Good Monday Mourning!
Loneliness is a strange sort of critter. Not easily described or explained but like one of our supreme court justices once said (referring to porn) "You know it when you see it". I think we have all known times of loneliness in our lives. We are not invited to the PJ party in 4Th grade; our best friend moves away; our kids leave the "nest". These events and many others can bring that vague, unsettling feeling we call "loneliness". Usually it is temporary and given a little time and the natural changes of life we adjust and find new interests to fill the void.
Not so with grief. The loneliness experienced at the death of a loved one is a whole new "animal". I wouldn't believe it to be true if I wasn't smack-dab in the middle of it. It is ... strange.
For instance - just this week I heard myself saying to someone who asked me how I was doing with this "widow thing", "I really hate living alone". Now that's just... strange! Strange because that response is not grounded in reality and as soon as I said it I realized how off base the statement was. The reality is I have never lived alone. Not a single day of my entire life! I went from living at home with my parent to marriage and then after 27 years my husband died. I had 2 children living with me at the time and one of them still lives with me three years later. Add to the mix the reality that my sister moved in with me along with her little dog, Mickey and you see how ridiculous that statement was. I'm not only NOT living alone - I'm surrounded by people and dogs and cats pretty much 24/7. I am not living alone. And yet... it sure feels like it. And there in lies the rub - the strangeness of this thing we call "loneliness". It defies explanation. We've probably all experienced that feeling of being alone in a crowded room. Apparently loneliness has more to do with relationships than it does the number of people in the room.
Grief often brings with it such strong emotions that in their sheer strength can overwhelm our senses and alter our perceptions of truth and reality. The truth is I have never known a single day of aloneness. Grief tells me I am alone and will always be alone and that this loneliness will never, ever go away. Grief lies. My relationship with David has changed forever and that has left me feeling alone and lonely even though I am not alone. I just miss David which is a reasonable reaction but I need to remind myself in the midst of my loneliness that I am not alone. Surrounded by friends and family, carried by God, I am never alone.
Just knowing that grief is prone to emotionally-based feelings not grounded in truth can help us handle the feelings. I corrected myself almost immediately after saying, "I hate living alone". I added, "well, actually, I don't live alone at all. God has surrounded me with family that live with me and care for me every day. I just miss David." Focusing on what we have instead of what we've lost is always a good exercise producing a sense of gratitude and security. It doesn't change the fact that I am lonely and miss my husband. It does keep loneliness from controlling my life. I blame it on the grief. Actually, I blame a lot of things on the grief. I figure I ought to be able to get something beneficial out of this mess.
Next week I'll tell how I've learned to make grief "useful". If you're going to have it hanging around the house you might as well learn how to use it. That's my motto.
See you next week and... don't let the loneliness lie to you.
Karen
Showing posts with label alone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alone. Show all posts
Monday, March 1, 2010
Monday, January 25, 2010
A Good Cry
Good Monday Morning!
I'm taking the "good" on faith. Sometimes Mondays are tough but I'm up and out and sitting at my "table for One" with my pink mini laptop and ready to talk with you.
Something strange happened yesterday. I was in church and had just settled into the pew as the offering plates were being passed. A lady started to sing a song titled "You Alone" which is really lovely and speaks of how in times of trouble God is there to help. He alone is our source of strength. Seems like a very positive and helpful message and I should have rejoiced and maybe even thanked God for His care for me. Instead what I did was totally unexplainable. I started to cry. I don't mean the "tear in the corner of the eye" kind of cry. That would have been OK. I had one of those "cant wipe the tears away fast enough, blow your nose before you make a total fool of yourself" kind of cry. I think it was the word "alone" that slapped me upside the head and caused the sudden flood of sadness. That word was sung at the beginning of each phrase and I found myself feeling quite alone while surrounded by people.
What makes this even stranger is that I have spent most of my adult life sitting alone in church. David (my husband of 27 years) was the door man at the church and rarely sat with me during services. I sat alone and it never caused me to boo-hoo.
