I’ve found it difficult to recall the rapidly unfolding events that occurred this week one year ago. 

The beautiful fall weather in the South features lack of the nearly year-round humidity. Clear Cerulean Blue skies. The Scarecrow Festival in downtown St. Marys, GA, the place I now call home. 

I wasn’t able to recall experiencing any of that at all the year prior, however, this year, I’ve tried to focus living in the present, enjoying all of the above, with a new pup and friends. 

Recently, I came to realize that I’d forgotten all the good things in order to not remember all the not so good things that had happened one year ago during this past week, the last in which my late husband, Rich, would exist. 

But during this past week, my archived posts on Facebook have served to remind me of all the chaotic events that swirled around me, and our family and friends, this time last year. 

Update – 10/26 – evening. After a day I don’t wish on anyone, the roller coaster of hope continues. They told me this is hour by hour and they don’t lie. 

And it had been a roller coaster.

Your prayers and intentions are heard and if Rich is meant to remain here with us he must Push.Push. Push.

I believed that the energy, and the collective hopes and prayers of so many friends and family members could rally Rich to make a miraculous recovery. 

But I was painfully aware that I was sending messages to a man, telepathically through a glass window and with caring nurses with no hope of a response.

One nurse at the ICU in the hospital Brunswick, GA, however, told me to keep communicating as he told me that he believed people who are in an induced coma can still hear. He seemed confident of that.

It was a hopeful thought.

So up and down I-95 I sped each day, a 45 minute mind numbing trek each way. My speed fueled by hope and despair depending on the news I’d been most recently delivered; a positive comment made by the current nursing shift or the stark reality presented to me by numbers and graphs. 

Let’s look at the reality of the situation…What do you want to do?

That wasn’t a trick question, unfortunately. 

I gave an honest answer.

I’m not ready to answer that question.

Thankfully, in the end, Rich slipped away on his own terms freeing me of an agonizing decision. 

On the anniversary of his passing yesterday, October 28th, I was graced with a Facebook Post featuring Rich toasting us on our 25th Wedding Anniversary on September 28th. We were fortunate to have celebrated with good friends at the Jersey Shore (NJ-USA), a place we’d called home for many years. 

On that post there were over 300 comments and reactions. The Sending Good Thoughts and Prayers messages now replaced with those expressing condolences and encouragement for me to be strong and to heal.

It has been a Healing Year and despite the warnings that Year Two of Widowhood can be especially difficult, I will proceed hour by hour, day by day, week by week knowing that although life will never be the same, I will accept a new normal.

Yesterday, some of Rich’s ashes, like they’d been released upon the waters of the Barnegat Bay, were deposited in another body of water that held a special place in his heart. 

All those Good Thoughts and Prayers for Rich’s recovery were helpful, but instead we need to accept that despite our intentions there will be events in our lives of which we have no control and we need to develop the ability and strength to understand that, to do the best with what remains, and keep hopeful for what is yet is to transpire and to live fully in the moment.

I leave you with this, something I recently read on a Memorial Post.

“The only way to understand presence is when one has to deal with absence.”  Attribution unknown 

Have a good weekend and thanks for reading.