Today I went to a doctor's office here that I hadn't been to before, so they got all of my medical history and insurance information. Well, since I have Tricare, I just gave them my military ID. The receptionist made a copy and then we had the following conversation-
Receptionist- Ok, is it active duty or retired?
Me- Uh.... what? Oh, for the Tricare?
Receptionist- Yeah, active duty or retired?
Me- *big fat pause* Uh..... neither? I don't know, I'm pretty sure I have Standard
Receptionist- *big fat pause* OH, I'm sorry.
At first I didn't think she *got* it, but then I realized she did. Oh well, I'm used to people finding out.
Then when I went back into the room, the nurse took all of the same medical history I filled out when I got there. She asked my marital status, and after yet another big fat pause, I told her widowed. I'm still not used to that yet. Yes, I am well aware that I'm a widow, but I feel married. I feel like my marital status IS married. So, here is where we have ANOTHER big... fat... pause. "How OLD are you?!" I told her, 21, and she immediately asked if he was in the military. Yup. Then she went on to tell me about her paratrooper brother and all of his deployments. I didn't even clarify that Steve died stateside, by a stupid accident. Honestly, I hate that it matters to people how old I am and how he died.
Days like this make me wonder if the nurses wait until I've left the office before they talk about the poor 21 year old whose husband died, or if that's what I could hear them whispering about outside the door.
I have been reading your posts for a while, but have not commented in part because I don't want to intrude. I know, weird, right?
ReplyDeleteFirst, let me finally tell you how sorry I am that Steve died. How horrible for you. I can't even imagine how you feel.
I don't know anything about military things, though I have been educating myself. (Which is how I ended up here, among other places.)
I do know about pain and sadness from my own life experiences, and about what it feels like to be in intense emotional pain and trying to figure out which way is up at 21, though. And believe me, it is hard enough just being 21. I also know what it means to be on the other side of that, and to go on with a life worth living. Which is why I am writing.
Please imagine right now that I'm talking in a really gentle, soft and caring tone when I write this, and not lecturing you. Typewritten words can be so harsh.
It matters not one bit or whit why your beloved guy died. He died. You have every right to be as broken as the next person who has lost a spouse. There is no hierarchy in death, and no hierarchy in loss and mourning. There is not even any reason why your loss is any less of a loss than a woman who loses their spouse after being married for a year, 10 years or 50. You lost your beloved, that is all that matters. You have a right to feel every single bit of loss and pain and anger that comes along with that experience.
As the mourning spouse, there is no rule book that says you even have to explain to anyone how or where Steve died. You can look at someone and whisper, it's too fresh, I can't talk about it. And one day you will understand that you got dealt a really crappy hand that entitled you to any behaviour you exhibit this year (and following ones until you find that new normal).
I hope you can hear this in the spirit it is written. I feel your agony, and your loss. I have stayed, reading despite feeling a bit like a voyeur, because I knew one day I would know what I would want to say to you to hopefully lend you some comfort. I'm sending lots of (((((HUGS))))).
Sometimes it's best to just let people talk and come to their own assumptions....and walk away. Nothing they can say to you or you to them is going to help you, so just let the cards fall. Someday you'll come to terms with saying "deceased" or something of that nature, and you'll get used to the looks. It'll never become easy or not make you feel something, but it'll become more normal.
ReplyDelete