My Life Movie

Grief, what is it and why does it  have to come? Isn’t the real experience of losing my husband enough? Why do I have to feel grief every day after the fact? Every time I think of Darren, every time I see something he liked or went somewhere we went together. Grief feels so weird, like I feel like I’m not myself. I feel like I’m watching someone's life through a motion picture or some type of messed up hyper realistic movie. Maybe it’s because life without him doesn't feel right or I’ve maybe just gone crazy and completely disassociated from reality but either way I don’t like it. More about this movie I’m living in, I feel all of the pain but it just doesn't feel like my life. Will I feel like this forever? Will this feeling ever go away? When I first started watching this movie, I liked to refer to it as “My life movie”. I know it’s a weird name but so is this whole experience. So when I remember this movie starts I was up at the podium of St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York City, and I was speaking the eulogy at my deceased husband, Darren’s funeral. After I was halfway through I had to stop to compose myself and ever since that moment I have not felt like myself.

I swallow the lump in my throat and continue to speak,“Darren, your beautiful blue eyes never failed to calm me when I was stressed. When you would even take one look at me it would make me feel like I'm swimming in a tropical ocean with a Pina Colada in my hand and I immediately knew that everything would be okay. Your soft spoken voice was the best way to wake up every morning and go to bed every night. If I was ever upset or angry you always knew how to make me feel better and I don’t think any years in my life will ever compare to the ones I got to spend with you.”

I keep looking around at the rows and rows of pews that are filled with people who loved him as much as I did. His parents. His family. His friends– Our friends, and so many other people all around showing their love and empathy. Today I have heard, “I’m so sorry for your loss,” and, “May he rest in peace,” too many times. So many people around yet I feel so alone. There are so many people that haven't reached out in years. Steve, Carl, Thomas, why are they even here. Pretending to be sad now even though they haven’t cared for the past 10 years since high school. I’m done. I need to go home.

“I remember one time Darren and I were with our friends, we were out at a night club and Darren, the calm, laid back type of person, busted out into this awful dance.” I said while simultaneously crying and laughing. “That one, stupid looking dance just made me fall in love with him even more. From there on out he gained one of the best nicknames ever, Dancing Darren”. Every single club night, concert, party or honestly whenever music was playing, Darren was dancing. I would always roll my eyes at him doing his stupid little shuffle, with his stupid little sweat rag,” I stared down at my wedding band that is wrapped around my ring finger, same as it always has been. But this time when I look down it feels like that one small piece of jewelry was strangling me; that ring felt wrapped so tight around my finger that it could honestly explode any second or rip my finger off. Then I look up again at the church full of people here to celebrate my husband's life and I decide to gain my composure, again. Then I continued, “I would do anything for one last dance with him. And I know he’s up there in the clouds somewhere dancing his heart out.” As I walked past his casket I stopped and placed a hand right on top, still not believing that this will be the closest I will ever get to feeling his touch again. Then, on my way back to my front row seat I got a glance of our daughter. This is so unfair to her, why should she be forced to say goodbye to her father so soon? What about her wedding, or her college graduation? He has to miss every milestone from here. But I can't stay focused on her for too much longer because then I think about our bills. I don’t know how to pay the bills. I don't have the money to pay the bills. Breathe, I have to remind myself. 

The ceremony is over; finally. We walk out to the car in the busy streets of New York, where the sky seems to be slightly darker than when we had entered just an hour before. The ride to Calvary Cemetery was quiet. As they lowered his casket into the ground it rained. The melancholy feeling grows in my chest the lower he gets. I felt stuck in place. Just standing there staring into the ground. I closed my eyes and I went right back to our first date.

I was a nervous teenage girl. It was my senior year of high school and I decided to finally ask Darren out to dinner. Thank god he said yes. As I walked into the restaurant in my only nice outfit I saw his eyes light up.

“You look so beautiful, Annie. Oh sorry, is it okay if I call you Annie– Oh nevermind um Anne.”

“No, I love the name Annie.” I said and I saw him take a big exhale. The dinner could not have gone better. He was funny, so funny. We laughed all night long. From that moment on I knew he was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

Then I opened my eyes and I’m back standing over his grave. Everyone else has left. So I say my final goodbye and get in the car. I skipped the get-together after the ceremony. It feels too much like a party. Why would anyone want to celebrate right now? I just drove home. 

