Friday, October 1, 2010

Delayed Reactions

My husbands been grieving a lot about our loss in the past few weeks.  It seems as though the struggles he was having before and during our loss were more painful at the time than our loss, which he felt was filled with miracles and's true...our loss was truly full of beauty, though I couldn't quite feel good about any of it at the time.  Beauty and miracles meant little to the pain of empty arms and longing for what I would never get back.   So...I mourned....screamed....sobbed....felt the numb crazed feeling that it MUST have all been a horrible dream...that it COULD NOT have been real. 

A year and a half later....I have been watching my husband cry...mourn...sobb.  The release of his more core pain is allowing him to finally really feel the depth of what...of who....we lost.  Our little twins.  The boys that should have been running around causing us double trouble...double joy...aren't. 

My sweet husband looked at me yesterday with tears in his eyes....."Sara...our twins....oh god....."

I feel his pain.  I'm in awe over the delayed reaction.  I'm stunned by the reality of core issues needing resolution if one is to be in touch with their feelings.  ALL their feelings.  Now that I see him, and he sees that I see him....he is free to really feel.  But how I wish I could free him from feeling this pain. 

Men are curious to me.  I have I happen to be of the mindset that the men, yes...even the white men, of our world are treated pretty poorly overall.  Yes, they are dominant...they are "in charge"....our patriarchal society tends to elevate them much more quickly than women or people of color.  Yet, I see it everyday in every nook and cranny.  Men are dismantled.  Taught to be a certain way, to like certain things...and god help you if you happen to fall outside the norms of society.  God help you if you are sensitive, intuitive, balanced, or artsy.  We put our boys into hard knocks expecting them to come out cool, tough, strong, and pragmatic.  Especially...more than 

So, what does "cool" look like?  Well, to looks like a little boy that was told he couldn't play with a bake set....can't wear pink....shouldn't melt at the sight of a newborn...should be turned on by big boobs and long female legs...oh...yeah...and he mostly shouldn't really cry...and if the truth must be hidden to avoid the tears...all the better.

That's not my guy.  It's not how I'm raising my boys.  But, I can see that I'm against society.  I see it every day with the little boy baby's wearing camo, or onesies with tough guy statements.   I see it in commercials where little boys are told that to be a BIG boy they need a friggin TONKA truck.  oh.  yeah.  I get a beefhead.  Fix cars.  Like tools.  Chop wood.  Carry Water.  "Me big man like steak and sexy women.  Me have big penis and little brain." 


What ever happened to the shamen of the world?    What happened to drum circles where the men played and danced alongside the women?  What happened to our elders?  What happened to honoring the spiritual...not just the religious?

I've walked through almost 16 years of life with the dearest man I've met, and even he has had to hide...struggle...delay his emotions over tragedy.  Even he has had to question where he fits in this testosterone filled world where men scream at women, drink too much, and itch their balls while they watch sports they can't even play.

My husband is having a delayed reaction to loss.  It is hurting him deeply. 

But I am relieved. 

I am relieved because it tells me that a sticky layer of "SUCK IT UP" has been removed.  Now he can cry.  Now he can feel. 

Now...he can be himself. 

Boys are tender.  Keep them that way.  We don't need to dismantle their souls to make them men.  In truth, the only way men will become whole is for the whole paradigm of "normal" to get flushed away.  We are spirits first.  Honor the spirit...and the men...and women...will thrive.

Healing will be found. 


  1. I just wanted to say that I am thinking of you and your husband... XO

  2. Oh, this breaks my heart. There is one picture I have of my husband, taken in the NICU as he stands behind me while I'm holding one of the twins. I cannot look at the picture. Not because of the baby, but because of the look on his face. This look of pure and utter destruction. He is destroyed. And it just kills me :( I wish I could help him grieve, I wish more things helped him. :( Thinking of you and your husband.

  3. I am sorry for his sadness but I am glad that he has reached the point to feel, letting those feeling be seen and not hidden. Give him a great big ((HUG)) from me.

    I came over to bring you an award that I received on For Your Tears.


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