I had a dream that I found Jeff. I was so totally overjoyed and so excited that I attempted to jump into his arms. The shock and confusion, even hostility, that he looked at me with was horrifying. He didn't recognize me. He didn't know me anymore.
He scooped up our little ones in a tight embrace and laughed at how they've grown and who they are. They snuggled into his chest and glowed.
He ignored me. He didn't know who I was. I was a stranger. I was outside his embrace. I was no longer 'his'.
Losing Jeff has changed me. I am stronger, braver and more capable....I think. But without him to act as my mirror, I can no longer see myself through the eyes of someone so close who loves me so dearly. Part of the reason we love our spouse is who they see and believe us to be. Without that rose-tinted reflection, I often don't know who 'I' am.
I see myself as horribly blemished. Terribly scarred. A monster at times. Wiser but angrier. More able but less patient because I have SO much more to do. More capable of standing up for myself but louder because of the necessity to be heard.
I know that he would laugh at these neurotic thoughts that plague me. The thoughts that I am unsuited to be a mother, a sister, a friend. I can feel without a shadow of doubt that he would roughly snuggle me close, kiss the top of my head and tell me that I was the 'sweetest, most loving person he has known'.
But with only a memory of these statements and the knowledge of my metamorphosis into 'widow' and all that entails, I wonder if his kind description would still stand.
Would he know me? Would he love me? Would he still want me?
I often wonder what Eddie would think of my "now". How strong I have become, yet feel so weak at times. Like when I type this and a tear falls down my cheek. Why is it so automatic? It's been two and a half years...and the tears can still be so automatic.
ReplyDeleteMy husband died on April 26, 2005. Almost 5 years ago, I am still hurting, but now is a different hurt. Now, I am bitter, I am angry all the time, I have no patience, and is sad because I don't want to be like this. I don't want my children to remember me like this, I want them to remember who I was before my husband died. But is just like you said, there is still a lot of self critisism, a lot of doubt about my rol as a single parent, and is so stupid, because deep inside us, we know we are better parents that many out-there that have not gone through these horrible experiences.
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