One thing I read late last year was people doing a 'word' for the year, not New Years Resolutions, which seemed a far more sensible way to go than dragging out the perennial resolution that never gets stuck to.
The word that stuck out to me at the beginning of the year was Faith.
Not religious faith, but ...
Faith in my ability to solo parent John without screwing him up too much.
Faith that I'll work through Ian's death and learn to live with it humming quietly in the background, rather than shoving it aside or down and ignoring it, especially when it gets too loud.
Faith that I've made the right decision to re-train rather than try and work through.
Faith that I'll settle into the rhythm of my life as it is now, and maybe learn to thrive.
Faith that it's ok to slow down occasionally and just let things be.
I think I've managed to get to a point of self-belief and acceptance over this year, no small thanks to my counsellor. Accessing the right counselling with the right counsellor for me was one of the best decisions of the year.
There have been moments where widowhood and solo parenthood has seriously bitten.
Having John diagnosed with an illness that could have impacted his heart, the same organ who's issues caused the death of his father, was a significant low light. Especially when it occurred when my key support network were travelling and unable to help with hospital runs, cat feeding, random meals and snacks. But I learned to ask for help from my broader network during this period, rather than lumping it all on a small number of key people.
Being incapacitated with a badly sprained ankle and having a small person who kept running off with the crutches.
Nearly burning the house down in a massive case of widow brain.
I'm heading into 2015 ready for what the year brings, the ups, the downs. A new word, whatever that turns out to be.
All with the hum of Ian's absence in the background.
I wish you all a peaceful, gentle ticking over of the calendar tomorrow night, and all that it marks and means in widowhood.