Now that I’m retired, I love taking writing courses. They challenge me and make me dive deeper into my feelings – and they also encourage me to make more time to write. In my current course, called “Writing to Heal,” this was one of today’s prompts.
What was a time you felt some connection to wholeness? (For example, if you’re grieving the death of a loved one, you might want to write about when you felt whole with your partner, but it might also be helpful to write about your wholeness in a time of life without your partner, too…)
Well, wasn’t that question tailored directly to me??! I’ve never thought about this idea of when I felt whole with Rick and if/how I feel whole in my life after losing him. It’s an interesting question.
I definitely felt whole when Rick was here… he was the yin to my yang (or vice versa). He was my partner in all things: conversation, sleeping, eating, sex, traveling, reading, watching movies, writing, designing websites, attending events, socializing, swimming, family time, hugging and cuddling. Every part of my life was shared with him, every portion of my being. I felt whole, loved, cherished, and part of an inseparable duo. I felt complete in all ways.
When he died, I was shattered, and not just emotionally. My life was incomplete without my other half. My heart was broken, and so was my spirit. My hopes and dreams for our future were shattered. My day-to-day routine was completely destroyed. I couldn’t imagine life without him and doing any of the things we shared on my own. The loneliness and sadness were incapacitating.
And slowly, slowly, slowly, over the years since he’s been gone, I began to create a new life without him. My heart mended (mostly), but I was still forced to ponder life without his input, make my own decisions, make my own happiness. I was eventually able to socialize, attend events, family functions, travel, etc. on my own without constantly feeling that something’s missing. I have finally filled in the hole he left in my being.
I am whole once again.
It took a while. It took a long while, but I am content living alone now. I have rebuilt my life and have even become a new and different woman than I was when I was with him. I’ve made new habits, found new hobbies, explored new ideas and horizons.
I know he’d be proud of the new me. I know he’d be happy that I’m not still in my bed, deep under the covers, hugging his pillow and wallowing in my grief. Not that it wasn’t a necessary stage in the grieving process, because it was. I had to cry out my grief and let it go in stages. It was a long and painful process, but that’s true of so many things in life.
And all that time I was grieving, reminiscing about our past together, rueing the loss of our future, I was also practicing being whole on my own.
Eventually, I made it.
I owe a lot to my grief therapist. She encouraged me to fill my life with new things, keep the things we used to love doing together that can still be done on my own, and let go of the things that were only good with him by my side. That advice helped me build the life I have today. I’ve kept traditions that we shared and have created new habits and activities, as well.
I’ll never forget Rick and his love. I still have grief triggers arise suddenly out of the blue. I still cry under the covers hugging his pillow now and then. But one huge life lesson I learned from his loss is that our time on earth is limited, and I don’t want to waste a second of the precious moments I have left.
Today’s writing prompt made me realize that, after many years without him, I do feel whole again. I know that would be his biggest wish for me.
And whatever the stage of your grief journey, I wish the same for you. ❤️
About Katherine Billings-Palmer
On August 13, 2017, I lost the love of my life. Rick Palmer and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary one month before he died at age 63 of complications from treatments for small cell lung cancer. He was my partner and soulmate, the love I had been looking for and finally found at age 40.
Rick was a talented writer and web designer and, in 2002, we began our own web and print design business. We worked together building the business and enjoyed traveling, writing, and playing together. Our dream was to spend our golden years together doing more of the same, but in the ten months from diagnosis to death, that dream shattered.
After Rick’s death, I quickly realized that the enormity of his loss was too much for me to handle on my own, so I began grief therapy. I also began writing through my grief in a journal of feelings, thoughts, memories, and poetry. As I navigate my new life alone, I share my journey and my efforts towards creating my “new normal” on my personal blog: The Writing Widow. I’m also on Instagram, Blue Sky, and Facebook.
I've published three books about my grief journey: my poetry book, I Wanted to Grow Old With You: A Widow's First Year of Grief in Poetry, and two books of poetry and prose - A Widow's Words: Grief, Reflection, Prose, and Poetry - The First Year" and A Widow's Words, Year Two: Grief, Reflection, Prose, Poetry, and Hope."
I also published a memoir: "My Story: A Memoir in Poetry and Prose." All my books are available in ebook and print versions on Amazon.com.