Teasing the Thread

Bryan would comment about the way I worry saying I try to tease the threads out of a knot. I think the analogy of working through problems is pretty apt. I’ve been home, sick with a cold for the past few days with a lot of time by myself to think (“A dangerous pastime!” “I know!”). What I’ve been alluding to in my posts and the way I’ve been feeling have kind of crystalized after a conversation with a friend yesterday evening. Grief over losing Bryan has many facets, but there are three main components–Bryan, us, and the me in that us.

Bryan was amazing for so many reasons. He was thoughtful and kind, funny, so smart, and strong. He welcomed challenges to ideas. I don’t know anyone who liked to be wrong as much as he did. He said, “when I discover that I was wrong and have a new way of thinking it’s like a window to a whole new world I didn’t know existed is open to me now and I get to go explore it.” Adventuresome. Playful. Passionate. Bryan was never wishy-washy. No prevaricating. He spoke at full volume and full passion on any topic hoping for pushback and interplay. I’ve described him as being a labrador in some ways–skiing powder at Bluewood? That’s my favorite thing! Going on a trip with Becci to Joseph, Oregon? That’s my favorite thing! Listening to music with Mary and Becci in the evening? That’s my favorite thing! He was as passionate about the quantity and quality of cumin in his cupboard as he was the increasing number of round-abouts in Walla Walla and how that would improve our community. He seemed tireless. My life was filled with this wonder and passion for 14 years. And now he’s gone. I want to know what he would think about the recent Space-X launch and explosion. I want to know what he would think about the work getting completed on Alder. I want to know how we would be spending this summer together in the garden. And now he’s gone.

In his proposal to me, Bryan said, “you know, I think we’re better together than we are apart.” And he was 100% right. That has been our motto and theme our whole marriage. We even have a little pillow on one of our red chairs that says as much. We lifted and challenged each other to be our best selves sometimes overtly and oftentimes in the gentle movements of day-to-day living. I’ve lost half of us. And I am NOT better. I’m so sad and broken, lonely and haunted by the thought that I’m less. And I know that’s not what he meant or would want me to think, but that hurt and those thoughts are still there. I grieve the loss of us in the way I had grown accustomed and understood.

And I grieve the me in that us. Bryan had a way of looking at and loving me that made me feel fully seen. He knew all my flat sides and saw them as part of the whole he loved unconditionally. When you see yourself reflected in the eyes of the person who loves you most, loves you so fully and completely, you begin to see yourself with those kinder eyes too. There have been more than a couple of times when I’ve asked myself or others, “who am I now?”

The process of grappling with this and moving forward to live is daunting. I’m exhausted. I am a wanderer in a strange land. I am bombarded with waves of emotions and memories and all the tasks I need to accomplish to move forward. It’s so much. It’s so heavy. And while I’ve teased some threads, the giant knot is still there.