I had a conversation yesterday with a widower.
He’s three months ahead of me
He wanted to meet me after his sister, a friend, showed him my black widow photo

It was a conversation that felt good, connected and real.
It was a conversation with laughter and head nodding (which he didn’t see cause we were on the phone.)
It was a conversation of understanding.

It was a conversation of “Oh!! ME TOO!”
It was a conversation of faith.
It was a conversation of regret.
It was a conversation of courage and hope.

It was a conversation that made me sad.
It was a conversation that afterwards made me cry
for all that we both have lost.
It was a conversation that made me sigh for all that we have gained.

It was a conversation that reminded me that with pain comes wisdom
and hope
and
profound tenderness.

It was a conversation that made me realize (again) that while I didn’t want this life, I am moved by it
and
odd enough,
grateful for it.

Grateful because I can have a conversation with a widower and see my inspiring journey reflected in his words.
I can’t wait to talk to him again.