Since my husband died almost 4 years ago, I continue to learn how a daily meditation practice can help me in the grief garden of weeds and seeds.
The widows’ life can unfortunately only be experienced. I’ve had friends tell me to write a book about it. There are so many books. In the first six months, I read 10 or 12 books on the topic of a widow’s grief, unexpected death, sudden death. Some were helpful, others not so much. Yet the truth is, most of us experience this life one day.
Early after Marty died, my sobbing would move me to anger. I found myself wanting to disengage from the reality: he died. I would play things repeatedly in my mind, wishing and hoping there was another ending for Marty. Another one for me. Early on, when our spouse dies, some of us might try to concoct another ending, a happy ending.
My mind is often overactive with thoughts of the last moments of my husband’s life. Then those can run on to my mom’s death two weeks later and circle back to my dad dying nine months before my husband.
I rely on a few apps to help me with a guided meditation to keep my mind from lingering in the weeds and grow more of the seeds in my life now.
Unbelievably this past weekend, I discovered a guided meditation on Insight Timer that pulled this entire idea of weeds among the grains together for me.
Maybe you have weeds similar to mine on this widow journey?
My husband was everything to me, and I can take just one happy memory of love I remember and miss it until the ache surfaces and then, I cry. It then becomes a weed.
But I have free will and can choose to focus on a seed. He was always meeting someone who became a new friend. That’s the seed he planted in me to keep moving forward. To be content with meeting new people and know me and some of them will become friends.
But then there are those weeds of regret that I took things for granted. I never thought I would be alone in the quiet almost every night. One of my friends said she felt her house was a tomb. For me, that translated to mainly a place so quiet it was deafening.
Then, there was unexpected help from outside of me.
However, even though it didn’t work out for us, the first man I dated asked me something I had not thought I was doing. “If I come to your house, am I going to see a monument to this man?” He wasn’t too sensitive of a guy and likely could have asked it more gently. Still, I began to think.
Was I headed in the direction of putting so many Marty pictures around me; my house was becoming a monument?
I then “weeded” what I wanted to be more “seeding,” the best memories we experienced together, and those photos were already in place. With those photos and hundreds of videos I have, I will fondly remember Marty holding me, traveling with me, kissing me, lying next to me. Those memories come from my heart and sprout up in my head.
Staying stuck in missing all that isn’t what he would have wanted for me.
I know that because he once asked me, “If I die before you, do you think you’ll marry again?” What a question over the second cup of coffee one morning!
Before I answered, I thought about it for a few seconds. “Heck no! We’ve been married 45 years, and I may not have that much more here on earth either. I’d likely date again, though.”
“Yeah, sure,” chuckled. “no doubt a pool guy.”
I teased him back with a quip,” “Well, you’re more confident about that than I am, so maybe I will!”
That conversation one of my funniest memories of who my man was, and now it’s kind of seed for dating. And my husband planted it! But alas, I haven’t yet found this pool guy. Yet.
We likely know the weeds will continually be growing alongside those seeds, so why not focus on the seeds?