When my husband was first diagnosed a friend suggested I journal. She and I were after all writers. Isn’t that what writers do? Write?
Why? I asked.
So, you’ll remember,” she said.
Yeah, guess what. I didn’t think I’d need written words to remember the pain of watching my husband’s strength drain away. I didn’t need words to remind me of him forcing himself to eat, a man who loved food. I didn’t want those words, didn’t think I needed them. So far, I have no trouble remembering.
Of course, there were good moments too. The days we laughed and visited with others. The hours we spent talking about nothing, because we could. Even the time spent listening to him talk about my future. It hurt my heart, but I knew it gave him comfort.
Good moments, bad moments, either way they did not need to be written to be remembered.
I did return to writing. I do write about that time in my life, but from a different perspective. After all what we need is to know first we can find happiness and our new path in life. And second we want to know how to do that. That’s what I try to share with others.
After all, other women who have buried their husbands understand the pain and anguish that lingers. Feeling another person’s pain doesn’t seem all that helpful. Learning how the other woman coped, survived, and conquered is more important.
What about you? Do you journal?
When your husband became ill, or died, did you journal about the experience?
linking up with Lisa Jo Baker at Five Minute Friday