Wednesday, February 04, 2009

No Jim

Sometimes whole days go by without my seeing Jim as we found him that night. The dark hole in his temple, his gasping breath, and the unreality of seeing him like that.

Today wasn't one of them.

No matter how many times I tell myself that it wasn't about me; that there was nothing I could have done and no way I could have seen what was coming, I still come back to thinking that I failed him in some way. I was supposed to look after him.

After he died, I spent a lot of time railing at him for not living up to his wedding vows, but that wasn't the issue. He actually kept up his end of the bargain. It was my interpretation that was flawed. I think they should rewrite the vows to say "...until natural death do us part."

Maybe I want to think I failed him. Maybe it just makes more sense to believe that I deserve this bleak future.

My dreams are restless, searching for something that always eludes me.

I no longer enjoy romances. I used to love them, but now they seem pointless.

Before I started dating Jim, I had my life sorted. I could look ahead to living alone, surrounded by cats and contentment. Somehow, nursing my unrequited love, that seemed like a good thing. Now, I have to get back there, and it's hard.

A life in which I am completely surrounded by no Jim.


  1. Ronni, I don't even know what I could say to comfort you. I know Jim loved you. I saw you together and I saw it in action. I don't think you "failed" him in any way. You may never know why he chose the path he did, but he chose it, you didn't throw him onto the path and tell him to hoe that row.

    Love you, Ronni.

  2. Loss does funny things to you doesn't it? Sometimes we just see and feel things that we wish we could just let go of. Our brains are so complex it's scary. I wish there was a way I could help you,or just be there to give you a hug,or make you laugh. But I want you to know your not alone feeling like this,I too have my days like this and it seems like we tend to blame ourselves for something we didn't even do,kinda like wearing a hair shirt and flogging ourselves,maybe because we were forced to go on without them? Who knows? Sometimes I wish I could just flick a switch and turn my brain off,how much easier life would be,no? (((((((HUGS)))))))
    And there wasn't anything you could didn't fail him.

  3. Sorry you are/were having such a bad day. I suppose this is all part of getting through your grief.

    I must say that I'm glad you are having good days too, though. Days when you don't think about it. xx

  4. Dear Ronni,
    I'm having some grief moments myself right now. Different issues, but still I hate this along with you.

    (((HUGS))) and wishes for a better tomorrow.


  5. While reading you post, it struck me that unrequited love offers an element of hope .. death is not so generous.

    I am sorry you are hurting.

  6. I was thinking something along those lines today. Not so much the element of hope, because I had resigned myself to the thought that her would never be interested. But, we were friends. I never did anything to mess that up. And I was his favourite stage manager when he was directing a show at Sam Bass, so there was always the possibility of working with him.

    All gone.

    This is a very lonely place.

  7. I am completely surrounded my no "my Jim" too. I hear loud and clear everything you wrote in your blog.

    Today is my birthday-it used to be a big deal--tonight a ate a small bowl of potato chips and watched TV with OUR DOG--NOW MY DOG.

    But for all the years it was steak and champagne--I am grateful. It does get easier--sort of.


  8. Oh, Susan...birthdays are hard!

  9. Belated Happy Birthday, Susan. So sorry about the sadness that comes with it.

  10. Ronni:

    You are so right. It gets easier in a different way. But I did cry yesterday--

    Today I made myself a cake--hopefully I am snapping out it.