Jim and I were so young when we married. I was 18 and he was 24. Times were different then than now. We grew up faster than the following generations. Vietnam took many who had just graduated high school, and some of my classmates were already slogging through the jungle getting shot at and becoming old before their time.
As my life evolved into being a wife and a mother-to-be, Jim went back to being a soldier. We had been married on Jim’s R&R, and his role changed to husband and father-to-be. He still had a year to serve when he returned to the world, and he went through another transition, but brought his demons with him.
Throughout the years of our married life, Jim suffered from PTSD, depression, occasional paranoia, and complete mental breakdowns. Alternately, he could be loving, creative, sensitive, and generous to a fault. The one trait that never changed was his love of, and loyalty to, family.
I became a caregiver during the final chapter of Jim’s life. Nothing is sadder or more heartbreaking than watching someone you love disappear into the clutches of dementia. We faced a new battle together as Jim’s personality, ability to communicate, and his sense of self diminished into a shadow of the person he once was. Yet, sometimes, he surprised those around him with a look in his eyes, or a slight smile as he held a secret he couldn’t share verbally, and returning a hug or a kiss.
We lost the battle to dementia twenty-five years ago, but Jim’s memory still lives, and the next chapter was learning to live alone. I had already lived five years alone while Jim was in the nursing home, but that was followed with another nine years living in the house Jim and I built.
I remarried in 2014 and Harold and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary in August. As we aged, we both had our share of health issues. Harold’s health was worse than mine, and I found myself in a caregiving role without the benefit of being young. When Harold passed away, I found myself a widow for the second time.
The truth I discovered was that losing my spouse was harder this time. I suppose there is a complicated psychological reason, or reasons, for this difference in my ability to bounce back from the grief. The only thing I am sure of is that I don’t want to go through this again. I don’t think I can go through it again.
I’m adjusting to the new normal. I have begun to participate in activities I enjoy. I want to spend more time with family and friends.
I embrace my responsibilities to the land and home that are in my care. It’s true that you never know how strong you are until you have to be.
I’m working on resolving some of my own health issues, and want to make the most of the next chapter of my life. Some days everything goes smoothly, and other days, I have to place a bookmark and start fresh the next day.
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3 comments:
Trying times without our loved ones makes for a hard life. But God sends us the right people to help when we need help
Linda, you write so eloquently about your life with both your husbands. I remember being at the candlelight vigil in DC shortly after Jim died. It was heartbreaking knowing what you had experienced. The grief following Harold’s death is so recent. Know you remain in my thoughts!
💜 Sarah. Sending hugs!
My condolences on the loss of both of your husbands. I wish you well during this next chapter of your life.
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