When Me and You Became Me Myself

A Reflection on Grief, Mourning and Emerging Growth

It felt more like a Death than a Divorce. Memories and tears flowed when I came home, or walked from room to room, cooked, or ate, or went to bed alone. The house seemed empty, quiet, and lonely. Very lonely.

So much to do. Closets to pack, house to clean, stuff to store or bring to the thrift store. And then to move to a new place. And after that, to somehow move on.

Grieving felt like death. You were gone now, in another place, and I had no access to you, except through memories of the past and imaginary conversations. Without a present I couldn’t imagine a future. Just more of the same - no emails, no texts, no calls, no cards. No nothing.

My wedding ring became the headstone over the grave of our marriage. I finally removed it from my finger once it no longer pictured the life we shared. The circle was broken.

So I wore it on a chain around my neck to share space with the cross of Jesus that my mother gave me long ago. There, it hung hidden from view, except when I showered or changed clothes, or held it to my chest in bed at night.

My ring became my place to mourn. A safe place to drain my tears, to help heaving become breathing again, to calm myself, and then walk away. Until tomorrow. I visited my ring as often as I needed, until I didn’t need it so much, or in the same way anymore. Then I felt able to place it in its original box, which I keep in a drawer with pictures and other things that make me smile.

Our Shared Life made an indelible mark upon me. A deep impression, like the one that my ring pressed into my finger, which has filled and smoothed a bit over the years, but remains clearly visible to my trained eye.

Not a day goes by that I don’t find myself doing or saying something that I learned from you. No day passes without grateful thoughts that make me smile or even laugh. Little by little I’m growing into Me-Myself, whom I never would have known without You-Yourself.