Like often happens when I read the rest of the writing team’s posts, Sarah’s post on Sunday struck a chord. I wonder when I’ll get to the point where pretty much the first thing I say to someone isn’t “I’m a widow; my husband died two and a half years ago” or some variation on the theme. And then changes just keep on happening around me that…
Widowed by Illness
Questions
Sometimes, when I allow myself to think of my nebulous future, and whether I’ll ever have a man in my life to love again, and be loved by, I think maybe I’ve had my love story and that’s the end of that. After all, I can’t be greedy, can I? Many people don’t have their love story even once. I had 24 years of a love affair marriage-how can I…
What Time Means. And Doesn’t
Today marks 18 months since my husband died. One and a half years. Forever. He was in the Air Force and often went TDY (temporary duty) in our first years together and mostly I didn’t know where he was during those times and would watch the news to maybe figure it out. But he was never gone for more than a few weeks at a time and then he’d be…
Cadence Count
Moving through grief is similar to moving through deep, dark mud and muck. Lifting your feet to take another step forward takes every bit of determination and strength. Sometimes you look down and you can’t even see your feet, never mind lift them to take that step. When you do lift them, they are covered with mud to the point of not being…
When There are no Words
I can feel my body starving for my husband. It strains outwards, palpable energy reaching outside of myself, only to be left hanging in the void where he used to stand. When I walk anywhere, I find myself keeping my right hand empty, palm open, thinking against all reality that I might feel his hand clasp mine again.What does one do with that…
Mission Accomplished
My Odyssey of Love has brought me and my daughter to New Jersey, where my and Chuck’s primary community lives. We’re here for a few weeks, catching up with friends. It’s tough being here; Chuck had his first cancer here and all the treatments and there is so much pain and grief. And there is, also, so much love. It has been my intent since…
Oh Yes, I’m Running
Our younger son asked me recently, in reference to this full-time life on the road that I’m living, if I’m doing this as a way of running away from the pain and grief. It’s a legitimate question and something I’ve pondered over the last 9 months. He and I spoke frankly about the possibility and I was able to reassure him that it isn’t the case. If…
Without-ness
This is what I wonder. And I wonder this even though my career was in grief support and I led groups and replied to this very same wondering from so many people who graced my groups. Will I ever feel engaged in life again? Will I ever find passion for life again? And energy? Will I ever not feel that I am living without him and therefore I just…
By Any Other Name
I’ve had a bit of an odd thought lately, running through my mind. When Chuck proposed to me 24 years ago, I was ecstatic but had a condition. He had to be okay with me keeping my maiden name. I’d taken it back after my divorce and it had taken work on my part in womens’ groups and counseling to win back the me who’d disappeared for the years of…
Simple Words
I don’t really have any words this week. I miss my husband more than any words can convey. The more time passes, the more months go by, the more deeply embedded his absence from my life becomes. If I were to write a full blog this week, it would consist of I miss you, I miss you, I miss you over and over and over again.It would be written to my…
Changes and Things
We all arrive at that time after our loved one dies where we look around and see what remains. What remains of a person who filled our lives in one way or another or so completely that we look at their physical belongings and are struck with disbelief that this is it. The sum of their existence. My husband and I specialized in not being…
I hate to ask…. again
Saturday morning I woke up with a 103 temperature. So as soon as a reasonable hour hit, I called my parents, asking if they could look after John for the day. On short notice.Again.Yet another thing I hate about widowhood. That sometimes you need to call on assistance to the point where you KNOW it’s impacting others. Maybe asking…