I have always put in too many hours sitting in front of my computer. It used to be a major part of my work-life but even after I retired I seemed to find activities that would end up with me hunched over a keyboard, inviting an aching neck and shoulders. Still do! 🙂
I also remember many times while I was immersed in my work at the desk that I would feel strong hands coming from behind me, deftly massaging the tight muscles. “You’re working too hard,” my husband Norbert would say while his fingers found the knots in my neck. “You need a break. Why don’t you stop for a coffee?”
Oh, how I miss loving hands on my shoulders. I miss the “You’ll be OK” hug when I was feeling down. I miss the peck on the cheek as he ran out the door. I miss hugging him. And I miss intimacy.
This post isn’t meant to be a maudlin list of everything I’ve lost since Norbert died though, as I like to keep things a lot more pragmatic and useful. The loss of touch though is…well….a touchy subject! If you no longer have your partner it’s not a craving that is easily replaced.
There are some things you can do that make the loss of touch a little less brutal though. Nothing will fill the gap left by your loved one, but some things might help.
I have a friend called Carmel who is an expert in grief support. Why do I think that? Because without her, I’m not sure I would have survived the first night. I’ve asked her to write a Guest Post…….
Hi, I’m Carmel. I had been out for the day and arrived home around 4pm and decided to check my emails. There was one that had the subject heading ‘Norbert killed in a tragic accident‘. Wha…????
The clouds were grey and hanging low in the sky when I got into my car and drove away from my home. The heavy skies were threatening rain, and the weather matched my mood as I took a deep breath, and fought to regain the tight control I had had on my emotions and well-being for some time. But…it felt like things were going off the rails.
I wasn’t always grieving. In fact I used to be a person who tried to support others. Looking back I think I did this very badly though. In fact, I am appalled at the incredibly inappropriate things I said to these poor people, and the expectations I had of them. Yes…expectations! I actually expected them to come halfway so that I could feel OK too! Sheesh! 😫
“Do you have someone to stay with you tonight? No? Then you’ll need to sign a Waiver.” The nurse admitting me to hospital for surgery gazed at me before pushing a form across the desk and indicating where I was to sign. I was relinquishing their responsibility in this matter. This is a story about one of the aspects of being a widow (or even just being single) that you don’t even think of…until it happens.