Grieving someone who is still alive is a very painful and complicated predicament that can be just as tough as dealing with death. There are various scenarios where this may happen, from breakups or divorces, health issues that impacted the person’s ability to interact with you as they used to, or an addiction that has turned a loved one into someone else. All of these situations are difficult to navigate and everyone’s grieving process may look different.
In my case, my estranged husband has struggled with alcoholism for quite some time—a silent battle he attempted to hide from family and friends. It eventually became something he could no longer keep secret from me and it completely consumed his life in every way possible. My efforts to seek help for him proved futile because he wasn’t ready to admit to himself or others that he had a problem and wanted to change. And that is the only way a person can overcome such a tremendous battle with this vicious disease.
Alcoholism has negatively affected his personal life and gravely impacted his health. For more than a month, he has been fighting for his life in the hospital. His severely damaged liver has wreaked havoc throughout his entire body and mind. He is a shell of his former self and it’s devasting to witness. He is no longer the outgoing, funny man whose big presence could command a room. We can no longer have normal conversations, go on fun family outings together, talk on the phone, or text. This once loving and hands-on father can no longer play with his two sons. He’s here, but he’s not really living anymore. So, the grieving process has already begun for me.
Some days are harder than others. As the quote from Vickie Harrison goes, “Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it’s overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.”
Waiting in a limbo of uncertainty for what’s to come is very hard. I let myself feel my full range of emotions and cry when I need to. But I’m committed to staying strong for myself and my son because it’s the only choice I have. Worrying too much about the future can be too much to bear, especially when thinking about my son having to grow up without a father. Thinking back to fond memories we’ve shared can be bittersweet, but I try to stay in the present. I lean on my support system who have helped me tremendously and try to do things that bring me joy. I’m focused on learning how to find true inner peace in the face of all of the hardship. That’s a journey that will not be easy but is necessary.
“The wound is where the light enters you.”
Rumi