When I finally got home it was quiet. I keep thinking about how just a few days ago this same house was filled with laughter and conversation. Now it’s nothing but empty space when he used to be. His seat at dinner, his spot in the living room, and his side of the bed. I couldn’t sleep that night.

I laid in bed until 12 the next day. Just staring at the ceiling. There was no reason for me to get up.

Every day felt the same for weeks after this. I would lay in bed all day, get up to pee, maybe have something for lunch, then get back in bed and sleep some more. I would dream of what my life would be like if he were still here. We could have booked another vacation or even just went out to dinner one last time. We would go to a club, his favorite place. He never enjoyed the drinking aspect but once the music came on he was always the first and sometimes the only person on the dance floor. He was never ever embarrassed. I loved that about him, his confidence, it always made me feel better about myself. Then I would wake up and realize I was never going to be pulled out onto the dance floor with him ever again. I would never be able to feel his hand in mine or his arms wrapped around me giving me such a tight hug that I honestly thought I was gonna stop breathing. It was the small things I took for granted that I now missed like crazy. 

After 2 weeks my daughter came over to check in. 

“Mom, I’m really worried about you.”

“Honey there's no need to worry, I’m all fine.” I responded with the most forced cheerful voice that didn’t convince her for a moment.

“Mom. Please. Let me help you. When was the last time you ate? Or showered? How about the last time you even got out of bed?” I stopped and realized it had honestly been days. She saw how hard I had to think and that was the only answer she needed. “Exactly. Now please get out of bed and I’ll take you out somewhere nice, maybe getting out of the house will help you feel a little better–Please.” Her voice slightly cracked at the end and it broke my heart. So at that moment I agreed. She helped me out of bed and washed my hair. Blow dried it. And even put a little makeup on me. Not too much but enough to not make it obvious I haven't gotten out of bed in weeks.

When I stepped outside onto the busy New York City streets, I immediately got bombarded by the fast paced nature of the big city. The sunlight was in my eyes and I didn't even have any time to think before I got pulled by my daughter down the street. The walk was long, my legs were exhausted. And of course once we got onto the subway there were no open seats. Great. When we finally get off the nasty and smelly train the chaos just continues. 

“How much longer until we get there honey, I’m exhausted. Oh yeah also , where are you taking me?” I yell slightly through the loud New York streets. Right as I asked her we stopped in front of Odo, my favorite Japanese restaurant in all of NYC. My eyes lit up as we walked in and I got that familiar aroma that I would get when me and – when I used to come here. We got seated at a small table in the back and I stared at the menu, unsure of what I should get that wouldn’t remind me of all the times me and Darren came together. 

I sat through that lunch with a smile plastered on my face. Hoping my daughter, Hannah, would believe she had helped even a little. That lunch felt long. I wasn’t even sure what I got. I wasn’t hungry at all. I just ordered the first thing I saw. I ate it anyway. It was pretty good but honestly nothing compared to the amazing taste of my usual order. We used to get this amazing beef, no clue what was even on it but wow it was amazing and we would get this soup on the side and; Wow, amazing. But just the taste of that brings me back to a place that I can’t go back to without fully breaking down. And I really don’t feel like having a full meltdown in the middle of this insanely nice restaurant as a full grown adult. Not today grief. I can hold it in until I get home and I’m finally alone again. 

I had this feeling again. Oh no. I kept having small conversations with my daughter. But I wasn’t in control of what I was saying or even doing. My eyes and brain were wandering. I was looking around at all of the people they were all talking to and looking like they were having an amazing time. I even saw a couple kissing and celebrating their anniversary at a table across the restaurant. Ugh. Why do they get to be happy? What did I ever do to deserve this? Then I heard my daughter say it. That one line he used to always say to me to make me immediately feel better. She had that tone he used to use as well, wow she is really like her father. 

When I felt back in my body again, the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. He was not the only person who could make me feel safe. I immediately started feeling better, seeing that I was surrounded by people. I couldn't believe it. It almost felt wrong to feel okay with Darren by my side, but I also felt free, like life is possible without him here. At that point I knew there was hope for this to get better.

Although I still get that feeling, it has started to happen less and less often. I have also started to be more grateful with the times I get to have with the people I love. Don't get me wrong, I will love and miss my Darren forever but I also can’t dwell on his loss every day or else my life turns worthless as well. My life isn't constant anymore. Sometimes I watch some short episodes but I also know how to turn the show off and live in reality.