Learning 2 Live Again - in spite of grief
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If a picture paints a thousand words, what is the word count for minor pain?

9/22/2011

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Yesterday marked the third anniversary of Butch's passing. A few friends had asked how we were going to commemorate this special day and, to be honest, I was a bit lost for ideas. I know Butch would have thought we were all wasting a good day if we just sat around moping.
One friend suggested I do something Butch loved...scuba diving was out, it feels too much like drowning for my taste, fishing was no good, it was far too windy, and I don't know the first thing about dismantling a gearbox. One of Butch's favourite things was to watch horror movies, and I'm sure part of that enjoyment involved me jumping, screaming or grabbing at him every time something scary happened. Nup, that wasn't happening anytime soon.
I was contemplating a day of moping around feeling sorry for myself and trying to remember the good times we had. Trish, my daughter had other plans....
Her and Matt decided to shout me an early birthday present, something I had wanted to do for a long time, so she booked me an appointment for 3:00pm and it was all on...
When we arrived at the tattoo parlour, they were running late, so I had plenty of opportunity to think about what getting a tattoo would feel like....hmmm...
There was a lady ahead of me who would have been in her late sixties. I watched closely and she didn't even flinch. This upset me a little, as I realised I wouldn't be able to cry or scream if someone older than me could handle the pain...buggah!
Finally it was my turn and I leapt up to show the design I have been carrying around in my handbag for almost a year. As he was leaning over to begin, I thought I would try a little small talk so it would distract me, just in case.
'So, how long you been doing this?' I asked
'He looked up, over at the clock, and then back at me, grinning replied 'Oh, about a week, week and a half!'
No one likes a smart arse! I resigned to having to keep quiet.....difficult for me, as you probably know by now.
It didn't hurt as much as I thought it would and I was impressed with the great job he did, the perfect swirls and positioning. He had to keep pulling my hand back as I admired my forearm after he had finished. He cleaned it, I checked it again, he pulled it back and put the cream on it, I checked it again...
I've always wanted a tattoo, but until last year, I never found anything I could live with for the rest of my life. Late last year I was very sick, I didn't have a disease as such, but I did have a dis-ease. I wasn't sure if I wanted to stick around for the duration, so slowly but surely I began to shut my body down. What started as a Reiki healing turned into a continuous question by not one, but two good friends....'Live or Die? Choose' 
I finally chose, but I have to admit it wasn't an easy decision, there were plenty of good points for both choices.....
My tattoo on the inside of my forearm serves to remind me, I chose life.
So I'm hoping you are wondering what I chose....and if you aren't, well, you should stop reading about now...
It's a Triade or Triskele, which is an ancient celtic symbol related to earthly life, afterlife and reincarnation.
I may feel as if parts of my life are heartbreakingly sad, lonely or empty, but every time I catch sight of, admire or show off my tattoo, I will remember that on the anniversary of Butch's passing, I made a commitment to a life, mine!
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Two years, eleven months, twenty-eight days and counting...

9/18/2011

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Well, almost another year has passed, Wednesday marks the third anniversary since Butch passed away. I hesitate to call it a deathaversary and can accept calling it a passaversary.
My life has changed in so many ways during the last three years, going from being a happily married person to a widow, lost and alone in a strange world filled woth sadness and dark empty spaces.
As time goes past and less of the people I associate with know the special person that was Butch, it feels like he may have been a figment of my imagination - a happy dream, with a not so happy ending.
There have been times I have found it hard to carry on, where I have lost the will to live, but I'm still here, sometimes despite my best efforts...
There have also been times when I have managed to find joy in my life, feel like I was moving onward and upward, that I am surrounded by many who love and support me. I am forever grateful to those around me who allow me to be sad, who accept that is who I am at times.
I still miss Butch so much. I continually ache for the love and laughter we shared. I still look with envy at those couples who are fortunate enough to be strolling hand in hand. I feel cheated out of my happy ending, but hey, what can you do?.
I have learned to come to terms with the fact that life may not get better, it is simply different and I'm just gonna have to get used to it. If there's one thing I have learned, its that stamping my feet won't change anything - damn it all.....and yes, I tried that many times.
As I have emerged from my cave, ever so slowly, there have been many challenges I have had to overcome. There have also been many times I have challenged myself, forcing myself to do things or go into situations I would rather not. I am a pretty hard task mistress when it comes to myself.
On Tuesday I am doing a 'booktalk' about the power of positive thinking. They gave me four dates to choose from, but I chose this day because I wanted to see how strong I am. Sometimes I think it was a cruel thing to do to myself and other times I believe it is an empowering thing to do. It will be a fitting tribute to an amazingly strong and wonderful man. Maybe, just maybe, it will also be a celebration of my courage and determination...

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    Cherie's Blog

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