“Anybody can become angry — that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way — that is not within everybody’s power and is not easy.” Aristotle
An emotion had found me that I did not know what to do with – Anger. I was angry all the time. It was justified I would tell myself. I had a right to be angry. Illness had taken my loved one and I was without my partner. All was definitely not right with the world as my life had changed and I was pissed off.
I would try to keep myself together but all I had to do was get in car and the first mistake by the ass driving next to me would bring up anger not fitting for the situation. I was walking through my life as if it was ok to take my rathe out on: the inconsiderate driver, the slow attendant at the store or the person on the other end of the line. The problem was that it was never the right person. So, who was the right person?
It took me a while to realize that I was angry at him and at me. Share on XIt took me a while to realize that I was angry at him and at me. I was angry that he did not take care of himself through the years, that we did not do more while he was well, that we did not have more time together. But I was really angry that he lived through that horrible surgery just to die fourteen days later. I was angry that he fucking died and left me alone.
I found that I was feeling like I had no purpose, no direction and no clue as to what to do next. Something had to change because even in my grief I knew that it was not ok to live life this way. The anger I was expressing was leaving a path of destruction from which I would not be able to get through in one piece.
So, I picked up the telephone and spoke with friend. She suggested that I write a letter to him about my anger and disappointments. Once I had written this letter, I made my way to the cemetery. I was filled with apprehension but once I reached his grave, I read the letter. With tears flowing and some sobbing I was able to say the things that I had kept hidden but felt in my heart. Leaving I felt a little lighter not really knowing if it was due to the letter or the tears and emotions that I had shed at his gravesite.
It is fifty-six days since my loved one passed and yes, I still get angry but I find that I am making my way back to a better place as I recognize that the anger most certainly is a part of the grief process and one that I am in the middle of.
