If anyone had told me a few weeks ago that I would be writing a diary with this title now, I would have rolled my eyes and dismissed them as crazy. I was nowhere near the world of the living. I was in a constant sad, gray, empty place visiting my memories and wondering what was next for me. I never doubted I would again find joy and pleasure in just living, I was just sure it was a long way off. In a year I would make decisions. next summer I might do some of the things I loved. Eventually I would laugh again.
Let me backtrack a little. Julie was amazing. In the outside world she was bigger than life, an amazingly talented musician, photographer, web designer, blogger, teacher and support person, and a geek's geek. She had a quirky, twisted sense of humor that you either loved or just didn't get and a brilliant mind that turned on a dime and got right to the heart of things. At home she was just as funny, just as talented and quirky, but quieter, thoughtful, loving, always supportive and caring, and smart enough to let me burn my energy out without engaging in things that are best left alone. We were together 14 years, lived together almost 12 of those, and married 2 1/2. The last 9 months we learned just how deep our love was, just how far we could go to support one another. There were no words left unsaid, no regrets, no day we didn't share our love, respect, and affection openly. we were lucky in ways that few people are. We found each other (online even) and together we both became more than either of us had been alone. Even in the depths of my sadness I have been incredibly grateful and know just how lucky I am.
The day after she died I couldn't get out of bed in the morning. For the first time in months my day was not already planned. I knew there were a million things to do but I wasn't sure what they were. I wasn't sure who I was anymore. That unanswered question would hover over and around me for months. I had always been a strong, dynamic, fiercely opinionated and independent woman. Suddenly I was small, so small that many friends thought I'd lost weight. I was quiet, uncertain, and constantly sad. I spent my days working through the tasks on a list, trying to sort things out, getting legal things done, wondering how I would pay bills. I started looking for work, but work that would not demand too much from me. I told people I wanted a year to hibernate. Just one year to stay in my cave without dealing with the outside world more than I had to. Birds flew by and I rarely looked up, smiles were rare and laughter just wasn't happening.
There wasn't a single moment when I sensed a change. There was the morning a good friend took me birding and I got out of my own way and enjoyed the birds and the woods and the sheer joy of watching a cuckoo. There was the moment a stranger said something that made me look up, really look up, and actually see another person. There was the realization that life now meant I needed to step up and take charge of my finances, that no one was going to rescue me, this was my life now. There was the job offer from my old employer, the job that meant I would need to reframe my view of myself, to once again own the powerful person I had been. Somewhere in that stretch of time I made a decision, almost without knowing I made it. I had help from unexpected places, a hand reached through the mire and I grabbed it without hesitation. I made a choice to leave the underworld, to walk out of the sad, lonely, dark place I had been in.
The lure of life was strong for me, as it always was for Julie. Our life was filled with life, with joy, with shared and individual passions, with enthusiasm renewed every morning when we woke up. Choosing anything else was never really an option. She left me the incredible gift of knowing absolutely that every single moment I was loved and cherished, that someone else believed in me and in all that I was and could be.
A great relationship creates a center core that strengthens and energizes the partners. That core enables both people to be more than either would have been alone without that well of love and strength to draw from. Julie found stability, a base that enabled her to expand outward and explore her limitless creativity. She found enthusiasm and energy to move through her successes and setbacks. Today I still draw energy from that core. I am braver, stronger, and once again believe in the potential for more joy and life. I will always carry that core, the essence of our relationship, with me and it will push me when I am afraid of the next step.
So I emerged from the darkness and was startled awake, surprised to find myself in my body again and filled with hope and possibilities. I know there will be more journeys under, there will be sad moments and I will feel her loss from my life forever. The constant ache is gone though, replaced with gratitude for all we had, a sense of wonder for all I now know, and the expectation for more of everything. I know my life has plenty of room for more joy, more laughter, more learning, and definitely more love. Thank you Julie, for all the gifts you gave me.
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