Finding a Place to Breathe

I didn’t realize how shallow my breathing had become after Mike’s death until I found a place where I could breathe again.

Grief is so physically oppressive.  It interrupted my sleep, made my body ache, caused me to suffer from anxiety, and kept me from catching my breath. I spent a night in the hospital because I thought I was having a heart attack. I would drag through the days, the time slowly ticking by.  These symptoms all became normal.  It felt like this would be my life from now on.  I remember looking in the mirror and thinking that I had never seen such a sad face and wondered if I would ever see joy there again.

Visiting the Desert Botanical Garden in Phoenix, Arizona, turned out to be a respite from my sorrow, a place where I could breathe again. I’ve always loved nature, and it was something Mike and I enjoyed together when we were younger. I had only been to the garden once before when we first moved to Phoenix.  I’m not sure what time I first went after Mike died because most of the year was a blur, but it was beautiful.  The diversity of a desert garden differs from the kind I grew up with back east.  Except during the heat of the summer, I started spending time there when I could.  Every time I went, I felt a calmness that escaped me elsewhere.  I would tell my kids that I wanted to be cremated and scattered in nature when I died.

Eventually, I bought an annual pass so that I could go as often as I wanted.  That is the Christmas present that I give to myself every year. It’s a thirty-minute drive to get there, but it’s well worth the gas and travel. I still feel the serenity the minute I walk in.  I love to hear the sound of birds and the quiet trickle of the water from a fountain and see the constant change of the plants.  They all remind me that I am loved.

Finding a place that brings you peace in the storm provides strength to continue the journey of life.