On traveling alone

I traveled to Los Angeles this past weekend for my every-6-month checkup appointment with my cardiologist (it's a long story as to why I see a cardiologist so far from home. By the way, the appointment went well, everything is fine). The weekend was MUCH more difficult than I anticipated because, other than when I went to LA for his funeral (numb the entire trip), this was the first time I've gone to LA (out of countless trips) without Kevin.

So many aspects of the visit triggered loneliness, sadness, and even fear. Waiting at the doctor's office, where Kevin, with the clinical demeanor he normally reserved for his patients (he was a nurse), would always make sure we understood everything the doctor was saying. Visiting our friend who lives in Santa Monica, as we did so many times before. She lives just down the street from Palisades Park, the site of our wedding almost three years ago. Memories, that while very happy, are very painful to relive. That's quite a paradox, which I'm still trying to pick apart and understand.

Spending time with his sister was really hard - not because I don't like spending time with her, she's wonderful and I love her, but again, so many memories. Same thing with his dad.

Hell, for that matter just arriving at LAX...pulling up to the departures terminal...going through security...waiting for my flight. All those things that we did together, so many times, became almost unbearable to face alone.

But face them I did, and while I nearly dissolved into a puddle of tears and sobbing a few times over the course of the weekend, I made it.

Bittersweet weekend

I sing with the New Mexico Gay Men's Chorus. This weekend we had our Pride performances, which were the final performances of the season. All three performances went well, and I really enjoyed the whole season!

I have come to really depend on the sense of family I feel with the guys in the chorus; after all, they've been there for me when I needed their love and support these past couple of months. Now there will be no weekly trips to Albuquerque (about an hour from where I live) for rehearsal, not until September. I don't know what I'm gonna do without them this summer.

Sure, I'll probably see a few of the guys at some point during the summer, but it won't be like being in the same space with the whole group at once, singing in harmony. I'm afraid it's going to be a rough summer.

Jealousy & bitterness

I've caught myself several times in the past couple of weeks feeling extreme jealousy and bitterness towards people I see experiencing a very specific form of happiness. It's not like I'm jealous of or bitter towards everyone who's happy, but I am very much so towards "the happy couple".

For example, when I see a wedding on a TV show, while everyone else is shedding tears of joy, I'm shedding hot, angry tears of jealousy and sadness. When I see a couple holding hands, walking down the street, smiling and having an intimate conversation, I feel an almost uncontrollable sense of loneliness as well as bitterness towards them.

It isn't their fault, and I feel ashamed for feeling this way. But I can't help it. I want what they have; I want back what I had before it was taken away from me. It's so unfair!

While our relationship and our marriage wasn't perfect, it was mostly good and mostly happy; and Kevin and I did a lot of work to keep it that way. We worked on communication, we saw our therapists (both our individual therapists and our couples therapist) regularly; in short, we did everything in our power to keep our wedding vows. So to have all that so unceremoniously yanked away feels like a huge cosmic insult on top of injury.

I'm repulsed by these feelings I have; they stain my conscience and defile my sense of well-being. How do I get rid of the jealousy and bitterness and replace them with positive feelings towards these unsuspecting happy couples?

Making a difference

My husband Kevin was a big supporter of Youth Heartline (www.youthheartline.org), a nonprofit based in Taos, NM, which has as its mission "to make life safer and better for vulnerable children and families in the community", which it carries out through outreach & advocacy programs, supervised visitation monitoring, an afterschool enrichment program, and more. 

Yesterday, I was told that their board of directors voted unanimously to name their endowment fund the "Kevin Wolff Endowment for Youth Heartline" (name subject to slight change, to make it "flow" better).

I am overwhelmed with emotion at this announcement - it is such an honor to Kevin's memory, and the endowment (which he helped start) will help secure the future of the vital programs and services that Youth Heartline provides. In an uncertain political climate where absolutely nothing is safe from funding cuts on the whims of our current leadership, private funding for these programs and services is needed now more than ever.

Please read more about the essential work that Youth Heartline does at www.youthheartline.org. Then make a donation. You can make a one-time contribution, set up a monthly contribution, or even have Amazon donate each time you make a purchase through their Amazon Smile program! Every donation helps, no matter how large or small.

Anger

I'm angry.

This has been building over the last few days, and I finally identified it on my way to work this morning. It's funny how we can recognize some emotions as soon as we feel them, and others take a while to sink in.

But anyway, I'm angry. I'm angry at Kevin for leaving me. We were supposed to grow old together. Now I face the possibility -- perhaps the likelihood -- of growing old and dying alone. I'm angry at the disease that took him from me. It's so unfair and fucked-up and his death was so pointless.

And I get angry sometimes when I see a couple happy together. I know that's wrong, I should be happy for them. But I just get envious and bitter because that's something that has been taken away from me. Then I feel ashamed for feeling such envy.

I hate feeling this way - I know it's normal in this situation to have these emotions, but it's difficult to reconcile all the conflicting feelings, and I hate most of all feeling powerless over them. Sadness, relief, despair, hope, anger, you name it - they churn and bubble up and I don't know what I'm going to feel at any given time.

Hope

I ran across this exquisite poem on Medium.com. I really needed to hear this today. I hope the author doesn't mind me sharing it.

On the Rocks by Mike Essig

Grief is love’s final act.
A scent. A shirt. A house.
Memory in a bottle
brimming with loss
your soul wants to imbibe.
The bottle belongs on a shelf,
but won’t stay closed.
It wants to pop open
and spill all over you.
Love your losses but beware.
Do not make a habit of despair.
The world overflows
with broken hearts.
No one can live every day
drenched in sorrow.
We live today or not at all.
Drink only when you must,
and take each swallow
with a chaser of Joy.

This gives me so much hope, reminding me that I will get through this.

Wandering aimlessly

I'm so lost without him. I don't know what I should do next. It's really difficult to explain - it's like my sense of direction for my life has vanished. It's not as if I don't have a purpose, it's more like I no longer know how to aim it, what to focus it on. I can't say I have nothing to look forward to, because I do, and I am. I have so much to accomplish, yet I'm just spinning my wheels most of the time.

I don't possess the words to describe adequately how I feel.... These are the best I can come up with:

Wandering aimlessly through the forest;
Set adrift on the sea;
Floating in the vastness of space;
Abandoned in the desert;
Drifting on the wind;
Lost in the eerie quiet of the fog;
Alone in an unfamiliar place, in the dark;
Locked out in the cold.

Will I ever feel normal again? What's "normal"? I don't know anymore. But I'm not going to give up, can't give up. People are counting on me. I have so much love to give and receive. I still have hopes and dreams, believe it or not. I just need time to clear my head, to ponder what it all means.