Cracked Open – A New Skin

What is the jumping point for this writing?  Where do I begin?  You are joining me mid-chapter.  So perhaps I need to bring you up to date.  On May 8, my husband Mike went in for a simple surgery.  Two and a half hours and a thousand sorries later, they told me he was gone.  That day has become my line in the sand, life before he passed away and then the everything after.

It has become a skin I had not expected to wear for many, many years.

As any who have experienced loss it is a rollercoaster of emotions.  His fingerprints are everywhere.  There are sudden flashes of memories and then glimpses into a future that no longer looks the same.  But even as I sat huddled in his closet sobbing into his shirts, I knew that this experience would be a unique lens through which to see the world.  From a raw and tender heart, I realize I am seeing things, feeling things in a way that I never have.  From this place, cracked open, I am pulled to share this new journey.  It flickers there, in the darkest corner, curiosity, and a desire to bring this often taboo topic out into the light.  For in exploring death and loss, we truly begin to appreciate life and the sweet mysteries that reside there.

My body trembles, my breath quickens, my heart pounds.  But the journey must go on, one step, one moment, one breath, one hug, one tear, one smile, at a time.

So my fellow travelers, I welcome you aboard.  The flip has been switched on the tracks and we are headed to new lands. Though I don’t have a map to these new territories, my compass points are writing, walks by the sea, movement, and a community of angels I could never have imagined.  I am oddly excited, even through puffy eyes, at this new world becoming.

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18 Comments

  1. You are so brave and remarkably articulate—in describing the unthinkable and unspeakable. Sending you a great big hug and brava for sharing your light and inspiration on even the darkest of days.

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  2. You are so brave and remarkably articulate—in describing the unthinkable and unspeakable. Sending you a great big hug and brava for sharing your light and inspiration on even the darkest of days.

    Reply

    1. The words have been bubbling up along with the tears – it is a relief to release them. Thank you for catching them in your gentle hands.

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  3. Wow Marianne – so sorry for your loss and so privileged to be able to read your words. It is not done with a dry eye. Thank you for sharing and allowing us to join you.

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    1. Thank you for taking the time to read this. This writing is my healing.

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  4. Marianne, so beautifully and eloquently written. Your immense wound is our gift as we take this journey with you. Thank you for your bravery.

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    1. It has been nudging almost from the very beginning. The words pouring onto the paper, the need to set them free.

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  5. So beautifully written, you are so full of courage Marianne. I don’t know you very well & but am so moved by your words & so incredibly sorry for your loss. It’s a big journey ahead & through it I hope you are surrounded with as much love as you clearly give. ❤️

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    1. Thank you for your words. Yes – I have been blown away by the kindness and support from all corners of our lives. The great lesson for me here is to accept.

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  6. Joanne Leavitt May 30, 2017 at 12:22 am

    It’s been over eight years for me and your words still ring true. Thanks for sharing. It is a new world with different opportunities than those we expected.

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    1. New world indeed. What is baffling is I turn around and keep expecting it to be the same…. Thank you for your words.

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  7. When my father died, I made a decision. I was not someone who felt emotions very often, and yet I knew if I did not feel these emotions, the emotions of losing my life-long mentor, friend, father, hearts cherished love, I would forever, be impacted by the loss. And so I made a conscious decision to open wide up and let it flow. At times it would rip me open so fully that I would lose my footing and collapse to the floor, sometimes while walking between the car and the house. And yet… And yet… more quickly than I could have fathomed, the pain eased, the wound scabbed over. My heart became free again. And so I applaud your choice. For me, it was one that set me free. Through my own experience, when I move towards my pain, I expand in ways I never could have imagined. Sending you so much love and strength to dive in and through. Love you, Cari

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  8. When my father died, I made a decision. I was not someone who felt emotions very often, and yet I knew if I did not feel these emotions, the emotions of losing my life-long mentor, friend, father, hearts cherished love, I would forever, be impacted by the loss. And so I made a conscious decision to open wide up and let it flow. At times it would rip me open so fully that I would lose my footing and collapse to the floor, sometimes while walking between the car and the house. And yet… And yet… more quickly than I could have fathomed, the pain eased, the wound scabbed over. My heart became free again. And so I applaud your choice. For me, it was one that set me free. Through my own experience, when I move towards my pain, I expand in ways I never could have imagined. Sending you so much love and strength to dive in and through. Love you, Cari

    Reply

    1. Thank you for those words. Having lost my father in ’99 it is fascinating to see the difference in my choices between then and now. And ‘richer’ is the word that comes to mind with embracing the sorrow, rather than pretending all is right with the world.

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  9. Honored to take this heartbreaking, intimate, soulful and surreal journey with you that will no doubt be peppered with happy memories and funny circumstances.
    XO

    Life changes in the instant. The ordinary instant. ”
    Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking

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    1. One of the great gifts already is the friends, old and new, I am getting to know in different ways.

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  10. Marianne, I just saw this. I am so, so sorry that this is a story that is part of your life. My love and thoughts are with you. I wish you peace and care and comfort on this journey.

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    1. Thank you so much. There is something quite beautiful in those words. The story that is now part of my life. The image / metaphor that keeps coming up is a tapestry being woven, and how we are each other’s threads. Much love to you.

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