Grief

I'm grieving. I guess that's been pretty obvious over the course of the last year. But I'm finding this kind of grief strange. Or at least the reactions to it. A year ago, I lost my husband. No, he didn't die. In many ways, that might have been easier. A husband who dies (in a "normal" relationship) leaves a wife who knows he loved her, who he was committed to. If I'd lost my husband, knowing how much he loved and cherished me, I'd be heartbroken and grief-stricken. But a little comforted, knowing those things.

But I lost a husband who no longer loved me. Sure as heck didn't cherish me. I lost a husband who lied to me, who hid from me, who resented me, a whole number of things I can't even guess because he also stopped talking to me.

So, I lost the person. I lost his physical presence in our home. But I lost every dream I ever had for our life together. I lost the dream of growing old with the first person I ever loved wholly and completely as an adult. I lost the dream of watching our children grow, laughing together and being frustrated together through all the ages and stages. I lost the dream of celebrating 10, 25, 40, 50 years together. The dreams WE had. The dreams WE shared. HE made vows and broke every.single.one.

A year ago, when he left, the grief was obvious. I was surrounded by a church and friends who supported me like never in my life. I was about to give birth, I had two busy boys, who were confused and upset and so much was happening. It made sense to grieve.

Time went by. I moved back to Canada. And a year later, I honestly feel just as stink as I did when he walked out the door. I'm now also grieving the loss of some of the best friends I've ever had, and our home, but even the grief over the marriage and all the things I just mentioned, is still so palpable. No, I'm not in crisis anymore. But the grief has not lessened.

And the grief is coupled with some reactions that are sometimes difficult to deal with. When someone you love dies, you don't normally have anyone tell you that "you're better off", "he's a _________ anyway" (fill in the blank with any derogatory word you like), etc. There are so many people who have loved and cared for me in this grief, but many who also carry so much anger and resentment and bitterness toward my husband. No question, I have felt those things, too, but they don't seem to help me work through my grief.

If he had died, I wouldn't live with the constant betrayal. I wouldn't have to know he was happily living his fantasy life on the other side of the world. I wouldn't have to know he completely disrespects me and disregards our entire history. 12 years. Wiped out. Just like that. I will never have anyone to share those memories with again. If he died, I wouldn't either, but at least I'd know he COULDN'T. At the moment, he's alive and well, and our life together meant zero to him. Zilch. I'm no better than the mud on the bottom of his shoes. If he had died, photos and keepsakes wouldn't carry pain. I wouldn't hide away my wedding album, wondering if I'll ever be able to look at it again. I wouldn't try and pretend the large garment bag in my parents' spare bedroom closet is actually my wedding dress. I wouldn't pretend my dried wedding flowers aren't sitting in a box on the top shelf of my closet. I wouldn't feel pain every time I unpacked a box that contained household items that had been our wedding gifts. I wouldn't have to try and explain to my son, when he asks, how Daddy loves them (the children), but not Mummy.

Yeah, that last one sucks the most. My children. My oldest son in particular. He is so burdened by everything that has happened, it's actually making him ill. Okay, the death of a parent could affect a child like that, too. But he was betrayed, too. His daddy had a choice and he knows it. He's smart. He's old enough to understand that when a person dies, they have no choice but to "leave". He knows his daddy chose NOT to be with him. My goodness, what devastation. And I have to somehow help him grieve, too. And I don't know how. Why should HE suffer? Okay, I'm suffering as an adult. I'll deal with that. Why should this boy suffer? Why should his siblings suffer, as they get older and understand more? They did NOTHING!

So, I grieve for me, I grieve for my precious children. I grieve for all our lost dreams and hopes and shattered lives. And two people, on the other side of the world, close their eyes and pretend they've done nothing wrong. There is no justice in this world. I thank my God that there will be someday.