The circles of us

It's been 10 years since Ian died...

The short story is:

• I was a teenager when I wrote in my diary I was going to marry Ian Pettigrew.

• We were friends then we were work colleagues.

• We were engaged when I was 20 and married 10 days after my 21st birthday.

• We had a fabulous marriage.

• We had 3 kids – GREAT kids!

• Then, for a time, we had an okay marriage.

• Our kids grew up, moved out, then our marriage grew to be incredible!

• From 2004 we worked together again in his family’s business - Pettigrew Family

  Funerals

• In May 2014 we bought his family business.

• Six weeks later he was diagnosed with a brain tumour.

• In December 2015 he died.

I can rattle our story so easily, with little emotion and no tears, because I have told this story so many times. I suppose it’s what happens when you lose the love of your life and you are in the funeral industry.

I have been trained in how to help those who are grieving. I know what to say, and more importantly, what not to say. I know how to guide a family through the funeral process because I know the most important thing a funeral director can do for someone who has just lost someone so dear to them is to help them say a perfect, heartfelt, goodbye.

I have shared my grief journey from the podium on numerous occasions. My story has appeared in newspaper articles, in grief books and journals, and in podcasts, but more importantly I have shared my heart with many, many people who have I have met in my  role at Pettigrew Funerals.

But it wasn’t until Ian died did I come to understand what grief was - what it actually felt  like to lose the person who made living each day so worth it.

I have sat and chatted with many who’s significant other has died, and the question that I’ve been asked the most was “How did you survive this?” followed by “When does it get  easier?”

I survived because you either survive, or you don’t. And when does it get easier – well, in my experience – it doesn’t, not really. Because each day I wake up is another day that Ian doesn’t – and that still tears my heart out! Every wonderful thing that I have experienced over these past 10 years is tinged with a prevailing sadness because Ian was not by my side experiencing it with me. I’ve held 4 beautiful little grandbabies and have had the privilege of watching them grow, which makes me so happy – but so sad as Ian never got to know of their existence let alone hear them call him Grandpa.

When Ian and I were married we vowed to love each other forever – I never realised that my forever was going to be so much longer than his forever.

Recently I was scrolling on Facebook, and I came across a wonderful article. I would say that out of all the articles I’ve read, and seminars on grief that I have listened to, this article was the most helpful to me. Sadly, I didn’t save it so I can’t give the deserved recognition to the author. I wish I could because I owe that person a huge thank you for making a complex matter easier to understand.

You see, I could never understand how, after all this time I was – am - still grieving for Ian. Missing him as much today as I did when he died. I don’t feel complete.

This simple diagram from an unknown author helped me to better understand my grief.

I recognise that everyone’s journey with grief is different. My circumstances, Ian’s and my relationship, plus so many other factors and influences, impact on how we individually cope with grief. So what I am about to say may not line up with you and your story.

Before 19 February 1983 there was Ian. And separate was me.

Once married, our “circles” started to overlap. That overlap is titled “us”.

Over the years of our marriage, as our lives became more entwined our separate identities blurred more. Don’t get me wrong, Ian and I had separate interests as do all couples, but as he and I worked together in a business that we both loved and found so rewarding, our “us” soon grew bigger than each individual. And when Ian died, I just didn’t lose him. I lost the “us” as well. And as you can see there wasn’t much of “me” left. No wonder his death hit me so hard.

So, these past 10 years, and without realising it, I have slowly re-created me without Ian or “us”. Building relationships with my children and their families. Strengthening old friendships and actively nurturing new ones. Making sure I go for a walk each morning and appreciating the fact that I get to greet the sun each day. Travel – whether that’s with friends or being brave enough to travel solo. Enjoying a good book or simply chilling out watching Netflix.

Yes, there are still gaps between each of these when I am lonely and sad – hey that’s okay because sometimes I want to be sad, and being sad isn’t a bad thing – it just happens to be part of who I am now – and that’s okay.

So – Valentine’s Day – it’s a tough day! Whether this is your first, third, seventh, or tenth – it’s a tough reminder of what - I, you, we - have lost. Our person.

What has got me through this past decade is this – I was loved by Ian Pettigrew and I love – present tense – love him still. And even though I am no longer fully me – with hindsight, and if I could go back to 1983 when I vowed to love Ian Pettigrew forever, would I give as much of myself to “us”?

Yes! I wouldn’t change a thing because the payment of deep grief is worth it - to have experienced a love that is a forever love!

But that’s not the end of my talk.

You see, the night I wrote this talk I emailed the PDF to Amy and Garth for their opinion and went to bed.

Now writing down my thoughts has always been my way of making order of the chaos that is inside my head, but sometimes a good night’s sleep can do wonders.

So, the morning after I finished writing those words I woke to an epiphany – that moment of realisation when you suddenly feel that you understand – and I realised that I was looking at these circles all wrong.

Yes, there were two individual circles that overlapped to make “us”.

But here is my epiphany - when Ian died, he didn’t take the “us” part with him. He left it for me!

The memories, the life lessons, our children who are such a reflection of both him and me, our history, our business, and all the wonderful parts of him that he had shared with me for our 33 years of marriage! He left it all with me to care for, nurture and grow. I am not missing anything - I’m complete.

So, Happy Valentine’s Day to me! And may all that was special between you and your special person – your “us” – may all those wonderful memories be at the forefront of our mind especially today. Cherish what was special and remember you were loved and you will love them forever!

With warmth,
Leanne Pettigrew.