Search This Blog

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Melancholy Baby

Though I’ve done a lot of walking and all my  stretching exercises every day, I’ve not done a full Y work out since Friday. I’m feeling it physically and emotionally.

Granted, my melancholia has much, much, MUCH to do with missing my brilliant, beautiful man. Of course it does. He was my partner, my sunshine, my BFF hunny pie, kissy Pooh Bear for 30 years. His death, his absence is enormous. I feel as though my insides have been scooped out, scrambled and binned.

Maybe you’re thinking but it’s been almost a year, Donna. The loss should be less acutely painful now. It's, mebbe, just different. Some of the shock's worn off so I'm, possibly, feeling the BIG sad more completely.

There’s a grief related website which notes:
You’ll probably start to feel better in 6 to 8 weeks. The whole process can last anywhere from 6 months to 4 years.
Six to eight weeks? Oh. Rilly, now? Maybe they’re referring to the loss of a pet. Rocco spun off from this blue marble earth 10 weeks ago. I surely do miss him but grief isn’t consuming me. When I walk up the stairs now, he’s not at the bedroom door, shaking his back end like a puppy – thrilled to see me. I'm no longer surprised or pitched into darkest gloom that he's not there.

Coco helps. A LOT.

I'm a little afraid that friends will think (even worse – tell me) I'm being self indulgent. That I'm wallowing in my TAB grief and need to shake it off. NOT bloody likely. My chums are made of smart, compassionate, caring and understanding stuff. Thank Bast!

I am to the point where I have occasional good days without even having to be on some far flung, foreign vaca. Sunday’s movie day was one of those. So….emmm, progress! I’m attempting to be patient and caring with myself. Hard to do. Self-patience — not one of my superpowers. I know that, in this ocean of missing my handsome, brilliant other half, there are and will continue to be peaks and troughs. Yup, I’m in Trough City right now.

The National Institute on Aging’s mourning page  has some interesting suggestions as well as a few laughable NO ones like:
  • Join a singing group. 
TAB and me in happier days
Em, deaf here – this would be a prescription for major frustration and annoyance for all. Still, when I picture it in my head – HILARIOUS!
  • Join a bowling league.
This is SO not gonna happen. I picture mondo slapstick action in my head – me rolling pin-ward down the lane instead of the balls. Coordinated, I am not.

One of the suggestions which really piqued my interest is Take a class. Not a bad idea. After seeing Beauty and the Beast, I thought about taking an animation class. Now, having seen Wonder Woman twice (yes, twice. Joe and I caught a matinee yesterday. Just as awesome the second time around AND I want to see it again!), I’m keen on understanding how all these special effects are created. 

I'll look into classes at UMass Boston – it's nearby and they've undoubtedly got the wherewithal to accommodate deaf students (as opposed to a small adult ed. program).

I’m so used to thinking about classes in terms of gaining new skills in order to get better jobs or advance in the one I have. This’d be learning, gaining knowledge for it’s own sake, for fueling the brain, the imagination – WOW, what a concept!
Ella Fitzgerald & Teddy Wilson – My Melancholy Baby


  1. 6-8 weeks sounds ridiculous. Maybe they are lowballing it in order to give people something to shoot for or create a feeling of optimism in readers.

    It might be possible to realize that life is going to go on 6-8 weeks after such a loss. But "feel better"?