The Truth Shall Set You Free

Yesterday, one of the executives in my office asked me how I’m doing. Lot’s of people ask me how I’m doing. Some of them really want to know and others really want to hear that I’m doing well. I understand that. It takes a lot of courage to ask a widow how she’s doing. I appreciate the concern and I understand if some people are hoping that my answer will be a positive one.

I typically give generic answers such as, “Not too shab.” or “Pretty good.” or even “I’m well. Thank you.” I mean, it’s scary for me, too, to go into too much depth about how I feel on a day to day basis, or even an hour to hour basis. My grief changes my mood on a dime more often than not these days. It’s no wonder I have taken to listening to Frank Wildhorn’s “Jekyl and Hyde” CD again.

Yesterday, though, we were behind closed doors, there was nobody else around and I could sense the genuine concern in this man’s voice and see it in his eyes. I told him that I’m coping. It’s true. I am coping. I said that I had never experienced death in my life before and then the person I loved most in this entire world died. He said that I have been amazing and that you wouldn’t know at all that it bothers me at work because I seem to be the same old Robin I have always been. I told him that it doesn’t bother me at work. I feel great when I’m around other people. I love helping others and that’s what I do all day long and when I’m doing my job, I feel great. It distracts me from the darker side of my world, these days. I then told him that I have my moments and that I am definitely grieving and that I know it’s going to take a long, long time to get through this, if there is a “through”, but that I’m coping. I mentioned that more often than not, I turn it in my mind so that I’m remembering and being thankful that I got to spend six beautiful years with the most wonderful man I ever met and when I remember everything I gained by being with him and not think about everything I lost, I feel euphoria. He said that was a wonderful way of looking at it and that he should try to remember that more often in his own life.

It felt so good to give an honest, detailed answer about how I’m doing. It was a release of sorts. After I left his office, I felt lighter and more reflective. I felt freer.