Missingness…Let's Make it Worthy of Those We've Lost

Change can be hard; reframing our sadness helps

I loved the recent post by

Patricia Cusack

on change, endings and beginnings. You can find it below.

There have been big changes all my life… cross-country moves, another grandchild born, retirement, widowhood. I got through them with anticipation and eagerness…except for the widow part. That’s taken a long, hard time; but I keep trying because there is no other way.

The smaller, slow-creeping changes that come with aging are just now starting to show up; and boy are they getting my attention! Some have been subtle, some a bit sneaky…popping in just after you’ve taken care of another. I have accepted the word modify; acknowledge that I can’t do all I did years ago…at least not as fast nor as often.

I’ve a bad shoulder so no more sun salutes or down-dog sequence. Yoga doesn’t flow for me like it used to! Even though it hurts, I still do down-dog to get up from the floor. A year ago, I was doing down-dog, plank, up-dog…over and over. No wonder my shoulders hurt sometimes.

An X-ray showed nothing wrong with my lungs…getting out of breath is more about stamina and endurance, I know. And remembering not to hold my breath, or at least breathe while walking and talking! I’ve changed it up; I now walk first thing BEFORE coffee, while it’s still sunrise early and cool enough for a long sleeve shirt over my tank. I’m only on day four…roll out of bed, brush teeth, shoes on and out the door. It has to be fast, or I’ll head to the coffee pot button first!

I’ve been diagnosed with vein inefficiency…my legs feel heavy and achy sometimes; no more standing still too long. I wear leggings or compression socks on flights and road trips…but for pickleball and summertime fun, I want my shorts! Here I am trying to make it work…what do you think?

And so it goes with each little change I make to keep myself active while aging growing along wisely. Another kind of change for me is aloneness…not lonely, not alone…just missing him. I’m busy and active and make commitments, I have lots of friends to socialize with and weekly happy hours. But at the end of each day, I’m here on my own. Sometimes it rears up in the mornings as I’m happily having coffee and doing my word games—he’s not here to refill my cup, to ask what’re we doing today.

It’s a feeling of not being whole, not a full being, not complete. He completed me. Missingness means we’re left to navigate the rest of life with an invisible crutch, a wound in our hearts scar-tissued over year after year. Like a puzzle as we glue it together…realizing there’s a missing piece, never to be found again. The striking scene fit for a frame on the wall, but that piece was so important; it’s incomplete now.

Changing things up a bit helps, like watching TV during the day, then take my walk, or get groceries in the evening. Television in the evening triggers me sometimes…the shows, the commercials with couples holding hands, laughing together. It’s a couple’s world….so being on my own is like a missing limb, phantom pain if you will. I try not to watch anything that will make me tear up. And that guy…my friend with benefits I write about sometimes, he gets it. It’s the same for him, the missingness. He misses his wife. Men have these moments. And yet we like our alone time, our own space…even though it’s hard to handle hurt at any moment.

Another thing that helps me is writing as you can see here. A change in that I didn’t do it for so long. Sharing with other widows seems to help, knowing we’re doing the best we can and living happily in this beautiful space we find ourselves. Let’s reframe it as a good thing, changing our sorrow to joy in being alive. We are the ones left behind…now it’s a duty, a way to honor our spouses.

He watches over me and cheers me on to live the rest of life the best I can. I owe him that. We can sit in sorrow, or we can rearrange and decorate our lives with joy and celebration. Say their name, tell their story. I never cared for sports, but he was a big fan. Change for me was focused learning as I watched our grandkids play. I needed to step up and cheer at the right times to fill the hole grandpa left in yelling advice and knowing the proper terms to use as they came off the court or field. Before, I only knew a score or good play when he and the crowd cheered.

On blue days my kitchen floor gets washed, or the shrubs outside get trimmed….no tears when I’m intent on a project. And some days I let vanity rule ugly crying…no swollen eyes for me if I’ve got to be somewhere.

I say yes a lot so I have to show up, have to get myself up and out, follow through on what’s expected of me. Seasonal changes have an effect, holidays and anniversaries….it helps if I’m surrounded by friends and activity. Changing routines and reframing my thinking has made such a difference over the years. Now that time has softened the pain, I think of it as an honor…we are warriors for the newly lonely who’re trying to navigate the worst journey in life…a stumbling path that never ends. I walked it alone in the first few months, but finding hands to hold held me up. Let’s hold hands. Let’s show our grandkids death is sad, but if we let it in, there can be joy in carrying on.

I saw this on someone else’s post…it resonated with me. Please identify so I can give you credit; share your story too.

As always, thanks for reading me! My posts are always free, but if you want to support, it’s a 50% off deal right now. Or $5 to buy me a coffee, decaf or a frap with oat milk! 😄

Thank you all who have recommended me; I’m almost to 300! Such a thoughtful thing to do, it shows when I get the message “you have a new subscriber,” who recommended me! How kind is that! ❤️That’s a lot of friends to read and get to know! Sometimes I engage in just your notes… as much as I love this platform, I need to be smart, exercise and be cognizant of the time suck. I see you friends, I’ll get to your stories, I promise! 😘

Be well, be happy, be kind!

Much love, Joanie/Joan

Thanks for your inspiration,

Patricia Cusack

Big Changes, Endings and Beginnings