posts while Rick was alive. I was worried when he was sick and so sad when he died. I will smile when you tell stories of your love, and I will cry again when you write about your sadness. If you don't want to write that's okay (I don't mass share anything, as you know.) Sharing your story is up to you. Know you are cared, if that's any help.
Mmmm on the Darth Vader Tin. I had a ceramic Dalek cookie jar on my cupboard for months, nay years, until I got sick of supergluing the plunger back on.
Telling the story heals the soul. Talk as much or as little as you want. We're all hear to listen.
xo
I remember going to the grocery store after my mom had died. I stood in the middle of that store, watching the people. They were shopping and talking and laughing and just going about their lives. And I wanted to shout at all of them to just STOP because didn't they know my mom had died? It was a very lonely feeling.
I guess I'm telling you this because I want you to know that you're not alone. I'm thinking about you. We're all thinking about you.
My father died suddenly, but not unexpectedly, when I was in my 20's. One of the things I remember most from that time was the evening after his funeral when most of the relatives and friends had gone home.
My Mom and siblings were all gathered around a fire in our backyard (we did that a lot at family gatherings) and all of a sudden Mom, who had been fairly quiet, started telling stories about Dad, about how they met, what their wedding was like, the early years of their marriage. It wasn't something she'd ever talked about much before and we felt it was a gift to us.
So feel free to talk about Rick here all you want, Carrie.
I was just thinking about you today so I so happy to see your post. That silky wool is lovely and the Darth Vader tin way cool! Hugs.
Carrie, I'm new here (sent by Lene a while back) so not sure if I've got a vote, but if I do you go ahead and say or don't say what-ev-ah. Am willing to bet all who read here and care about you will happily be here with you through it all. And yeah, after the death of a beloved 'normal' becomes rather surreal from time to time.
Please, keep on talking. It is your gift to us, not the other way around. We are, as a society, very insulated from death, as if it and the feelings of those left behind were something unnatural. Let us be here for you. It is where we want to be.
Carrie, I have lost my sister and two of my best friends and it struck me how merely mortal we all are because the world indeed goes on, without a skip. It struck me at the same time, that when famous people die life goes on without a bleep but it doesn't really affect me so the bleep/blip is inconsequential. Your life will never be the same; for both the good of Rick having been in it and because you lost him - and way too early. I would love to hear stories; it is the everyday things we miss (my sister would call me just about everyday or sometimes twice a day and I still miss those calls), it is part of the salve to share that with others. Good for you on the applique (do what makes you feel good) and I love the sweater - it may not take as long as you think. Hold each day as it comes and breathe knowing that those two little children you are raising will appreciate your remembrance and love for their father. I think about you every day.
yes, what they said: Talk to us. We're here to listen. XO
The brother of a friend of mine lost his wife to cancer 15 years ago. By the time she died, he was a little relieved, it was horrible at the end. He went on to move closer to his family, raise his three kids (8, 10 & 12 at the time), change jobs a few times, date, almost remarry and then not. He didn't talk much about his wife and people worried about him and then stopped because he seemed fine.
A few weeks ago, his son got married. In the middle of the reception he burst into unconsolable tears, 15 years worth, all because the band played "their song". He's told his sisters that he didn't realize until that moment that he was allowed to feel both sad about his loss and happy about his life, he was so busy making sure that his kids went on that he let himself stay stuck in the numb part of the loss.
Deal with it however you think best, don't beat yourself up if you are too sad or too happy. And I think talking to him is lovely, that is what I would want.
And, yay for using the Silky Wool, the real color is much better.
xo
Hi Carrie- I've got nothing when it comes to "been there done that" to offer but I am very glad for this post.
In addition to being insulated, I think we are also trained (is it human nature?) to keep on going on and never talk about what's really there just waiting to happen. Maybe because we so much desire the control we feel when we avoid the reality.
What a treasure your thoughts are (in spite of the tragedy that caused them) Thanks for sharing and I hope you'll keep doing it- whatever you want and whenever you want.
And as for the other thing, I think you're right. I have a friend in France whose 14-yr.-old son went off to Saudi Arabia or some such last year for judo camp and I thought, "Wow. Americans would never do that." I think we are insulated (by virtue of geography, philosophy..) from any number of things.
Uhm, if I am not a cautionary tale in the respect that "smaller" does not necessarily mean that sweaters get finished more quickly, then what good am I to you?
I think we (we being...Americans? Westerners? First world countries? Not sure...) are terribly insulated from death. So much of what we do is - directly or indirectly - trying to outrun death, and fooling ourselves into thinking that we CAN. We struggle to exert so much control over our lives, and we get to thinking that death is something that happens to other people...and, of course, in the end no one gets out of here alive.
And, by all means darling, talk about him. Sing about him, if you want to. This is YOUR blog, and we're here because we want to read anything you've got to say.
Carrie, you're not at all 'off' in your thinking, feelings, and yeah, the earthquake? We all felt it too.
and ditto what Cindy wrote, every bit of it. I'd love to hear Rick stories.
I'm glad to see you having a long haul project on the needles, I was going to write you and make a suggestion for one, one that would be very special for you. If you're interested drop me a line.
XOXOX
Talk to us about Rick. It's important. You need to keep his memory alive and we'll listen. Tell us stories. It's fine. I'd love to know them. Each death is unique. We react differently to each one, but Rick's was sudden and unexpected. You feel like he should come in the door and then everything will be fine. Talk to us. Don't shut down. That's bad. Been there, done that and do NOT recommend it. And, I love the Darth Vader tin. That is too cool. It's a good cookie size, too.
Honey, it's your blog. You talk about whatever you want. We'll still be here. It's not like we're wandering off now, FFS.
I love that tin. Although, I still worry about you and that quilting.
Oh, and add me to that list of knitters who need to be smaller before sweaters happen. Yeesh!
xo
I had the same (?) feeling of isolation when my dad died. It was really odd that daily happenings kept on happening when it was obvious to me that the world was completely different. It still is different two years later but the physical effects are gone, the emotional pain is pretty muted now, and I'm able to function as well as I used to for daily living even though there's a hole in my heart. I don't want to think about losing Dan. So, go ahead and talk about Rick or whatever you want.
Oops - I meant Star TREK. Star TREK. I got all excited by seeing Darth Vader.
You can talk about Rick as much as you want HERE. We won't mind.
Love that cardigan - how did I miss that pattern?
And the Star Wars tin is awesome. I had my own tiny Star Wars moment this morning. I was looking for a space in an ever-crowded parking lot, and was thinking "Parking Lot: The Search for Spot". Guess that's what I get for watching the latest Star Wars again last night.
I felt a bit like that when I found out my father was in the hospital and diagnosed with inoperble cancer. I was in Fort Worth on a business trip and got a phone call from my husband, saying tht I needed to come home because Dad was not expected to live. (He died 5 days later.) All the way home on the plane I felt like I needed to stand up and announce, "My father is dying."
That B-side is a really nice sweater. (I love cables.) And I hear ya about needing to get smaller if I want to have hand-knit garments bigger than socks or a scarf...
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