Lights Out

Written Sunday, October 27, 2019 / Day 76 / Late Morning

I found it interesting on that first terrible night home that I had to sleep with a light on. We have a small bath off our bedroom with an attached stand-up shower and it has it’s own light. I switched it on.

I found that odd.

I wasn’t particularly afraid of anything that I could discern but still I needed that light.

Generally I have found that I have more lights on at night. I flip on the one in the bedroom and over my computer desk. Although there are two main lights on timers, I recently dug up an additional new timer and hooked it up so that the light in the “desk room’ as we call it - has a light on after dusk.

When I return home after being at my son’s - which is most evenings, I go through my lights on process. There are already those two on, but I dutifully go through the house and turn on those extra lights.

Perhaps light is my companion for the time being.

I can’t see where I feel any better with the lights on - but it is a definite element that I seem to need. I feel unsettled when they are off.

When I temporarily moved to the guest room before I left for Buffalo on the 15th of October, I had a small wall light on in the room. When I returned I left a light on in the main bedroom.

I’m not sure if this has contributed to my sleep struggles - it is really difficult to have any concept of how I am doing.

At my first coping with the loss of a spouse grief class they had a form to fill out - the “grief scale”. Analytics of my condition seem to get me going lately. I really don’t want to be bothered with measuring this awfulness. Quite a statement coming from the over-active systems analyst that I am.

But since it was the class I took a shot at it.

There were 18 topics - a short description of each - then a scale from 1 to 10 to rate your perception of that item. 1 as nothing and 10 as severe.

I was amazed at how many areas there were that did not bother me at all.

I am eating, I am not nervous, I am not anxious nor fearful or guilty.

Actually for 10 of the 18 items I scored myself a 1. 

The rest were in the low to mid range with only sadness and sleep being extreme for me.

On their scale.

This is my contention - those analytically minded people some who have no real experience with grief try to put us in a box. Their goal I’m sure is to try to help. Right now - for me though - I’ll just muddle through what I am muddling through without the play-by-play analytical commentary on my condition.

If I had a mind to - I’d make up my own. But that’s not how I’m operating right now. 

For me, writing has been a blessing. It is not like taking an aspirin - this headache of my life right now is not going to go away. Nor, at its core will it ever be eliminated.

For me I see signs though.

I moved back to the main bedroom last night. After these past few days I have been experiencing titanic emotional moments since my return from the Buffalo trip to where my wife met and we had moved from in 1987.

Perhaps they are a transition to the next step.

Instead of studying my state to find out how I am on some analytical scale, I might instead fill out some forms to assess my state. Or I could notice what’s right around me.

Notice the subtle changes that have more meaning that I will ever know, nor will any pundit ever be able to express.

I moved last night to the main bedroom.

And I turned the light off.