I have lived without him now for two years.
I am not entirely sure what to do with this. There is nothing that needs to be done – I know. There was no special fanfare that marked his two year death day. I observed the day subtly and quietly – on my own. Not surprisingly, no one gave me a medal for surviving two years of widowhood. There was no one dripping praise on me for “dutifully” being Mike’s widow for 24 months. There was just his deadness looming over the day like it does every day.
Still, two years is a significant amount of time. I felt something, but I am not sure what. Marking year two was less significant to me than completing year one of widowhood. November 15, 2018 marked two years; and, next year it will be three, then the year after it will be four years, and then five years, then shortly after it will be a decade. I realize that the awfulness of this date will arrive every year for the rest of my life. And, really what does this mean? Does this date even matter in the big picture? It doesn’t. It is not relevant. His death date is never at date I will “celebrate” because it was the worst day of my life.
Now, after two years, the feeling of Mike being absent, is more familiar than his presence. The life I am living is a wildly altered version of my former life. And, my new life does not fit right yet. Maybe it never will. It is uncomfortable.
I exist in the shadows of our former life and I am not content here. I am restless where I am. But, I do not know how to fix this. In suburbia, without a spouse, you do not fit in with the white picket fence crowd. I am forced to exist in an awkward type of limbo. As a middle aged widow, my heart beats out of time and my breath is laboured because I am completely exasperated by the lack lustre feeling inside me. I continually feel underwhelmed and overwhelmed at the same time. Something has to change…
I am trying to piece together a new life for myself ,but when he died I was not given the blueprints for life as a widow. So, I am designing my new life by trial and error. I rely heavily on my instinct to recreate my life without him. And, to say that it is tedious and exhauting work would be an understatement.
However, despite the obvious terrible things about my life without him; there is something about these “grieving pains” that I don’t altogether hate. Something profound is happening with me. I am just not exactly sure what it is yet. Maybe this is what year three is about. Figuring out what I can do. Finding out what I am capable of. And, discovering who I am – without him.
Whatever the case may be, I have a good feeling about my future. I don’t know why, but I know that I will land on my feet. And, you will too.
Best to you as we live on without the one we love,