The Yin and Yang and a Rock

A husband and wife (spouse/partner) generally have different ways to soothe their sorrows, express their grief, and to move forward in life. Finding a balance that respects each other is imperative to land in a healing place. Moving forward can be challenging and scary because all the while you want desperately to keep alive the memory of what was once the living representation of your union.  

My husband and I have very different ways of coping with our grief. I see him as an active griever. My way is a bit more clandestine. He finds comfort in listening to the songs our son enjoyed, driving his truck, visiting the places he went. For him, these things are a connection to our son.  To be in concert with a person who knew Wyatt, or to be in a place they were together is a heartbeat for him.  Me, I retreat to a veiled silence. The songs, the places, the things; more often than not, they evoke fear and sorrow in my heart.  The marrow of my being hurts and I all I can do is retreat and hope to breathe. 

With the goodness of a friend and the attentiveness of a companion, my husband understands my silence. He knows when to push me out of the shell and when to shut the door and give me space. When pain injects itself in my heart and sorrow clouds my mind; he is there.  He knows to hold my hand and wipe my tears.  He respects my needs and seems to truly understand my path. If I say I can't, he waits and when it's time, he shows me we can, I can.

The absurdity of my retreat to solitude is not lost on me.  Even as I do it, I know it is nefarious. It is in the light of friendship when I am alive. When I see our son's friends my heart leaps.  When I can wrap my arms around their beautiful children my soul brightens. When Wyatt's friends surround us, we are transported to another place where he is also with us, it is in their presence we know the yin and the yang of life's joys and sorrows.

There are reasons we survive a trauma and an understanding love rates high up there in my mind. Love in all is iterations soothes an aching heart and is a bridge to healing. When we share the sorrow, we share in healing. Here's to you my sweet James, for holding me when you could barely stand yourself, for continuing to be my rock in this treacherous walk. 

You have treated me with patience

You have held me when I cried

You carried me in from the rain

You listened to my fears

You held my hand 

You walk with me into the unknown

You are my rock.