A Third Installment in the Therapeutic Series of Written Word Art in dealing with Loss. The following two pieces on Grief and Healing were written by Janie Bloomer. She had this to say as an introduction:
I lost my partner of 36 years when she died 3-1-2020. These are a sample of some of the things I have written on grief. I don’t want to come across as an expert, because these are just my feelings at the time. Most of what I know has been learned through the mentorship of my grief counselor, Diana Cuddeback, and Megan Devine’s book, “It’s OK That You’re Not OK”. I write what I feel as I’m living this nightmare called Grief. Not only is writing therapeutic for me, but If I can help someone else who is grieving, all the better.
Janie Bloomer, A Heartlinks Griever
Heartlinks Grief Center – MyHeartLinks.com
When you say you can’t do something,
It means one of three things:
You don’t want to, you don’t know how,
Or a combination of the two.
If you can’t go on living without your loved one,
That could be a combination of not wanting to
And not knowing how,
Depending on how long you’ve been together.
It’s possible that you have focused just on each other
And estranged yourselves from friends and family.
You can’t imagine life without their presence,
Their touch, their love.
You can’t perform some of the mundane tasks
That were your loved one’s responsibilities,
Such as changing the furnace filter or replacing the smoke alarm batteries.
But you will figure it out so you know how next time.
You can’t seem to ask for help
Because you and your loved one have always been self sufficient.
But some support people in your tribe are “doers”
And are just waiting to be asked to assist you.
If you can’t find purpose in your altered life that lies ahead,
It’s undoubtedly because you were content
And don’t want to explore new possibilities.
You want your old life back, before your loved one was taken from you.
Living within your grief is excrutiatingly hard,
And at times, you will think you can’t do it.
But if you are brave and step off your well-worn path,
You will find that you can and will learn how.
I wish I’d taken time to say
How much I loved her every day.
The house, the bills, and come what may –
The daily grind got in the way.
Recalling what my father said
When things get hard inside my head,
I keep in mind that from the start
“We’re too soon old and too late smart.”
If I could live my life again
I’d be so patient, especially when
She repeats herself or doesn’t know
Where the cereal and the dishes go.
She didn’t want to lose her mind
Or memories she’d never find.
“I’ll take you home, my child,” God said,
And cancer took her life instead.
The best part of my life was her.
It went so fast; it’s all a blur.
I take her with me all the time,
I have her love, and she has mine.