I’ve heard that amputees often speak of “ghost pain” or “ghost feeling” in the area that is missing. They can look down and see that their leg has been amputated at the knee, but they feel pain or tingling or some other sensation below the knee. I never understood that… until now.
Losing my spouse has been like an amputation. I can look around and see that Grubby’s not here, but I feel him around me sometimes. I know that he’s never coming back, but there are times when it feels like he is going to walk through the door any second. I wait, and I wait, and still nothing.
The night before last, I was sleeping, and I was on my right side. I know this because I felt that presence on my back. The comforter shifted against my body, as though something or someone was in the bed, pushing closer to me. It was subtle, but it was definitely real. I remembered feeling a sense of peace and comfort, feeling as though Grubby was there.
Most of you know that I have three Pugs, so you may be saying to yourself that what I felt was a Pug shifting. That would make sense if the Pugs slept with me, but they don’t. They sleep in their crates at night, until it is a day or two before I change the bed linens. That’s the only time I let them sleep in the bed. They were not in the bed the other night.
What I felt was real, as real as the “ghost feeling” in an amputee’s lost limb. Just like that amputee, those of us who have survived the death of our spouse are forever changed. Everything about us is divided into “before” and “after”. The way we sleep, cook, clean, pay bills, shop, dress, and live has changed. We have had to learn to live without our person, just as the amputee has had to learn to live without the arm or the leg that they had depended on for so long.
I’m a fan of “Survivor” and “The Amazing Race”, both physically demanding shows that have featured amputees competing alongside their non-amputee partners and competitors. The amputees are just as capable as their counterparts, even if they have to do things differently. They’ve had to relearn how to walk, run, and swim with a prosthetic leg, or surf without an arm, and they’ve done it. I know that it wasn’t easy for them, hours upon hours of physical therapy just to be able to live the way they once did. I am sure that they had setbacks along the way, and probably felt like giving up more than once, but they kept going.
As a suicide survivor, I have to continue with hours upon hours of my therapy. I’ve tried everything, except cigarettes and booze, to try to make the pain go away, to try to feel like my old self again. I’ve had good days and, I have had days that felt like setbacks. I’ve wanted to give up more than once, but I keep going. I keep working with my care team. I keep up with my therapy, take my medications, and keep thinking about those amputees. They give me hope that maybe, one day, I will be able to live a life of adventure and fullness like I did before, even if I have to modify the way I live it.
And, I will cherish those rare times of “ghost feeling”, as Grubby reminds me again that I am not alone in this recovery, that he is with me every step of the way…
You are so right.
Very well written, Thank You For Sharing.