The death of someone instrumental in our lives instantly changes our view of the world. Ordinary things are suddenly fraught with meaning, and insignificant moments become unexpectedly precious. After my husband Phil’s death I remember thinking that grief swooped in and stole my rose colored glasses…leaving me with a pair of dark shades instead.
This darker world view made every life celebration bittersweet…or sometimes just plain bitter. Movies became minefields, attending weddings became tortuous, walking down the street beside hand holding couples made me feel nauseous, and stopping for lunch alone during my workday often reduced me to tears. While grey was the dominant color in my life I generally felt either sad or numb, with not much in between. Sometimes when a bit of color would filter through the haze (a flash of genuine happiness for example), I felt almost burned. My immediate reaction to light became turning away from the source, and pulling my new shades down over my eyes to keep the world in a comfortable state of darkness.
I can’t tell you exactly when my shades started allowing the penetration of light…but they did. One day I genuinely smiled. Another day I laughed so hard that my sides hurt. Every now and then I could walk down the street without counting the couples I passed; lunchtime alone became time to catch up on some reading; I even went to a wedding and found myself caught up in the love of the moment instead of listening to the voice in my head detailing the ways that death may these two part. The moment I realized that I sat through a wedding without the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth, I knew that the gloom was finally lifting. Continue reading »
