I am so grateful for this Widow’s Voice. And it’s not just about having the opportunity to share, but to know that each day I can check in and “hear” another widow’s voice; that I can follow and learn about the multitude of paths, thoughts and feelings that are experienced. Even if I ever stop writing here, I know I will read it every single day, as long as it is here. I will never stop being a widow, even as my life will, and indeed has, taken different turns since Mike’s death.
I think a lot about how different the grieving process is for each individual. How many factors there are that determine our reactions and decisions since our losses. How we view the world, and our lives, through such a kaleidoscope of ever-changing colors and patterns.
How death - the finality and reality of death - will now always be intimate. This is something I’ve been thinking and writing about the past few weeks. But on the heels of that horror I’ve also been made aware of how the development of my own self has taken an unalterable fork in the road. We will never be the same again - but I am beginning to give myself permission to realize the positive side of that fact.
I have talked at length with several of my other widowed friends about how in many ways we would not be the people we are today had our husbands not died. That we find ourselves again alone in the world, again seeking and searching, and this can lead us to our own brand of greatness and fulfillment that we may not have had opportunity to find otherwise. That the person I am becoming now can still shine brightly, even despite the grief of missing him.
Sometimes these thoughts are as big and scary as the grim reaper ones. I no longer have the life partner I thought I would have in this phase of my life; I no longer have that special person to rely or lean on, or seek advice or comfort from. I must take this detour on my own.
Mike and I were really joined at the hip. Our relationship was all-encompassing and I know I did lose myself in it. And I happily allowed that to happen. He taught me more than anyone on this planet aside from my own parents. But maybe I was ready to fly out on my own; at the time of his death I could not imagine this was true or even possible. I can’t help but see what a different person is walking around out there now - one with lots of different parts: the person she was before she met Mike, the one who spent nearly 14 years by his side, the one who walked through death’s cold shadow, and the one who now finds herself the sum of it all, plus the new extra bits that are gathered in these after days. After Mike; after my marriage; just…after. My after me.
My new relationship is not a replacement for my marriage to Mike. There is no replacing anyone. But I am so grateful for it in so many ways, some of which I am only just now coming to understand. My new guy is teaching me things too. He is a very different sort of man, perhaps just the kind of man I needed right now. His fierce independence and practicality has solidified the idea that I must be my own woman now. His own brand of support and encouragement has, in a way, forced me to view my own potential from a very different perspective. The fragile fledgling I was when Mike died has been developing her wings and is now taking test flights out from the nest.
I still wobble from time to time; I still find I must occasionally come to rest on a branch and gather my bearings for the next swoop around. But I am finding I can find joy in this life still. I will miss Mike every day for the rest of my life - but I must also admit that some days, the feeling of independent flight can be awfully exhilarating. And instead of feeling guilty about that, I now focus on how deeply proud Mike would be that I’m striving to use what I’ve learned and shine it back out into the world.
Thank you, thank you, thank you Stephanie for this well thought-out post. It articulates so many feelings I have as I make my way through year #4 as a widow. I feel as though I am reverting back to the single woman I was, with the added gifts of all I gained from 22 years with my husband, and everything I have learned during the last three years of widowhood. I like your line about giving yourself permission to realize the positive aspect of who you are becoming in the aftermath of loss. I am a former kama'aina (islander) who now lives on the east coast, and reading your posts is not only helpful, but brings me back home in a way. Mahalo!
ReplyDeleteI am so glad to find this is a shared experience...it's sometimes difficult to put into words, and indeed, even talk about at all. So your comment is much appreciated...aloha to you.
DeleteYou've hit it on the head, Stephanie. Megan's presence for 12 years changed me just as dramatically as her death did. I am a different person now than what I was before meeting her, just as I am a different person that what I was just prior to her death.
ReplyDeleteI have and will always miss her until the day that I die, but, like you, I feel no guilt in being with a new woman. She is just as terrific a person as Megan was, and I know Megan had a hand in guiding me to her. She would be proud of not only the woman I am with, but in the man I have become since her death.
It's so great to see you taking those "test flights" and having the confidence to get out in the world and experience life again.
Thanks, Mike. It's so wonderful to be supported in this journey!
DeleteHi, Stephanie, though it is been only 10 1/2 months for me, some of what you shared is beginning to become a part of my truth. I met Stan late in life and we were only together for a few years, but his love opened me in ways I never could have expected. I miss him everyday and ache for him at night. But I also am aware that my life with him was all consuming, and I had little time to pursue the things that brought me joy and challenge--writing, for example, and hiking. Stan couldn't walk far so my time on the hills was limited because I wanted to spend that time with him. I chose that life with him, and I would take it all back in a minute, but , now that he is gone, and I am forced to make a new life, I can see possibilities for my future. I will probably not have another relationship. I don't feel a need for it. At least not right now! But I am beginning to have hope that I won't have to remain stuck in the dark days of grief for the rest of my life. There are other things on the horizon for me! Thanks for sharing your honest experience.
ReplyDeleteHi Tricia, what a terribly sad state of affairs that we couldn't have both. I suppose to see our lives as they are now in a positive light is both healthy and right but as you said, it's not what we might choose. I think of you often and send you many blessings on your own journey.
DeleteHi Stephanie - This post really hit home with me. I lost my husband 8 months ago so it's still very early days for me. But I came to the conclusion shortly after Gary died that my life was changed forever, I was never going to be the same again and I would never stop missing him. And there was nothing that I could do about it. I think I was really really lucky coming to that conclusion so early because I think it's huge. And despite that I believed that I would eventually have a life that I would, for the most part, enjoy; that I should enjoy and that I deserved to enjoy. That would have pleased Gary. Of course, I'm not there yet and I certainly wasn't when I first had this thought, conclusion, epiphany (whatever!) but there are things I look forward to now, times that I enjoy and I know as I learn what my new normal is, the enjoyable times and experiences will increase. Don't get me wrong, I still have my meltdowns and oftentimes they are very intense. And I welcome them because they are good for me but they don't rule my life as they once did. I know I have some tough hurtin' times still ahead of me but I also know I have good times coming as well. Like you, I am becoming a different person than I was - I think I am a nicer person now - more compassionate and understanding and less impatient. I also think I am a stronger person than I was 8 months ago - I know how to say "no" now for one thing.
ReplyDeleteAnd also like you, I look forward to checking this website every day and I almost always come away with at least one little tidbit. Your post yesterday was a whole bunch of tidbits so thank you.
Penny
Oh thank you - "new normal" it is, much as some days it is really a strange, foreign place. Appreciate the comment and blessings to you.
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