Gary Sturgis's Blog
April 18, 2020
My Life Now - 6 Years Later
I remember after my spouse died, I went into the local post office and the very nice lady at the counter handed me my mail, offered her condolences, and shared sadly, “I lost my daughter in a car accident.” I’m so sorry. When did you lose her? “Fourteen years ago,” adding solemnly, “You never forget.”
She’s not the only one to echo that sentiment to me. And six years out from the death of my spouse, it’s certainly been true for me. I still grieve. I have healed the pain but the grief is forever.
Sometimes my memories are happy, warm, funny, and uplifting. And sometimes they are…well, they are not so nice. I’ve been going through some of the not-so-nice times lately. It’s been an unfortunate, and terrible blend of sadness over the current pandemic and all the lives lost. My job as a healthcare worker adds to the memories of my spouse’s suffering as I see others experiencing the same pain and loss.
When I give advice to caregivers, I always mention to try to take care of themselves. I tell them we are all in it for the long haul. Little did I know how important my advice was for myself! But I was willing to pay that price for my spouse. What other choice was there! I loved. I lost. And I was thrown into a world I never wanted to know. Now I am seeing others going through it daily. Again, I have no choice. My heart tells me to do what I must do. Help others that need me.
I worry that the people I love the most will die. That I will be the cause of it because of what I do for work. My faith in life’s goodness and purpose has been severely tested. And many times, it’s been difficult to find my way out of the darkness. And it’s not only the loss of my spouse, but also the loss of blissful ignorance of what life is capable of. When we’re young, or when bad things haven’t happened yet, you think you’re going to live forever. And then the bad things happen, and you learn what CAN happen. And once that information exists you just can’t forget it. Ever!
I have decided just because the person I loved the most in the word died, that I will continue to help others, despite the threat of them being taken away. And if they are, celebrate that I had something that death itself cannot claim. Love.
She’s not the only one to echo that sentiment to me. And six years out from the death of my spouse, it’s certainly been true for me. I still grieve. I have healed the pain but the grief is forever.
Sometimes my memories are happy, warm, funny, and uplifting. And sometimes they are…well, they are not so nice. I’ve been going through some of the not-so-nice times lately. It’s been an unfortunate, and terrible blend of sadness over the current pandemic and all the lives lost. My job as a healthcare worker adds to the memories of my spouse’s suffering as I see others experiencing the same pain and loss.
When I give advice to caregivers, I always mention to try to take care of themselves. I tell them we are all in it for the long haul. Little did I know how important my advice was for myself! But I was willing to pay that price for my spouse. What other choice was there! I loved. I lost. And I was thrown into a world I never wanted to know. Now I am seeing others going through it daily. Again, I have no choice. My heart tells me to do what I must do. Help others that need me.
I worry that the people I love the most will die. That I will be the cause of it because of what I do for work. My faith in life’s goodness and purpose has been severely tested. And many times, it’s been difficult to find my way out of the darkness. And it’s not only the loss of my spouse, but also the loss of blissful ignorance of what life is capable of. When we’re young, or when bad things haven’t happened yet, you think you’re going to live forever. And then the bad things happen, and you learn what CAN happen. And once that information exists you just can’t forget it. Ever!
I have decided just because the person I loved the most in the word died, that I will continue to help others, despite the threat of them being taken away. And if they are, celebrate that I had something that death itself cannot claim. Love.
