The Imperfect Truth

When I started this blog I promised anyone who read it and more importantly myself that I would be honest and not hide who I am and how I move through the world. So. This is me.

Labels are a way for people to judge who you are and how they relate to you without putting any effort into the process. But we all do it, even to ourselves. We label ourselves; bitch, oblivious, amazing, awesome, creative, impatient, generous, busy, stressed, or inconsiderate. And then we make excuses. But what if we accept the good and bad in ourselves? Accept who we are while acknowledging there's room for positive change. What if we accept grief as a new part of ourselves without excuse? What if we seek to find our own way?

When Mark died, I came home and immediately cleaned out his meds. I disposed of them, all of them. He hated them, I hated them. I hated the Sunday ritual of filling his strips for the week. I wanted them gone. I didn't ever want to see them again.

Then, the week after his death, I tackled his side of the closet. I kept several of his T-Shirts, those boxers I hadn't already stolen for my use, and a few of his sweat pants. Then I let our son and daughter take what they wanted. The rest went to Goodwill. It surprised several people that I did it so soon. I guess to them it was like I was wiping him out of the house.

I blew through everything after that, I gathered his wallet, passport, visa, and essential papers and stored them away. I donated all medical equipment and supplies. I was compelled to do it. I was in survivor mode. Because every time I went into our closet to change, his stuff was hanging there waiting, his dirty laundry was in the basket, his socks were rolled up in the drawer. It was the same. But everything was different now. So I did what I needed to do. What I needed.

I don't need an excuse for what I did. This is my life, and I can't live it using someone else's judgment scale. This is me. I don't care if you're grieving a situation, person, relationship, lost opportunity, or lost circumstances, don't let anyone tell you how to grieve. Or what steps you take to handle your grief. Not with good intentions, advice, words, or facial expressions. It belongs to you. It's part of you now. Acknowledge it, then accept it. Seek support if you need it, reach out, but only you can do the work to make your way through. That is the imperfect truth.