Second Innings - New Beginnings

There’s no way around it. There’s no way to continue, or rather begin, my journey without saying those words which still clog my throat.

8 months ago, I lost my husband to cancer. He was 40 years ago.

I lost my best friend, my love, my co-conspirator… my everything.

My kids lost their father…their hero.

There, now it’s out in the open.

I have had face-to-face conversations with people, Whatsapp’d friends, shared things on Facebook…all the while not being able to say these words which were screaming in my mind.

Some people obviously found out immediately…close friends, family; the tributes from my husband’s friends poured in on Facebook.

But what of people who didn’t know me intimately, people who I met newly, after my life fell apart?

How on earth did I talk to people, what did I say to introduce myself?

“Hi, I’m Sheela. I just lost my husband. I am a widow.”

Yeah, that’s cheerful.

You might be wondering what the hell I’m doing, wondering how to talk to people, how people will react to me, after I just dropped a bomb like this.

The fact is, next to coming to terms with my grief and loss, the truly hardest thing I’ve had to face is talking to people.

The look of shock, followed by the pity. They don’t realise it, but it’s there.

I now realise why my husband, Sri, was so fiercely private, not wanting to share even the news of his illness with anyone, not even his closest friends.

“It’s my battle,” he would say. “Telling others is not going to change anything.”

I couldn’t understand his viewpoint, until one night he was rushed to the ICU with breathing problems. Many family members came running, thinking that this was it. When I commented that the news spread despite him being so careful, he reacted angrily that he couldn’t stand look of pity in people’s eyes when they found out that he had cancer.

What he left unsaid was that, that look of pity, scared the shit out of him. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep it together, and have faith every single minute, that he would be fine, that he would make it.

That he would see his son and daughter grow up.

That one look of pity unravelled everything.

Obviously, people mean well. I am grateful, from the bottom of my heart, to every bit of help, every kind word, all the courage and support which has been shown to us.

I thank God every day for having such loving and supportive family and friends.

 I am standing right now, and getting through every moment, not just because of their un-conditional support, but more importantly, their unwavering faith that I have the strength to get through this and stand tall – as much for my sake, as for my kids.

But the fact remains that facing life, people, situations,  during or after such an upheaval, is extremely difficult.

Do you pick up where you left off? Do you behave as if nothing has happened? Do you start a conversation casually or with the explanation of your problem/loss?

And so, with this jumble of confusion and emotions, I embark on a new journey.

A second innings.

I know there may many others out there who may have experienced tragedies in their lives. I pray it isn’t so. But, if it is, please do write and share your experiences and feelings. I hope we can all help each other find the peace we are looking for.

Love always,

Sheela

For the Love of Writing/ Writing for Love

My first major life crisis in college, changed my life forever. The greatest outcome of that crisis was that I discovered the joy of writing; and that I was actually pretty good at it. At least, it made me feel good.

It expanded my mind and changed my way of thinking, questioning – forever. A whole new world opened up. 

There was no way my brain was going to readjust to the idea of having information fed to it. Thoughts, ideas were bursting to come out. My sense of self began to show itself. There was no looking back.

My identity began to take shape. I found myself, my voice. The life I always wanted.

Life became busy. The perfect life, the ideal life was calling. The thoughts were still there. The ideas itching to be heard. But they had to bide their time, while more important things took precedence.

Fast forward 12 years.

Today I find myself facing another crisis. One I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dreams. The perfect life shattered, the dreams snuffed out all too soon. And I find my old friend, my comrade-in-arms, coming to my rescue again.

For what greater healer is there than the power of words? My pain, my grief, myriad emotions which I cannot untangle - all clamoring to be set free.

So I will write, Dear Heart! 

I need you now, more than ever, my Forever Friend,

to come to terms with losing my Most Beloved Friend – forever.