I often think about life with Mike. I want the life and love he shared with me back. A part of me will always want to slip back into that wonderful life with him. I know that this is not possible, but I do not know how to stop myself from wishing for my old life to return to me. I know that none of these desires are realistic. And, I know that I can’t live in my reverie where Mike still exists. I know all of this, so why can’t I stop myself from travelling to our past in my mind. Why can’t I stop imagining a future that will never be?
I have spent three years in limbo. I am not present in my own life. Most days, I do not actively engage in my life because I am lost in some place that exists beyond time and space. I feel sad for my children. When Mike died, they lost the Mom they had grown accustom to. I wonder if I can get my act together before they grow up. Raising them is my responsibility and I don’t take it lightly. I have to be present for my kids; but, as a widow, I have not found a way to successfully do this. Death robbed Mike from me and it unfairly took my children’s mother from them too.
I wish I could snap my fingers and neatly compose myself. I wish I could rearrange my grief so that my mind would remain focussed rather than filled with frazzled thoughts and scattered ideas. I wish this life without Mike was easier. As a widow, I wish so many things I’ve lost count. Mostly, I spend my time wishing that Mike was still alive sharing his life with me. I wish he was still here having a wonderful life with us.
Recently, I have become disheartened about the potential my future holds. This isn’t like me, I have always been an optimistic person. Since early on, I believed love would find me again and I was confident that I would rebuild my life somehow. I knew it’d be hard work. I just didn’t realize how very hard it’d actually be.
I know Mike is never coming back to life. I accept this now. I don’t like it, but I accept it.
And, with acceptance, has come more questions.
Lately, I wonder if the greatest love affair of my life is over and if my best life is gone with it.
I have no proof that this statement is true. And, likewise, I am not certain that it is false. I will admit that I sense this isn’t how things will play out; I think I will be “okay” again – somehow. But, I still wonder and worry about my future because it remains unknown. The only thing that I know for certain is that Mike is dead and he will not be part of my future. This is the only thing that I know for sure.
I became a widow at the tender age of 42. As I am moving into my fourth year of widowhood, I struggle to accept that maybe the best of my life was lived already and the rest of my life will only be tolerable at best. I am emotionally exhausted. I am tired from wondering about the future. I am tired of wishing for things to be different. I am just plain tired. Three years and 11 days is a long time to feel uncertain. It is a long time to be wondering if life will ever be wonderful again.