guilt

Facing My Fears….A Trip Back

Randy MannLeave a comment

It was the trip I didn’t know how to process. I was flying back to the place that give me happiness with my career and most importantly, my wife, Sally, who passed away from cancer last year. I sold my house, and relocated, at least for the time-being, to the area I grew up. This is now my safe place.

I arrived in Idaho the previous evening and one of the first things I did was to call friends and family to calm me down and assure he I am doing the right thing. Thoughts were racing to just repack and go to the airport and head back to the sanctuary of where my family and friends reside. No one was available to take my calls. You can only imagine the craziness in  my head.

We’ll, I did set up business and personal meetings, so I needed to do this. Prior to this trip, my emotions were all over the place. The ups and downs were making things even harder as I’ve passed 10 months. I keep blaming the ups and downs on the impending 1-year anniversary since her passing, which is coming fast.

I was afraid of the reminders, the memories, the guilt of going on, and so forth of being back to Idaho. But, I faced my fears and went to the places that made my life so good on my first full day.  Honestly, instead of experiencing the overwhelming sadness, which I thought I would get, I remembered the joy and wonderful times we had. The people I had left behind seemed very glad to see me and I was great to see them.

I even visited Sally’s old work place. I still see her behind the cosmetic counter helping everyone who needed it. Her workplace and even the customers miss her too. She obviously left a big impression on this area as well.

Continuing down this path, I realize there are no rules and no time limits on this grieving process. Everyone is different and what we do may be different. And, sometimes, we have to do different things, even when others don’t get what you’re doing. I’m slowly learning that it’s okay to feel a little joy, at least once in a while. But, this is going to be a long journey with more ups and downs. I miss Sally every single moment.

In just a short time back in Idaho, I learned a great deal, more than I bargained for. Sitting here writing this, I do feel a sense of pride and I think my adorable wife, Sally, would be proud as well.

Coping With Survivor’s Guilt

Randy MannLeave a comment

I managed to get through one of the “big dates” of my wife’s passing. March 24 would have been our 34th year together. It feels like you’re standing and cringing as that date approaches. How bad will the first one feel? Who will I get through the day?

The day started off as expected, emotional. But, friends and family came through and helped out, for which I’m extremely grateful. It would have been so easy for me to just stay in bed.

This first wedding anniversary without her made me realize the grief and guilt will not be going away soon. I fully admit that “survivor’s guilt” is a part of the pain and sickness in my gut.

Those two little words, “what if,” still run through my head. A lot of my guilt stems from not forcing my wife, Sally, to go to the doctor, just for annual checkups with she turned 50. I get it when I hear the saying, “you can force a horse to water, but can’t make it drink.” Still, I can’t help but wonder.

For a long time, she was healthier than me. Sally worked out on the elliptical in a room in our house. Her job required her to be on her feet all day long. She ate well, much better than me. Honestly, I set up our insurance and future based on the fact that I would be the one that would leave first. Life threw me and everyone else a massive “blindside.”

The thought that goes through my head is that if I would have been more persistent, this cancer could have been caught early and things would be different. My sister, who is a doctor, tells me that this type of cancer would have likely not made that much difference in terms of the outcome. Logically, I understand. Emotionally, that’s a different story.

I’ll never know if things would have been different. Perhaps not knowing allowed us to live life to its more fullest. We traveled a lot the few years prior to her diagnosis. Maybe her “quality of life” would have been far worse if we did know and went through the long and painful treatments. Regardless, I still wonder “what if.”

This process of grief is relentless. You can run, but you can’t hide. One of the steps I’m trying to work on is “forgiveness,” especially for myself. It’s far from easy. Happiness is something I don’t feel entitled to, at least not now. It’s a matter of trying to be “less sad.”

But, I try to press onward with each day. I try my best to be functional. Making plans for one, two or many months down the road is hard. However, I do make them, just to get some sort of sanity.

Now, I will be bracing for the next two days, her birthday and the one of her passing. I already know the road coming is going to be rough. Again, I’m doing my best.