W I D O W
Add an E R for the guys
W I D O W E R S
Both words mean the same thing.
Someone we loved died.
Someone we still love, died.
Gone, gone, gone
And it’s up to us, those left behind, to create new lives for ourselves.
It’s a powerful word, an ugly word to most of us.
If not all of us
It carries within its’ letters all the pain and loneliness and missing-ness of years,
Sometimes lifetimes spent together
In the immediate time after Chuck died
I hated and despised the word.
The feelings it engendered were the total and complete opposite
Of what I had been.
Wife. I loved that word, I loved that title.
Those 4 letters carried so much joy and contentment in them.
Now my joy is a 5 letter word
I had to learn to live with those 5 letters.
I realized that in order to be a W I D O W,
I had to first be a wife.
His wife. Now, his W I D O W.
What made it a bit more bearable for me was to learn from another military wife that I was another category of W I D O W.
I was…I am…
The proud military widow of Chuck D.
And even though it isn’t really alright at all,
And it never ever will be.
I can say, at least, that I am that.
And it brings to mind the imagery of a part of Chuck that was the strongest part of him.
It brings to mind seeing him in uniform for the first time.
It reminds me of the honorable man he was who stood in service to his country for a span of decades.
It reminds me of his decency, his work ethic, and his perfectly rendered salute.
In this world of mine that is so painful it makes me pause and think that
Even though I would rather, much rather, be his beloved wife
I am, and always will be, his proud military widow
And when I think of it that way it controls, to some extent, the sick feeling that rises in me as I live these days and years without him
Hey, it’s the little things that get us through, right?
