I am sorry that I have missed my Monday posts this month of January. As you can imagine, I have been in a ginormous state of depression (even more than usual) since the holidays. Then, I visited one of me and Jacob’s mutual friends in Chicago. Now, this upcoming week I am going back to Cambridge (a very triggering city because that was the last place Jacob and I ever lived together and the last place he was alive- but I have to take care of some Harvard related business). Then, I head to Montréal, a city I have already talked about being very important to Jacob in a previous blog post, I am visiting my fellow widow friend Élise, who I described in the same blog post. So my posts will be sporadic most of January and February. I will be back on track by March.
Anyway, I visited a close friend of me and Jacob’s in Chicago who we have both known for a decade. Traveling is so difficult but I knew I was going into a safe place. First off – we don’t make plans, he knew I would need a place to cry and tell as many stories as possible – he has so many qualities that are an extension of Jacob’s soul – he is a writer, loves cinema, knows the name’s of every actor like Jacob did, makes films like Jacob, has introspection about “what is the meaning of life?”, and the list goes on and on. One of the most beautiful moments was when he started crying and said “what you and Jacob had was so beautiful I wish I had that so badly. Just for a day.” I held his hand, but every time people tell me something like this I want to say “well, why was it taken from us? We were perfect together. Beyond perfect– we should have been married at a courthouse and had a small ceremony at my parent’s house with native flowers and twinkle lights like we discussed many times over. We should have had our four children – Eli, Ira, Heidi, and Luna. WHY WAS IT TAKEN? And why do all these assholes from high school and college marry total douche bags and get to have these things? UGH! Anyway…
One expression I am getting really annoyed at lately is something of the like – “I think that would be a good change of scenery for you” or “getting out would be good for you.” or “I am so glad you are taking this trip” (do NOT say vacation – none of this is a fucking vacation people). A change of scenery amplifies my grief – Jacob’s eyes cannot see these things. So when I go someplace, it is not only a gigantic step emotionally but it is not anything “fun” or “happy”. It is a goddamn chore to put it lightly. Grief follows you everywhere so it doesn’t matter where I go. I am not suddenly going to forget about Jacob and our beautiful life when I leave my bed. Nor would I ever want to, like I said many times, he is all I think about and all I want to talk about – always and forever. The last poem he wrote to me is tattooed on my arm for God’s sake. People are so weird (again, to put it lightly) in grief – you realize your friends don’t really care and isolation is so common for us. Luckily by removing toxic “friends” from my life, it has opened the door for new positive relationships, such as the fellow widows that have come into my life. Something else I have noticed, especially while in Chicago, is that being out in the world makes me realize how much I miss Jacob even more. TALK ABOUT SHITTY PEOPLE! Literally, when it was just me and Jacob- we could laugh at the idiots of the world, like Notes from the Underground. But now, I am left here. Floating around all these annoying, grotesque people with nothing original to say and nothing of substance. Ugh. And no sense of humor! They all take themselves way too seriously and don’t realize the importance of the present moment. Everyone just sucks. No one is Jacob. No one will ever be Jacob. That realization is fucking brutal. My grief goes from 0 to 100 in seconds in the form of sobbing, anger, and inability to move or speak. This is why I feel I can never live with the real world again. I don’t even recognize myself. Jacob wouldn’t recognize me…but I know he would understand.
I do things for Jacob like usual all the time. I was at a thrift shop and I bought Jacob three little toys I knew he would like. I had to. I just, I had to. I always did that, and I had to do it. I cried as soon as I left because I wanted him to be there with me, I wanted his voice, I wanted his touch. I heard him saying “Baby coos, I love these – I want them on my writing desk. These are perfect.” Being out in the real world is fucking tough and often, “a change of scenery” can do more harm than good (depending on where you are in your grief). UGH. How is life still moving?
So here is my advice to you – and I feel I am the last one to give anyone advice- let your grief lead you where it may. Don’t listen to people’s opinions on what you should do or how you should do it. You are a young widow – barely anyone can relate – so try your best to ignore those comments and when you can’t? Write to your loved one. I write to Jacob all the time. I talk to him all the time – because that was my life for so many years. Talking in person, on the phone, in bed, in the morning. ALL THE TIME. I cry to Jacob and hear his voice in my head every single day- especially when people say insensitive things to me. Because I know he would be so angry that anyone would be causing me any more pain. This is what you have to trust in – they love you more than anything, they are always on your side – just like in life – whether you believe in an afterlife or not – they are on your side. They love you. I remember Jacob once said to me, in tears, “I would die for you Kaitlin. If I pushed you out of the way of a truck and I died, I feel like my life on this earth would be so full of purpose. I truly believe that.” That memory makes me sob uncontrollably – every memory makes me cry – but he was so genuine and sincere when he said that. That was the depth of our love. Because when he said that to me, I had felt that exact same way so many times for him – I just couldn’t express it as beautifully as he could. He was looking at me and holding my hand and telling me how much he loved me. That was and is how deep our love is.