Friday, September 4, 2026

Closing (?) Another Chapter In The Grief Book



In the never ending battle to to get rid of Stuff That We Don't Need Any More, I was confronted with two large bags that contained, literally, hundreds of cards and pieces of mail.  One bag contained notes that Marilyn had received and saved over the years since we moved into this house back in 2010.  Thank you notes, birthday and anniversary cards, and just general "how are you doing" kinds of cards, and, of course, Get Well cards.  Also included in this bag were many, many pictures that had been sent to her by various friends and family members. The second bag was filled with all of the condolence and sympathy cards that I had received after she died.

I honestly had not looked at these cards at all in the almost five years since she died, and I figured that it was time to move on and purge myself of these.  So I sat down one night and spent over two hours doing just that.  Of course, all kinds emotions were stirred when I did this.  I shed some tears, and I smiled a lot.  Some of these notes have prompted me to reach out to some people with whom I have not been in touch for some time.  I was also struck by the fact of how many of the people who sent me their condolences five years ago are now no longer with us. Some of the notes and photos are being sent back to people in the hopes that it will bring up good memories and make them smile too.  While I have indeed gotten rid of the large bulk of these cards, I have held onto some things that I am just not ready to let go of.

It is not for me to tell anyone how to deal with grief and the loss of someone you love, although plenty of people have told me (as recently as yesterday) how I "should" have acted after Marilyn died.  The Grief Journey never ends, and the timeline is different for everyone.  This little exercise that I did this week took me five years to accomplish. Some people may have done the same thing within a month of their loss. Some people will never do it.  And some people will always judge you for it, no matter how you deal with it.  I was reminded, although I didn't need to be, of just how lucky I was to have Marilyn in my life for almost fifty years, and I was also reminded how incredibly fortunate I am to have found another love with Linda in this Second Act in my life.  

I have been and still am, to quote Lou Gehrig, "the luckiest man on the face of the earth."