Memories; Pictures can say 1000 words

Hello everyone ❤

First, I wanted to say I’ve decided to take a blogging break. I’m putting so much sadness out into the universe and I’m not comfortable with it. I think I’m in a depth of pain that no longer can be done any justice by blogging about it. I feel like my screams are going out into cyberspace and echoing through the wavelengths and just creating an energy that isn’t good in the world.

I’ve never experienced pain like this before. The PTSD is overwhelming. The memories of Michael’s rapid illness and death haunt me, mostly at night. I wake to his screams and cries regularly, and it takes me a few minutes to realize it’s in my head. The images of his decline invade my mind and take me down a road to remembering my dad’s death too. I may be driving to the store, and in that few minutes all I see is a slideshow of the deaths of the two men I loved more than anything in this world. I close my eyes and see the suffering and remember the painful goodbyes. I hear the sounds of the dying; the wailing, the rambling, the rattling. I recall conversations and wonder if he was coherent when we had them. I have photos of him during that time that are so painful that I wonder if I should delete them, but I can’t bring myself to delete anything Michael-related. I desperately search for signs of Michael all the time because I truly don’t feel strong enough to live without feeling his presence. I catch myself thinking I should call my (now dead – oops that’s right) dad. When I was on my girls getaway, many many times I thought “I should call (now dead) Michael and check in”. Reality isn’t easy for me to keep up with. As my physical condition deteriorates, I’m constantly reminded of why this is happening. And I tease Michael aloud, telling him he’s killing me but he’s doing a shitty job of it. RA? Really? If you’re gonna ruin my life, give me something that will do me in instead of slow suffering, would ya?

I miss him so much. Nothing will ever, ever be the same again.

My goal was to hopefully help other widows at some point and right now, I’m not helpful. I’m whiny, depressed, needy, inconsolable, pissy, grumpy, self-pitying, sick, and tired. I’m questioning my sanity and my reason for living. My instincts are keeping me inward and isolating. I’ve never been through anything like this before. There’s no textbook. No amount of therapy in the world makes it better. It’s just unbearable, indescribable, horrific, nightmarish, brutal, unrelenting, unforgiving pain. It’s hell on earth. Hell.

It’s not a good time in my head right now. And I know those who actually do read this, don’t know what to do with it. And it leads to silence, and me questioning what I’m doing, and every reader questioning what the hell they can even say to me. It’s causing me more and more insecurity, so I’m stepping away for a bit until I can hopefully get my head straight.

Before I do, I wanted to share this picture with you. I had forgotten all about this photo, but with my daughter moving in next weekend I’m cleaning some things out. This was taken in 2005. Michael surprised me with an early morning balloon ride. It was amazing! We drank champagne as the sun rose. We swooped down really low and picked grapefruits off the trees. We floated above everything and felt no wind, because we were the wind. We traveled with it, so it was surprisingly quiet and still up there. It was one of his favorite memories right up until he died. But the power of the photo is this: When we had it taken and they handed it to us, Michael said “Wow. I think this is the first photo I’ve ever seen myself smiling.” We got home and sure enough, looked through hundreds of photos and couldn’t find any with a smile. Sometimes a grin, but you never saw his teeth. He said this picture was the perfect definition of who he was now. Happy, secure, and where he belonged. One picture says so much. ❤


Thank you for reading if you are, and thank you for reaching out if you are. I’ll be back when I feel I have something of value to share.

Peace Out,

~ Lisa

6 thoughts on “Memories; Pictures can say 1000 words

  1. Lisa I total understand where you are coming from with stepping away to find your center, regrounding and trying to find some clarity in your mind. I cannot imagine dealing with holidays on top of the pain you already are experiencing. Please know we are here for you no matter the color or tone of your words, we are here because we love you and this is one way we can show our support. Sending love and light to you my friend.


  2. I want to say it’s OK, but it’s not OK, because you’ve lost the love of your life and you’re feeling terrible mentally, physically and emotionally. It’s OK for you to blog about it tho – heck, it’s your blog and you can say whatever you want if it brings you some comfort or peace. If you write, we will read and our hearts will hurt for you and we will want to say words that make it better, but… they won’t, at least for now. If you don’t write, our hearts will still hurt for you. Just know most of us understand your pain. We wish it weren’t this hard, but it’s reality. And also just know it will get a little easier over time. Too many of us have survived similar losses (each horrendous in its own way) and are still here, putting one foot in front of the other and even finding joy in life. That joy will be there for you at some point, but I know that sounds crazy to you now.


    1. I hit enter too soon… There’s a lot of love in the universe – human, animal, God – my hope and prayer is that this love wraps around your broken heart very soon….


  3. I can only speak for myself, but I have read and re-read your last couple of posts and to be honest, I was not sure how to respond. I’m still not entirely sure what to write, but I wanted to send some type of a response. In your post prior to the one today, you talked of comforting a woman who had just lost her husband. You told her it was awful, it would suck but that you would be there if she needed you with no judgement or sugarcoating of anything. You commented that you wished someone would have said the same to you. If you go back to the comments on your posts Lisa, I believe you will find that many many readers of this blog told you the exact same thing and offered the same as well. What I have seen from this group of people who were walking this awful rocky path with you is that you have a group of very non judgmental people here who have come together to read your blog and provide you with their thoughts. This is what you asked for and I believe this is what we have delivered. I haven’t seen much sugarcoating here. Only support and concern. I’m sorry that you have decided to quit blogging, but you have to do what feels right for you right now. If you feel blogging is bringing you down more than lifting you up, then you are right to stop. If your decision to stop is your fear of bringing too much negativity to others, forget it. No one here is forced to read or respond. But many are here out of concern and a true feeling of being supportive of another human being who is suffering the worst that life has to offer right now. I hope that you will still read the comments that people may post, as we all started this journey with you, and we will want to know you’re safe. We will want to continue what we initially came here for and that is to walk with you on this rocky path. Please update us when you feel like the time is right for you. Until then, anytime, day or night or middle of the night. Text, phone call, email, blog. No judgement. Just support. No sugarcoating. Just reality. Hugs to you.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Hi there. I am so sorry if I implied that anyone here wasn’t being supportive. That isn’t the case at all. Sometimes, the support I receive here is the only thing that keeps me sane. I think my point is that I’m just inconsolable. Nothing helps. And that makes others feel inadequate. It’s just the most horrible situation all around. I hate whiners and I am one. The break from blogging is just so I can try to gain some perspective again. I read my posts and I’m not following my own heart and my own rules. I need to get back to some meditation, some centering, find my zen. I can’t rely on anyone to give that to me; it’s something only I can do. I’m hoping that once the holiday is behind me, some of this heaviness will lift. I just don’t feel it benefits anyone to just vent pain and misery. It’s my own belief really. We manifest what we put out. Misery breeds misery. It’s not you. It’s me. ❤


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