Whether you’re reading this as a recent widow, as one who has been faced with the challenges for years or maybe you’re just curious, my goal would be to help you or someone you know enjoy the path you’re on. If I’m being transparent, this third blog took me a little longer to sit down and write. It could be because I’m not as focused on myself as I should be and it was somewhat convicting to write about something that I wasn’t doing.
I’m absolutely convinced by the concept that you can’t pour into others if you’re tired both mentally and physically. But maybe that’s the point. Perhaps it’s not a time when we should be thinking about helping others as much as we should be focused on how we’re doing; our own healing and the reality of the road ahead - the new journey that we’re on. It wasn’t until this past weekend that I began to put my own life into perspective. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with my loving family and making memories but I am beginning to realize that I have a new life. I can’t expect things to be the way they were when my husband was alive. There were two of us during that life and I wasn’t the one having to make the major decisions. Decisions about the house, about cars, about travel plans - he did it all. We trusted each other and it all worked out smoothly. But now it’s just me and yes, sometimes I don’t make the best decisions. I act before I think things all the way through and I become impatient. It’s been almost two years and every passing day I think of my husband and miss him dearly, but I’m coming to understand within myself that life moving forward is just going to be different. While I’m not afraid of change, this was nothing I was prepared for.
I think one of my biggest challenges are the voices in my head telling me this and that. I’m not afraid but sometimes I allow the quiet of the day to become overwhelming, if I’m being honest. I’m now doing the job of both of us and he was a hard worker - always doing something. So to think that I’ll be able to fill his shoes can be a bit much. But that’s another realization. That too, will be different. Our yard may not look exactly like he had it, but it’s what I can manage (with the help of a gardener). I know he would be pleasantly surprised by most of what I’ve done thus far. I sold many of the things he had because I didn’t need them anymore and that’s ok. My new life might need to be a little simpler and maybe a little more like I would have it – somewhat girly, but that’s by choice. I’ve made the decision to not be consumed in self-pity or allow fear to creep into my days. That’s just not who I am, that’s not what he would want, and it doesn’t have to be who you become either.
So what does this new life look like? How am I supposed to act and feel? To some it may seem freeing to not be faced with having to ask for permission or discuss what the other one wants to do. Sometimes yes, but most of the time… no. It often feels like you’re half of the person you used to be. When you go places you used to go – with or without friends – you don’t feel complete. It can be lonely so sometimes you just don’t go. That’s the worst thing you could do. Isolation is not your friend. It can lead to depression and that’s a deep pit you may find yourself in. It doesn’t have to be that way. It’s now up to us to make things enjoyable. To create new memories for ourselves and others around us. But I think most importantly to realize that alone, we are enough. It just might be something we haven’t experienced recently or maybe ever at all. I started dating my husband at the age of 18, so to say these are uncharted waters would be an understatement; but not impossible. It’s up to me to make this next chapter of my life what we would want if the tables were turned. If we had been the one to die, how would we have wanted our partner to carry on. (After significant grieving and realizing just how good they had it, of course). Just a little humor… but life goes on.
Something I’m realizing is that the second year feels almost worse than the first because that first year you’re doing your best to get through birthdays, holidays, special events that you celebrated as a family; but the second year you’re realizing that this is the way things will be now. For me, and maybe for you too, you’re trying to keep traditions in place that were cherished - at least by you. But this is nothing you expected to be faced with. It’s ok. New traditions will be made and you’ll continue to honor your loved one with new smiles and laughter. But one thing’s for sure in all of this change – you now have to take care of yourself. You will need to focus on your health and mental well-being.
I, perhaps like you, miss the little things as much as I do the big things. I miss having that special someone who knew me – he knew all about me – the good and the… well let’s just say I’m not perfect, but he loved me as if I was. We shared so many good times together and maybe that’s what you’re also missing. Let me remind you of how fortunate we are to have those memories. So many widows don’t have good memories and may be suffering with painful ones instead. For that I would offer comfort and remind you that guilt is a robber of abundant life. Life’s journey allowed me to be with a man for 46 years and I will be forever grateful. But it’s been 638 days since that fateful day and for me it’s time for me to ‘pull myself up by my boot straps’ as they say and figure this thing out.
So here’s what I’ve learned in those days…
I’ve worked very hard to not be angry with God that he’s gone but instead to be appreciative that we found each other and built our lives together.
I’ve learned that I can do more than I expected if I’ll just read the instructions and focus without distractions.
I know wholeheartedly that you have to take care of your health and mental well-being.
I’ve realized that what matters most in life are the times you spend with others making memories, remembering to take photos - even if people don’t want you to. Because when they’re gone, that’s what will preserve those times spent together.
Keeping your cup full isn’t easy, but it’s a necessity. As I come up on the two year anniversary, could it be that I’m still waiting for him to come through the door and rescue me from this new life that I didn’t sign up for? Or will I make the decision to live my new life – one day at a time. The choice is ours to make. I refuse to allow sadness or grief to define who I am or what I’ll focus on, and I encourage you to do the same.
How will you fill your days? For me, I love my job. The flexibility allows me to work when I want to, earn the money that I want in order to do fun things with family. And now that I’m making that decision to create my new life (right before your eyes), I will start planning to do things by myself and for myself. I love giving back and lifting others up. That’s something that I’ll never grow tired of doing, but it’s not always of my time that I give. I’ve watched people get so busy doing that they don’t have time for themselves. I don’t want that but I do care about people - lots of people - so I find ways to make a difference. I feel good about it and I think it’s a healthy way to live. I can’t impose my ways on others, however. I remember when my Dad died I thought that it would be nice for my Mom to volunteer at the library reading to children. Turns out, I don’t think my Mom even liked children… so that wasn’t such a good idea. But it’s important that now, more than ever, when you find yourself with time on your hands that you make a difference in the lives of others. You may find that doing so will bring you joy.
I’m slowly allowing myself to see life without him, knowing that he would want me to find myself and move forward. Even though I have walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for God is with me. That verse reminds me that the valley isn’t removed, but I know who is by my side through it all. Grieving comes with so many questions of who you really are without them. My peace comes from knowing that one day we will be together again but realizing that while I’m still here, I will cherish that bond that we had as I continue to live my life.
I don’t want this to sound like I’m not grateful for my family and friends because I am – 100%. But if history repeats itself, my Mom lived to be 96 years old so God willing, as she used to say, I’ve got some years ahead of me. I need to figure this out. By year two maybe people think that I’ve got it all figured out – maybe I make it look as though I do – but again, it’s sometimes perception not reality. I know that I’m blessed and I was put on this earth to be a blessing. Focusing on what really matters. I don’t sweat the small stuff and continue to realize that most of what I’m concerned about is small stuff.
AND, most importantly, don’t forget to fill your cup.
Why didn't I write that down?
We all grieve differently
Writing the story of your new life
The little things are now the big things
Changes you'll make that others don't understand
When goodbye really is goodbye
No regrets, only gratitude
Losing track of time and everything else
Managing added responsibilities
Things people say or don't say
What you should and shouldn't do... a widow's timeline
My biggest fears and I've overcome them
Goodbye for now.
I hope to see you again.
~Carol
