Being a widow is . . .

Going through some older journal pages, and I found this.

I wrote it at about 5 years in - I'm now at 9 years, it's still too true.

This isn't a wallowing in the grief . . . it is the reality of life.

Society says it's ok to grieve our parents, siblings, children, long after they died.

Even for years, and the rest of our lives.

But when it comes to grieving our spouses – society says a year and then it’s time to “get over it” & “move on”.

And yet, sharing life with a spouse is the most intimate relationship – more so than any other relationship.

It is where 2 hearts, 2 souls, 2 lives, are melded into ONE.

No matter how long they are together.

Even when it’s not a “perfect” relationship.

Being a widow:

Is more than missing your spouse's presence.

It is adjusting to a totally new life, an alternate life.

It is growing around a permanent amputation, one where there is no prosthetic.

It is going to bed night after night, months upon years, and the loneliness still doesn't feel normal.

It is crying yourself to sleep, just aching to be held.

It is seeing a bed now as a vivid reminder of silence, emptiness, loss of connection.

It is not feeling at home, no matter where you are or who you are with.

Because your person is missing.

Because who you were with that person is missing too.

It is knowing all your hopes and dreams that you shared as a couple are now crumbled into a pile of ashes.

It is searching for new dreams that are yours alone.

It is in having small victories that include a new shade of grief, because you can't share it with the one who propelled you onto this path.

It is second guessing everything you thought you knew about yourself.

It is finding you are no longer the same person, and when others tell you this - you can't explain it, because you don't understand it.

It is learning what you like, instead of what we like.

It is deciding what you want to watch, instead of what we enjoy watching.

It is feeling excitement over this new person you are becoming, and yet knowing heartbreak because you know the only reason you are this new person.

It is being a stranger in your own life.

It is unnerving to watch yourself go through the motions of what was your life, and yet feeling detached and not a part of it.

It is having your previous life feel like a vapor mist that is gone, and it leaves you wondering if it happened at all.

It is the irony of knowing that if just that one person were here to hold you and support you, you could make it through the grieving.

And that thought leaves you twisted and confused.

It is missing the one person who was your memory keeper, the one who laughed at your stupid jokes, the one who got your irrational fears.

To anyone else?

You have to explain, and they still don't understand - so you keep it all to yourself, and that makes the loneliness grow by leaps and bounds.

It is struggling with your own identity.

This person you were with your spouse - you aren't that one anymore.

So who am I?

If I am not going to do the things we planned, what do I do?

What is my purpose, if the joy of investing into my marriage is taken away?

Who is my closest companion when my other half isn't here?

It is a restless feeling - because I have lost my home (home is not a house, it is a life, a person), my identity, my partner, my lover, my best friend, my travel companion, my security, my LIFE.

And because I am drifting away with an unknown destination.

It is living in a constant state of missing the most intimate relationship - with no hand to hold, no body next to you, no partner to share the good or the bad - or simply the indifferent with.

It is feeling sad when you are happy and laughing.

It is the guilt while you are living - because he is not.

It is looking back while moving forward.

It is being hungry, but nothing sounds good.

Exhaustion takes away joy of cooking.

It is leaving the dishes, at least until the next meal.

So you don’t wash just one fork, one knife, one plate, one glass.

It is every event turning bittersweet.

So yes, being a widow is more - so much more - than simply missing their presence.

It is becoming this new person, with a new life- you want to, but you don't want it.

The price was too high.

Being a widow is fighting every emotion a person can feel - all at the very same moment and trying to function in this life - while fighting.

Being a widow is nerve wracking.

Being a widow is vulnerability.

Being a widow is strength.

Being a widow is darkness and light all mixed up together.

Being a widow is LIFE changing.