Today's Thoughts

I've been thinkin' about Harv a fair bit lately. Most every day... All the time... But lately, I've been thinkin' about how I'm grieving.  

I think I'm figuring out that I want to grieve slowly and feel it all... And I want to hurry up and stop grieving. 

That's kind of a weird place to be.

For me, I know I "talk" in my blog about my losses, but when I'm in the thick of the emotion, I pretty much don't want to talk. For me, the grief is too sacred to discuss out loud most of the time. I don't want to talk when I'm having a special moment at the two rivers in Lytton. I won't want to talk when I go to see the graves of my parents and my sister. And, I certainly don't want to discuss my loss with the banker who is changing the signatories on our safe deposit box.

Grief is so personal and individual. It's also a day-by-day thing where one day might not look like the day before.

And, the other thing I keep thinkin' about is how having Harv here... in my life...  in this house... walkin' around in the yard... wrestling with Raney... teaching the girls different things... laughin' his laugh... playin' his guitar... bein' in his office... never bein' able to stop learning or trying new things... makin' me feel special

... that seems like a whole lifetime ago... a whole 'nother life... 

...I'm livin' a "new" life now... one where he's still here and he's also not here...

What a strange place to be.

What a gift he was to me.

What a great man.

What a great loss.

Where Two Rivers Meet

Harvey grew up in Lytton, British Columbia, Canada.... known for being "Canada's Hot Spot" and whose motto is "Where old friends and two rivers meet." 

The two rivers are the Thompson (clear, beautiful green river) and the Fraser (silty, brown, murky river). When you are there, you can actually see the merging of the rivers. Harv rafted those rivers as a river guide and those rivers are a part of who he is. 

This weekend Sarah and I went to Lytton to see Harv's parents. While we were there, we walked down to the point where the two rivers meet and each of us released some of his ashes as close to the point where the two rivers meet as we could get... And it just so happened to be at sunset. Kind of a lovely time.

Thankful we could visit with Joe and Peggy...

Thankful we could have that moment "where the two rivers meet."

Love that man. Thankful for that man. Thankful for all that he brought to my life.

A year ago this week, Harv, Anthony, the girls, and I went to Kalaoch, WA on the  Olympic peninsula for our summer vacation. It's a spot that we have loved for many years. It's a wide-open beach, very few people... just big ocean and big beach. It's refreshing and lovely... All we do when we go there is hang out in the cabin and walk on the beach, take naps, build a fire in the fireplace, play some board games and eat... And then we repeat the next day.

We went to Kalaloch last summer after a series of doctor's appointments that seemed less and less hopeful and after learning about possible treatments that would be harder and harder for Harv to handle.

When we came back from Kalaloch, I told Harv that he didn't have to do any more treatments if he didn't want to. He said he didn't think he could.  And, we knew (and we didn't know) what that meant. 

Thus began the journey to our good-byes.

Every day since I lost Harv, I keep learning new things about why I miss him. You've read some of them before. You most likely knew him well enough to know some of those things for yourself. 

There aren't many men who are as kind and patient and generous as he was. I waited many, many years to meet that man...and he was worth the wait. He made me feel loved and appreciated and valued. He was my best friend.

It occurred to me recently that one of the things I've been missing is having him here to talk to. I could talk to Harv about anything. ANYTHING. And, he never stopped loving me. 

I have great friends. I have friends who I talk with about many things. I have wonderful children with whom I talk about many things. I have family with whom I talk about a wide range of topics. 

But Harv. With Harv, I could talk about EVERYTHING. I didn't have to filter things. I didn't have to worry about how I'd come across. I didn't have to worry about offending him with my opinions. I didn't have to tailor my discussions for his maturity level.  I didn't have to be careful with him because I knew he could handle whatever we talked about and I knew he loved me regardless.

That's what I'm missing these days. 

My soul mate. 

My confidant. 

My best friend. 

I miss Laura, too.

Way more than you would know.

Definite hole.

She should be here.

I don't know if guilt is a part of grief or not, but I feel some. And, I don't know if my feelings of guilt are justified or not, but I still feel 'em.

I know that I wouldn't have been able to change the outcome of the lives of the people I miss, but now -- when I can't even change anything at all -- I want to go back and get a tippy-end-of-life do-over.

