This will be my last blog post.
Michele will pick up Mondays until she can find a replacement for me.
I'm not sure exactly how I know I'm done writing here. Your comments and the knowledge that I'm connecting with others is still healing for me.
Even though it is more challenging now, I can still think of things to write about. So, struggling for topics is only a tiny part of it. I still feel grief and pain and I still miss Dave. He's never far from my mind. I'm still traumatized and suffer from depression.
It is harder to come up with ideas because I'm not constantly immersed in the grief anymore, but not impossible.
I think the other part of it might be that I'm finally not feeling okay with the label "widow". It doesn't feel like me anymore. I'm tiring of the label itself and what it means. It's not as good a description of me anymore. And I find that while being widowed affects me still and will always be a part of my psyche, it's no longer my first story to tell. There's so much more to talk and think about.
I dug through some of my old posts and remembered those earlier days (not that long ago!). My entire world was widowhood. Anything not directly related to being widowed felt like a strange intrusion. Who gave a shit about world events, or politics, or decor or art or anything?! I breathed widowhood. It was all I knew. I was a widow.
Now, there's much more that takes up my brain space. It's no longer my main focus. I never for one second forget what I lost. It's with me every second of every day, but it's receded enough so that my identity isn't completely wrapped up in it.
I can still bring up images and sensory memories from that time that nearly take my breath away. The pain was unthinkable. I'm not unaffected. It's just become something I've gotten much more comfortable carrying around, so that other things can finally take the forefront.
So, I figured, as a writer for you, someone who is serving you, I'd better be really devoted to my job. I'm here to support you and I want your support to be solid.
I'm not that solid of a support anymore. I've shifted my attention away from this world in my day to day life, and shifting back has become a way that might keep me stuck.
I want you to have a writer who doesn't have to force herself to fit back into the spot I slid so easily into at one time.
And selfishly, I want to be free from the label for a while. Or maybe forever. I was widowed, yes, and I'll never try to pretend it didn't happen. But I no longer feel like a widow. I just feel like me. Sad, happy, scared, excited, traumatized, strong, resilient me. I have a dead husband and a living fiance. I'm just Cassie, not widow Cassie.
I have cherished every single comment and word of encouragement from you. They've kept me going and urged me on. They've made me feel connected. Posting is vulnerable and you've made me feel safe to be vulnerable every single time. That's rare and so special. What an incredible group of people to be real with.
I can't thank all of you enough for reading my words, whether you commented or not. I think of all of you and send you love and light.
Your journey will be long and bumpy. Hold onto the hands of those who are on the journey with you. Hold on tight. You'll make it. And I'm betting there will be times when I'll be coming back here to hold onto yours along the way, too.
Love to you all.