I would have never thought this was possible. Especially in the early days. when my heart hurt so much I thought I would implode. But when people came by the house, helped me plan the service, helped me pack and move when I could barely put one foot in front of the other, I felt it then. That bloom in the chest like I had not experienced before.
It literally feels like my heart swells up.
I have always been an empathetic person. But now? It’s like it’s taken over me. Maybe because Charles was an empath. Maybe it’s just a byproduct of devastating loss.
When I hear a story, I literally feel it. In my case, I stop short of actually absorbing it as Charles did. As those who suffer from depression often do. I have to have boundaries to do the work I do. Otherwise it would drag me underwater.
I think for some who haven’t dealt with their grief, feeling this new depth of love might be illusive. You can’t deny grief and find it.
This depth of love is the gift of the healing process. It’s the gift your loved one left behind for you. Please pay it forward in their memory.
I had to find a new purpose for living after my son, Ray, died at the age of 39. I explored many options; one of the ones I settled on was becoming a hospice volunteer. It is so incredibly humbling to have perfect strangers be so grateful for the little bit of time I give them. They often have dementia but they know I’m a new friend and thank me for coming. It’s all hard work, but I do it in Ray’s memory–because I know he would be proud of me and he loved older people. 🙂
Wow. I love how you have turned your grief into something positive.