During the time of Harvey's illness, I chose, specifically, not to change the way I acted as his wife and as the family coordinator and planner and mother. People always say "Treasure these moments" because they go so fast. I KNOW they go fast, but I specifically chose not to act all lovey-dovey when I wasn't feelin' it 'cause that just wasn't natural.

Truth be told, there were quite a few times during the stress of Harvey's illness that I did not feel lovey-dovey. I tried. (My family members may not have been aware, but I DID try to be sweet.) But I'm just not really good at faking whatever emotions I feel. I might hold them in, but eventually those feelings -- good or bad -- come out... pretty much just like I feel 'em. 

There were many times when I just really didn't have time to "appreciate" what was around me...'cause there were appointments to get to, school events to attend, dinners to make, dog to walk, household to run. 

So even while Harvey lay in the bed at hospice house, I feel like I let some moments slip. I didn't want to...but I think I was so busy taking care of the business of his illness for so long that all I really knew how to do at that point was wait.

Thank goodness I paid attention right before (and I mean RIGHT before) he breathed his last breath.

But what I WISH had happened... what I would like to do over... is to have had even ten minutes of just me and Harv time... Ten minutes where I could say all the things that were/are in my heart. And, in a miraculous world, I would have loved to have had ten minutes where he talked back.

Harv and I were pretty good about communication throughout our relationship. We didn't hold back. And, I know that I know that I know that we both knew how much we loved each other... And, I still want a do-over.

I don't know how a person balances being real and authentic with fully appreciating every blankety-blank moment in a less-than perfect situation. But can somebody make sure he knows that he knows that he knows that he knows that I really, really, really love him? And that I'm sorry I was grumpy sometimes and inattentive sometimes and selfish and impatient? And, can you ask him to just very clearly send me a message to let me know he knows?

You know... I don't actually feel okay. 

I feel pretty good most days, but I don't feel whole... or healed... or together... or at peace.

I keep thinking that I need to make plans for the future. That I need to begin DOING something with this life of mine --- other than take care of dogs and college-children.  I feel somewhat guilty 'cause I don't even have the motivation to plan and prepare my own meals for my girls. I can't even cut my own grass these days. I think I need to be active in society and make some little corner of my world a better place.

I just don't have it in me right now, though. And, I think that's okay... I KNOW that I have suffered a fair number of losses (six) over the past eight years and that a person doesn't just get over those. They compound. It takes years to heal from loss...  And yet, I struggle 'cause I'm not doing anything. And, I'm trying to give myself some grace...

I was reminded tonight, though,  that Harv took good care of his family. And, while there is a definite hole in our lives, he provided for us in a way that gives me the luxury of healing for pretty much however long I need to take. Even though I wish I didn't have to heal at all, I am thankful that I can. 

Another sign of his thoughtfulness and love for his family.

Sure do wish he was here.

For the past week or so, I've felt unsettled and "on edge"... Haven't been able to really understand exactly why, but I can't seem to relax. 

Last Thursday, I was in the garage workshop area gathering camping supplies and making a pile for what turned out to be a one day trip. (RAIN!) But, as I was gathering, I realized that it was Harv... It was Harv not being here, not packing for the trip, not making lists and organizing the camping equipment stuff... The fact that he wasn't going on this trip with us... THAT'S what was buggin' me.... Tears welled up in my eyes back there in the shop and I kinda felt a little bit of release and relief -- at least in identifying what was buggin' me.

But, I'm still unsettled and "on edge." Not totally sure why, but maybe identifying it helped but didn't actually "cure" the uneasiness. Maybe it's 'cause our sweet kitty, Andy, wandered from home and still hasn't come back yet. Maybe it's 'cause I miss Laura, too, and I don't feel like I really have had time to grieve that loss because Harv died only five months later. 

Maybe it's just 'cause I want to heal from all the loss and hurry up and get back to normal... (who knows what THAT is?!). I think I just want to stop feeling sad and lonely and grief. I just want to be better...all the way around...

I know that's not how one gets through grief. You just have to walk that whole path -- however long it takes...

But maybe that's what's buggin' me.

I don't know. 

I DO know that Harv should be here. So should Laura. 

I DO know that I was lucky to have both of those sweet people for as long as I did.

I DO know that I still have a good life...

Thankful for that.