Grief and the Pain of Loneliness

by Cowboy Bob Sorensen 

Bereavement is confusing in many ways, including how it has common elements among people but many aspects are also unique. When I lost my beloved Charlene ten months ago, I also lost my best friend of twenty-four years. We lived alone, and I am still alone. Charlene and I had no children, and her daughter from her first marriage died several years ago. My children have no use for me.

Other people have lost spouses, children, parents, friends, and others. Their pain will vary. In many cases, surviving family members can share burdens and give each other emotional support. Churches can also be helpful. Still, that loss can be felt more keenly at certain times.

Lonely Cowboy Bob looking out the window, image modified with dream effect and more

There are times I want to tell her about things at the workplace that would interest or amuse her. I would have liked her opinion on the graphic I was making for this article, and she would have been amused at the setup and camera timer. Sure am glad pictures are pretty much free nowadays.

We were pretty much loners and kept to ourselves. A counselor pointed out that this came around to hurt me because I don't have a support network. Even so, I still want to be left alone to get things done. (If someone wanted to visit, I need to plan for it instead of having a drop-in.) Also, I have no family within 1,500 miles or more.

Praying helps. I talk to God about things on my mind, questions, fears, doubts. Sometime sessions are less than a minute, others are longer.

Don't be disunderstanding me and think I'm getting into spirit stuff, but she is here with me. There are all sorts of things to remind me of Charlene. Sometimes it's what she taught me. (I sniffed the cold cuts before making my lunch for the next day...I ain't eatin' that!) Wistfully thinking that a couple of television shows I found would be to her liking. Trying to remember how she cleaned certain things, and how she went about cooking. And the pictures, of course. I have some pictures of her to gaze upon.

On Sundays before church, I do the laundry. Throw it in the washer and then take the short drive to a store to buy a few things. I miss her so much...almost started crying in the store. It was a mite surprising, since I have been having fewer reactions lately and I'm not keeping the facial tissue industry in business myself (that is, there were many severe crying spells). But I kept it together to finish that errand, the laundry, and some others before going to church.

In the first few weeks after Charlene died, counselors were asking me what I was doing. They didn't want me spending too much time alone, especially since I wanted to off myself at one point. What was I doing? At first, there were legal matters (Surrogate Court voluntary administration, for one), financial things, the grief fog causing me to wonder if I was losing my mind or if I was going to die, and other things. Also, my triple-bypass open-heart surgery was a month before she died. (See? Unique aspects of bereavement.) Eventually, I was allowed to go back to my job.

Although I had telephone therapists, being with people was essential. Although corporate of my job is not worth much of my respect, I have great esteem for the local supervisors and many of my coworkers. This and going to church have helped.

An opposite is to go on my nature outings; adventuring. We were doing rail trails and mild hikes until her condition deteriorated, and we expected to resume them after her surgery. I take pictures and share them. Some are direct tributes to Charlene.

I mentioned wondering if I was losing my mind. That is another aspect of the grief fog, which includes confusion and sleeplessness. Occasionally those things still crop up. I'm almost sixty-five, but could I forget Charlene? Aside from the reminders of our time together, I've labeled computer files and other things a bit excessively. Writing my creation science posts and articles help keep my mind active. So does writing this one — and a few others, several of which I consider ministries to other people.

Loneliness will never go completely away, but I have to face it when it gets dominant. Otherwise I have work, duties, church, writing, and other things to keep me occupied. They help, and are far better than sitting in this apartment fretting about how I will dispose of her belongings. No hurry. Although I still hurt a great deal, it's not overwhelming as often as it was. Crying is helpful and even necessary on occasion, and don't let anyone tell you differently. Above all else, I have the blessed hope that we'll be together again in Heaven. All the pain will be gone.