Monday, March 9, 2009

Alone But Together

I’ve been struggling with writing this next part of our journey because it just brings back sad memories for me.

Here we were in New Orleans – a city that had called to us insistently for two years. We had talked and dreamed about spending a month here – exploring – playing – enjoying. We had planned and poured over information about what to do while we were here and we had vowed we would see as much as possible.

However – at first that didn’t happen.

I love to travel with our little trailer. Not only does it provide a home away from home for me but it also gives me time to spend with The Man. It’s time that I don’t get often and that I long for daily.

These five weeks of holiday were all accumulated overtime for The Man. That meant I spent time alone while he worked – often arriving home after I was in bed. The nights he came home earlier he was often too exhausted to chat and sometimes dragging a handful of words out of him was all I could do.

Our move to a more secluded part of the campground gave us many opportunities to investigate parts of our life that had been left untouched for far too long. It put a huge spotlight on our grief and the fact that we had been avoiding it.

I spent the first night walking the campground in the fog. I followed the shoreline to its furthest point from everyone where I broke down and sobbed. I railed against life and the pain it brings. I railed against whatever entity took my precious Dolly away from me. Why was life like this? Was I always going to have a life of pain and anguish?

When I returned to the trailer, The Man searched my face and tried to find out why I had gone out alone without him but I couldn’t talk about it. In the morning the dam broke and we spent the next two days sequestered in our solitude and talking. With New Orleans at our feet we preferred to stay inside and investigate what was eating away the foundation of our happiness. And it was our grief – a grief that we had not shared completely and that needed to be talked about and dealt with.

Now I consider The Man to be a real man. He is one of two men that I have loved in my life who has never raised a hand to me – never beaten me. He is quiet and sometimes painfully shy and he cries in front of me. Sure he doesn’t do some of the things I ask for but I bet I have many faults too.

And here we were – crying and clinging to each other. Talking about our loss of Dolly and Deeb and how much it hurt us. How he heard her crying in his sleep and how he couldn’t find her or help her. How I couldn’t think of anything else except my loneliness and my loss. Did I judge him for her loss? No. Did I think he could have done more than he did? No. My blame lay elsewhere and always will. But he didn’t know that until I told him. Would we ever be the same again? No never. We had lost our children and the hurt that came with that were two huge holes in our lives.

Still – we had each other. And after two days we emerged. Drained but solid in our relationship and love for each other and for the two we had lost.

New Orleans lay at our feet – waiting. And we were ready to explore it.

20 comments:

menopausaloldbag (MOB) said...

Aw Aims, my heart goes out to you both. Yes he is a real man by being kind and considerate and able to show his emotions in front of you. Thank heavens you have each other. X

Thalia's Child said...

I am so glad you were able to talk out your anguish with one another. You are obviously well matched with each other to come out of this stronger

Akelamalu said...

My mother used to say only real men cry. I'm so pleased you talked and came through the tunnel together. :)

Daryl said...

Oh I am so glad you both washed your eyes and talked it out .. I suspect more talking will still be done ... and now we will get to hear about your explorations in New Orleans, a city you know is close to my heart too

Melanie said...

It's good that you could both talk without the distractions of daily life and routine. I am glad it brought you closer together.

Living the Dream said...

how wonderful you had the space, time and courage to talk to each other. Well done aims, we now look forward to the next few days of your holiday.

Leatherdykeuk said...

How lucky you are to have a partner as steadfast as he.

Thanks for sharing.

Junebug said...

Ahhh. That was a breath of fresh air. Thanks for sharing.

Maggie May said...

Aims..... that was a lovely post. I'm glad that he told you that he was upset too and that he needed to grieve & cry as well. Something shared together like that, is precious.
Hope you are healing together too.

Dr.John said...

Sharing grief is the beginning of healing. Hiding grief lets it fester. It is good that you could both share and heal together.

rosiero said...

It was what you both needed and I am so glad you were able to share your grief together. That's what a partnership is all about....sharing the highs AND lows.

Polergirl said...

Tears are cleansing and healing. Behind every cloud the sun is always shining, and I pray that the clouds will shift and the sun shine down on you once again.

grandmamargie said...

I'm so glad you two had the time and commitment to share your grief with each other. Healing is beginning the long journey with a few short steps which are sometimes the hardest. But you did it. I'm so happy for you.

Mean Mom said...

It's good to share your grief, if you can. That time alone was very well spent and I'm sure that you both felt much better for letting go. I do hope that you had a good time in New Orleans afterwards.

A Mother's Place is in the Wrong said...

How wonderful that you were able to go through that grieving process together. And come out of it feeling closer. You are truly blessed. M xxx

Lane said...

You needed those days. I'm glad it was cleansing for you and brought you even closer together.

distracted by shiny objects said...

What a perfect place to be in to open the gates and let the sadness wash out--a city rising up from its own grief. No wonder it was calling out to you. I would not be surprised if many things there don't resonate with your hearts. Blessings to you both.

Crystal Jigsaw said...

You have to face the bad to move on to the good. You're in my thoughts.

CJ xx

TSannie said...

A good man and a good woman. That's what you two are. And it is wonderful you are part of each other.

travelling, but not in love said...

Aims, sopunds like just what was needed really; And hopefully it allowed you to get on and enjoy the trip. x