Wednesday 28 January 2015

The New Normal

As I started my journey, the road ahead was laden with thick fog. There were days when I could not see a hand in front of me and I remembering being terrified at what further obstacles I might encounter. The path was uneven, winding and completely unfamiliar but I had been told that if I kept going I would reach the gates where people from my tribe would welcome me and understand my pain.

I had been travelling for so long when I finally arrived at the outreach post.
The journey had seemed endless and I had totally lost my bearings. I was scared, utterly disoriented and completely unsure what to expect at the other end.

During the journey, it had been so dark. I don't recall seeing many people at the roadside - there were a few people I recognised and they were waving me on. I can't be absolutely certain but I think there was some cheering but by the same token, I heard some of them crying too and I remember thinking that it was very strange.

The easiest part of the journey was when I slept. All long haul travel is less burdensome if you can break it up with periods of slumber and so I figured that this trip may be the same.

But even during sleep, I had an overwhelming feeling in my subconscious that I hadn't packed the right things. I knew that I had forgotten something and it made me feel uneasy. My sleep was broken and despite my exhaustion it often evaded me entirely.

I thought it may be a good idea to stop off along the way and try to figure out if I was on the right track. This proved to be more unsettling because when I asked for directions, I realised that nobody could understand what I was saying. This seemed ridiculous and frustrating because essentially I was speaking the same language and everyone I encountered looked at me with confusion and panic. They didn't know how to help me, They didn't know which direction to point me in. Many of them turned away or scurried into their houses which were warmly lit and filled with the laughter of family and love.

I continued to struggle onward. I knew at some point that surely I would find a stranger who may be able to understand what I was saying, yet the route seemed to get less crowded and I was fearful that I was entering a deserted area where there would be literally nobody to help me answer my questions at all.

Finally, when I was on the verge of giving up, I arrived at the outreach post.

I was so very tired and in floods of tears. I looked a mess after weeks of not sleeping or eating properly. I was heartbroken and lonely. I was desperate.

There was a gatekeeper who asked me for my details.

She asked me 'Are you qualified to enter this world?'

I couldn't believe that there, in the still of the night was somebody who seemed to be expecting me.

'I'm sorry that you qualify to enter' she said 'but I am glad you have found us.'

I staggered through the checkpoint and was immediately welcomed.
I was helped through the gate with all of my bags of sadness. My baggage was laden with trauma, anxiety, heartbreak, fear and distress. Those things are not light to bear even though they are invisible. I was grateful beyond measure.

The town was packed with people - men and women, all quite young really - nobody much more than the age of fifty. Many more were nowhere near fifty. Some of the people were very young - much younger than me.

Some of the townsfolk had children. One lady had 4 beautiful children, all under the age of ten and one of them was just a babe in arms. There were other women who were pregnant.
Others were crying because they never had the chance to be parents at all.

There were lots of dogs and cats. It seemed quite chaotic.

I noticed several women were wearing a wedding dress, just like me. I was still wearing mine as I had only been married for 12 days.
Some women were crying about the wedding they never got to have and there were plenty of men and women, who just like me, had no children.

For a moment, I could not quite believe where I had ended up. I hadn't expected this and I certainly never planned for it. None of the people in this town had a husband or a wife or a partner anymore and they were all so very sad.
There were hundreds and hundreds of them - thousands even. All with their own special memories, heartbreaking stories, hopes and fears.

Yet they all came. One by one to welcome me. It was like each and every one had been expecting me. They understood what I said. They listened to me and they didn't try and fix me. They told me that this was something that could not be fixed. They spoke my language.

There was a small group in the corner that looked a little brighter. Some of them were sharing a joke and managing to laugh a little.

Some of them said they only visit here now and again, because they live somewhere else these days. I couldn't ever imagine living anywhere else but here. Not even one day but never.
I had found my new home. My tribe. 

When I had gathered my thoughts, I told them my story. I told them of Bebe and how he had caught a different train and that there was nothing we could do to stop it leaving. I also told them of my terrible journey into the unknown and how frightened I was to be without him.

'Is this normal?' I asked.

'This is the new normal.' they replied.
And as strange as it felt, it was the most normal I had felt in what had seemed a very long time.
So I unpacked and I settled in. Unaware that in a few days from then, I would be welcoming weary travellers to carry their bags of sadness through the gates.

For Bebe:
I am living in my new normal. I have connected with people who understand what it is like to lose a spouse or partner. My loss is unique because you were an incredible soulmate. But that level of unique loss it is not as uncommon as I had imagined at that moment you took your final breath. I don't want you to worry because I know I will be looked after here. x


3 comments:

  1. Beautifully written. I can relate to so much you say. I also will not let fact I am a widow define me. There is much more to me and I want people to see it.

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    1. Thanks Anne - your comments mean a lot to me and thanks for taking the time to read my blog. Wishing you hope in bucket loads for your continued journey :) x E

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  2. I don't know why I hadn't seen your blog before Elizabeth. On the day you arrived I had just set off. But I've found that same town too now. Thank you for writing.

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Thankyou for taking the time to read my blog. I am interested to know about your experiences and your thoughts.