Wednesday, September 4, 2013

I Wish I'd Never Met You ......


...... but then, I'm sure you feel the same way.
And we're all ok with that.

It's probably safe to say that none of us would ever have met one another, had we not experienced the loss of half of our heart.
Had Jim not died, I'd most likely still be writing funny stories about our family ...... not stories about learning how to survive what happened to our family.
I certainly wouldn't be telling people I care about ...... that I wish I'd never met them.

I doubt that there are many people who could hear someone say those words to them and think, "Yep.  I totally get that.  Right back at you."...... and then ask, "Now where would you like to go for dinner?" :)

At this point in my "after", I don't spend much time wishing for what cannot be.
I no longer sit for hours on end, wishing that Jim were here.
I don't use my time wishing that things had turned out differently.

Not that I don't wish all of that, but I know that wishing for it won't make it happen.  Jim cannot be brought back to life ...... no matter how hard I wish, or how many candles I blow out ...... or how many wishbones I break.
I know that I will not wake up one day, and find him taking a shower in our bathroom because I dreamed these last 5 years.

More importantly,  I know that if I sit around wishing for what will never happen ...... I will miss out on what could happen.
I'm learning that there is so much out there that could happen ...... if I'll only look.

It took me a while to get to this point.
A long while.
It's a point I never thought I'd see.
Sometimes, it was a point I had to choose.
And the ability to make that choice came with time.

The reason this thought came to me is that I spent the weekend with 3 of my widowed friends.  And although we had a wonderful time, although we each wished that our time together didn't have to end, and although we love each other ...... we all agree that we wish we'd never met.
Or more precisely, that we never had a reason to meet.

But ...... since I know that wishing won't "undo" things ...... and since I know that I won't wake up tomorrow and find Jim in the shower (which would most likely give me a heart attack anyway!) ...... I'd just like to say that whether it's been face to face, or computer to computer ...... I'm not only glad, but very, very thankful ...... that I've met you.


  1. My thoughts reading is all of us can rember how we met our mate. I met my wife by chance. We both were at a time getting through issues and ready to start life again. I knocked on her door - never met before or what we looked like- and she let me in. We were together for 35 years, and to be honest seams like yesterday. Years before we had attended the same school, I'm sure we had passed one another and maybe looked at each other not knowing a day and time we would meet again.

    Now looking back is only a memory of meeting and enjoying life together. I sit here and wonder where my life will take me and the people I'll meet for my direction to start again.
    Peace be with you..

  2. I think if I had not meet my husband, and he died. Then I would not have read this blog post. I would not have meet a group of people online who are kind wonderful people. That although I am crying they are happy tears because that is what he would have wanted.

    Thank you for a great post.

  3. Janine, like you, I did spend hours wishing for my husband to come back. I agree that if we spend too much time wishing for something that will never happen, we will miss out on the here and now.

    There have been so many times along my 3.5 year journey that I am in disbelief that I am reading and responding on a widow's blog. As much as I wish I didn't belong here, is as much as I am grateful that I found this blog and thankful for all the writers and responders.

    Thank you Janine for your words of wisdome and encouragement!

  4. Janine, I have fantasized, like you, of opening the shower door and finding my husband standing their grinning back at me. He would stand in the shower backwards with the water pouring onto his head with his arms crossed over his chest. I would open the door and we would grin at each other with such love flowing between us. I know, without a doubt, that I will never find love like that again. I know that he was the love of my life; the other half of me. Thank you God for letting me experience such shared love for 16 years. The pain of my loss after 26 months takes my breath away. My family and friends remain clueless. I, too, am so grateful to have found Widow's Village where I find validation for all that I am feeling and going through. Thank you to everyone here who understands.

    1. I understand every single word you wrote and I feel the same way at 1 year 5 months. The pain of this journey is like nothing anyone could have tried to describe or explain to me....and I'm living through it, which is the unreal part. It hurts enough that I would think I could just die of grief, but I don't, I just keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  5. Thank you so much for your wise wonderful words. I have learned so much these past 22 months that I never thought I would ever need to learn. Turning to this group for support and comfort, to just read the words that flow out of every one's grieving heart, helps me in ways that you all can relate to. Most days, I'm really ok with putting one foot in front of the other to see where the journey can lead; some dark days still linger but I embrace them too.

    Love reading your post.

  6. I read this on VW a few days ago and I found these words to be profound. I pray to have the strength to keep repeating them to myself in order to go forward without my husband. "...I do not want your legacy to be that your death permanently broke me. Your life, your love, and my love for you will sustain my survival..."

  7. I love this post. I esp appreciate your words about "wishing" for things to be different, for our husbands to return, etc etc. I spent a good portion of my first two years there; and then "something happened".....I found that I was no longer wishing, but rather saying "dead is dead" which was something my husband would say lovingly to me during the times I would be mulling about someone in our lives who had died. "Dead is dead Mary" and somehow, I pretty sure with influence from God, I started moving toward the A word.....Acceptance. When I went to my counselor and began to tell her that I thought I was moving toward.....I found I couldn't even say the word "acceptance" would I EVER accept that the love of my life, the straw that stirred my drink was not in my life anymore? How? And yet, I could feel the scar over my gaping open wound of death forming. Just as I didn't want the wound, I don't want the scar. My scar has a long way to go to closure and when it gets bumped it hurts, but I know that wishing won't make it so. Though move toward acceptance, I don't embrace it by any means yet. I still wonder what my future holds as it is a blank canvas, still, even now 30 months later.
    I encourage others who are not here it that it is a process, and one that cannot be hurried or put to anyone elses timeline. I would have never believed grief would take so long or be so deep, but mine is. The road is long, narrow and hard, but each day I find that tying my shoelaces and starting to walk is the best way for me to keep moving toward the life that I know my Martin would desire for me to have.

    1. This is so timely. I've just passed the two year mark and feel things changing a bit too. I often used the phrase "dead is dead" with teenaged and reckless sons. I always told them they needed to be more careful because I couldn't fix dead. And, I used to say it to remind my husband to enjoy our time because it would surely end. I haven't thought of it since his death. Thank you for the reminder of my own words. I'll try to be more mindful of them myself.

  8. Right back at you... and love you too!

  9. I get you. I feel the same. It's the club that no one wanted to join, but we all understand each other.

  10. Mjay and Janine,
    Your words give me solace at this time. I'm currently stuck in the "wishing" stage and feeling responsible for the death of the love of my life. I pray every day that those two irrational feelings go away. Your posts give me hope that they will. Either that or a time machine will be reality ;).