Widow's Voice

I Want To Share This With Him

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http://widowsvoice.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/12716331_10153270462412026_6786561720424444820_o.jpgIt’s been two-and-a-half years in and the grief can still sneak up and surprise me in ways that I’m not expecting…

I recently decided to go back to university and do some further Post Graduate study in my career of public relations. I took a step back when Dan died unexpectedly from depression but a few months ago I started feeling ready to push myself out of my comfort zone at work.
I decided study would help sharpen my mind again while also boosting my confidence and make me feel like a more competitive candidate for higher level roles.

It’s a decision that I’m excited about but also makes me very nervous. Do I have it in me? Can my widow brain cope with the challenge of learning and retaining new information in an academic environment? Will the time commitment probe to be exhausting and overwhelming? I don’t know, but I feel ready to give it a go. 

I’m also planning on using my sharpened skills on a project I’m working on to help the widowed community here in Australia, so I feel passionate about what I’m doing.

This week I visited the campus, which is conveniently located a few blocks from my work (I’ll be studying part time while continuing to work) to collect my student ID card.  

As I walked out of the student office with my freshly minted identification in my hot little hands, I felt a surge of pride in myself for having the courage to give this a go.  My thoughts then immediately went to Dan and I had the strongest urge to call him and tell him what I’m doing.

I wanted to hear the excitement and enthusiasm in his beautiful voice.  I wanted his support, to know he believed in me.  I wanted a hug.  I wanted to celebrate with him.  And more than anything, I wanted to hear him say he was proud of me.  Proud of the woman I’ve become.  Proud of everything I’ve achieved.  The grand things, like the huge hurdles I’ve jumped since his death, and the small things, like getting out of bed on the days my heart ached so much it hurt to breathe.  

Standing in the middle of my new campus the tears started flowing and I missed him so much, my whole body surged with the wave of it.  

I didn’t expect to miss him in that moment.  It makes sense that I did, but I wasn’t prepared for it.  It make me start to think about all the other things I want to tell him, all the conversations I’m missing out on and the hole in the place where he should be.  

It sucks.  It’s not fair.  

Two-and-a-half years and sometimes the loneliness of doing ‘life’ on my own, without him, can cripple me without warning.