The song ended and I managed to pull it together, annoyed with myself and a little startled that the tears flowed so quickly and easily. I looked around the room and started to count the heads of those who, like me, worship alone every week. Over 40% of the worshipers were single adults. Apparently I am not alone in my aloneness.
The sadness left as quick as it came and I went on with my day in relative contentment. Sadness came and then left all in the space of a song. What's all that about???
Well, that's the nature of grief. Just when you think you got the whole thing under control and are "back to normal" a wave of grief will wash over you with the force of a tsunami. I am thankful for the tell-tale signs of progress. The wave swept in and out without leaving an undertow of sadness that lingered for days. I would still like to not cry in public without notice but surely God gave us tears for our own benefit and I did strangly feel better when my little cry was done. Go figure! I said it was strange! This is the nature of grief. Unpredictable and messy. Relentless and unexplainable. I'm doing my best to just deal with it. How about you?
I am thankful for a God who alone is our source of comfort and I ask Him to help me to remember that I am not alone in my aloneness. I am among the 40% of regular church-going adults who are single. I know it seems like the whole world is ordered by married couples and families but the truth is most of us will spend some portion of our days living single. I am just one of them and even in my singleness I am not alone; surrounded by lots of loving friends and family and a God who will never leave me. Now if I could just figure out how to turn off the tears at will...
It's a strange thing. Well, let's get on with the week and do our best and if you feel the need, go ahead and cry. A good cry never hurt anybody and sometimes it even helps.
God bless you.
Karen
I'm taking the "good" on faith. Sometimes Mondays are tough but I'm up and out and sitting at my "table for One" with my pink mini laptop and ready to talk with you.
Something strange happened yesterday. I was in church and had just settled into the pew as the offering plates were being passed. A lady started to sing a song titled "You Alone" which is really lovely and speaks of how in times of trouble God is there to help. He alone is our source of strength. Seems like a very positive and helpful message and I should have rejoiced and maybe even thanked God for His care for me. Instead what I did was totally unexplainable. I started to cry. I don't mean the "tear in the corner of the eye" kind of cry. That would have been OK. I had one of those "cant wipe the tears away fast enough, blow your nose before you make a total fool of yourself" kind of cry. I think it was the word "alone" that slapped me upside the head and caused the sudden flood of sadness. That word was sung at the beginning of each phrase and I found myself feeling quite alone while surrounded by people.
What makes this even stranger is that I have spent most of my adult life sitting alone in church. David (my husband of 27 years) was the door man at the church and rarely sat with me during services. I sat alone and it never caused me to boo-hoo.
The song ended and I managed to pull it together, annoyed with myself and a little startled that the tears flowed so quickly and easily. I looked around the room and started to count the heads of those who, like me, worship alone every week. Over 40% of the worshipers were single adults. Apparently I am not alone in my aloneness.
The sadness left as quick as it came and I went on with my day in relative contentment. Sadness came and then left all in the space of a song. What's all that about???
Well, that's the nature of grief. Just when you think you got the whole thing under control and are "back to normal" a wave of grief will wash over you with the force of a tsunami. I am thankful for the tell-tale signs of progress. The wave swept in and out without leaving an undertow of sadness that lingered for days. I would still like to not cry in public without notice but surely God gave us tears for our own benefit and I did strangly feel better when my little cry was done. Go figure! I said it was strange! This is the nature of grief. Unpredictable and messy. Relentless and unexplainable. I'm doing my best to just deal with it. How about you?
I am thankful for a God who alone is our source of comfort and I ask Him to help me to remember that I am not alone in my aloneness. I am among the 40% of regular church-going adults who are single. I know it seems like the whole world is ordered by married couples and families but the truth is most of us will spend some portion of our days living single. I am just one of them and even in my singleness I am not alone; surrounded by lots of loving friends and family and a God who will never leave me. Now if I could just figure out how to turn off the tears at will...
It's a strange thing. Well, let's get on with the week and do our best and if you feel the need, go ahead and cry. A good cry never hurt anybody and sometimes it even helps.
God bless you.
Karen
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