Saturday, September 4, 2010

Racking Sobs

I thought the days of racking sobs were behind me.

For a week or so now when I cry tears would just roll down my face. The physical sobbing and shaking was gone. It was like my body just could only do so much.

Not so.

Today for whatever reason (do I need a reason?) the racking, gut wrenching sobs came back. It started in the shower. In full force. And lasted for hours.

A new little treat that was added today was vomiting. For the first few days after TBHITW died every night I would wake up in the middle of the night and vomit. It was like my body was trying to purge itself of this evil poison bestowed on me.

Today it all came back. All morning long. And into the afternoon. And now, late evening, it has returned.

When does the pain stop?
I am giving this everything I have. I am trying to remember all the good and blessed and wonderful and smiling times we had.
I am. I really am.
Harder than I've ever tried anything before in my life.
But give me a clue someone. When does my stomach and head and heart stop hurting?
Can someone just tell me when the pain stops?

My sister dreamt of him again the other night. She said,

"He was sitting in the play room, playing a game on her son's playstation. She said to him, 'you're not real, you're dead' and he said, 'I'm real'. And she repeated to him, no, you're dead. To which he replied, no, I'm right here. I'm real. You can touch me if you want.' And she touched him. And he was real.


  1. Oh darlin', the pain will become tolerable. I can't lie and say it will stop. It's an amputation; a terrible, horrible amputation. But it will get 'better'. You will smile in your heart again. You will. Just hold on. As Jim would say, "on, on".


  2. My grandmother used to say (in reference to losing her child) that grief is like a rainstorm. In the beginning, it is a hurricane whipping you from all sides. But eventually it ebs and eases, and at some point becomes more gentle, like a mist. And it can build again and come down hard, and eases again, always there but not always as brutal.

    You are in the darkest part of the storm, and really, the only way out is one breath at a time. Find someone you trust to lean on, and then lean.

    My thoughts are with you...

  3. I don't think there is anything to say except to go at it at your own pace and timing. Know we are here for you.

  4. Oh, I'm so very, very sorry...I didn't realize...I've missed so much, it seems. My heart is so with you...grief is a horrible and long journey...(but it does get better with every step...) I will pray and pray for your comfort...I wish there were more I could do. I wish I could give you a hug. But please know my thoughts are with you...and that I would give you a should to cry on if I could. I'm just so very, very sorry!! Sending you much love, Janine XO

  5. I think Pia's grandmother was right..just like a the ocean on a can be violent leave and come back...There is nothing anyone can do..but weather that storm...hold on...the vomiting is just the body...reacting to your souls pain..pray and let your faith whatever it may be, be you lifeline and anchor..just hold on and know it will not be like this always...I send you love. Marlene

  6. Yes, as Jim would say, on, on. I have absolutely no doubt that he misses you but wants you to smile again and find happiness and I pray you will. Sure it will take time but with friends hopefully it won't hurt unbearably.

  7. Sometimes pain is a tool that allows us to keep people close to our hearts. If you felt no pain then your memories would not be as important. The pain will never go away, but it will become more manageable over time. It is okay to cry and sob, it is all part of the process.

  8. I haven't experienced a loss such as this but my heart goes out to you. Of course you don't want to have to feel the pain. Please take care of yourself the best way you can.

  9. My heart goes out to you, dear friend. Each day when I wake up, I give all of my grief to the Lord, and pray that He will give me the strength to get through this day. And He does, one day at a time. That is how I manage to go on. On, on. Keeping you in my prayers. Love, Marguerite

  10. From what I know of your words, I do love you, dearly.

    You are kind, gracious, and an excellent cook.
    I hope you can feel my love miles and miles away and I hope it can lift you up, even if it is just an inch.

  11. I am so very sorry - trite, I know. But I am. I just cannot imagine... please hang in there.

    I dreamt about him, too. We were all together, you, Jim, my husband and I. We had just attended some kind of function and decided to have dinner together - I was cooking. It was a very nice dream - exactly like I can imagine it being in "real" life, only the faces were obscured.

    Please hang in there...

  12. There are no words. I am thinking of you and hoping that each day brings more peace than the one before.

  13. I asked the same question once. And a very wise man said to me, "You'll know you're getting there when you don't fear the pain anymore. You just accept it. And one day, you wake up and realize you haven't thought about it for a couple days." It ebbs and flows. I haven't cried like that for about a year now. At least over him. You are doing the only things you know what to do. He is with you. I promise you that.

  14. Someday. Someday it will not feel like acid eating you from the inside out. Someday... you are just beginning this phase of the journey- but it will get better... Sending all my love your way!

  15. My heart breaks for you with every post. You are in my prayers.


Wow. Thank you so much for taking the time to comment. I love feedback... what with being a cook and all. I will respond to your comments via email (if you do not have a "noreply" address or here, below your comment) As always, Bon Appetite!

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