Milestones

I think I reached a milestone of sorts the other day.
Another "click" moment if you will.
Alone time has not been easy for me. The silence is very difficult but with lots of prayer, I am learning to adjust and be okay with it. Since I started working / volunteering, I've kept myself busy so I don't have to face too much alone time, but the inevitable happens on days off and I am plunged into the silence. I work in the yard and in the house as it needs. The silence looms like a heavy cloud.
I finally passed through some deep feelings and I no longer go to my bed with a heavy heart and cry, I no longer fall apart where I stand, tears don't come every day for some reason another.
What I do have are moments when I feel like I'm going to cry, busy or not. I don't have those moments every day, mainly when I am alone do they sneak up and sit behind my eyes ready to roll. I blink them back.
But I noticed this last day I was alone, I didn't have the urge to cry at all. And that was a huge thing. I realized it while I was snuggling into bed and reflecting on the day.

I debated if I wanted to share this encounter because I know we all grieve differently but it made a huge impact on me.
I met a woman one day, her face reflected that she was obviously distressed and sad. I asked if she was okay. She replied that she was having a hard time with things since her husband died and being a widow was so hard. For a moment I thought she was going to cry. I thought I was going to cry. I told her my husband had died too so I understood a little of how she was feeling. We shared a little between each other and I wished her well as she walked away. Her grief was so obvious and it hurt my heart to see. I don't remember if I prayed for her but I sure hope I did.
I encountered her again a few weeks later. Same disposition, same woe, same distress in her face and appearance. I recognized her grief. I have had that extent too. Again, I asked her if she was okay and again, she relayed the same story. I didn't remember if I asked her how long her husband had been gone the first time, I assumed recently based on her level of grief. I remember asking this time. Her answer, 8 years. 8 years! I was stunned and afraid and felt guilty.
I was stunned by the length of time she was feeling this level of grief.
I was (am) afraid that I would get stuck in my own grief and not move through it like that. I can't imagine feeling like that for such a long time. I can't imagine feeling like I do right now for such a long time and that is where...
my guilt fell into place, She was grieving that deep after 8 yrs, It's only been 8 months and I don't even feel that intense any longer.
It doesn't mean I don't love my husband, just that I know I need to move forward to have a life without him. He will never come back but will always remain a huge part of my life for the rest of my life. His death was like a physical tearing away and it hurt (s) but there is healing and I embrace that. I pray for it actually.

So I went an entire day without wanting to cry and it was like a relief. I don't expect every day to be like that but at least I know they are possible.

The next day, while working, a coworker and I were retrieving items from an outside storage area and stocking them. It was overcast with a threat of rain and a little dreary and cool. We were carrying the items on a furniture trolly into the store . After we it loaded, we got a running start with it to go up the slope toward the main building. On the way back down I had a "free spirit" moment and sat on the trolly. I tried to encourage my co worker to ride with me but she declined. Although, she did offer to give me a push, and she did. We were laughing and squealing like school girls when the trolly headed for the side of the storage building. And for a moment, after such a long time I thought, "It feels good to be alive"

Cornbread and Buttermilk

I've been staying busy, a good busy.

I feel abundantly blessed with a job that fills my desire to help others and give back.

I meet the most interesting and precious people. I meet some cantankerous ones too but they are few and far between.

I feel like I'm doing well. I'm sleeping quite well and I no longer need my antidepressant or anxiety meds.

I am glad they were available to help me cross that deep part of the river of tears.

I'm finding joy, I laugh, hard sometimes. I cherish whatever time I get with those I love. I make plans, not far off but still make them. I look forward to things. I'm learning to navigate this new life void of my husband. It isn't always easy but it's getting easier and I'm doing it.

I've had a few observations about me.

1. I'm looking at men. Hold on now, it's not what you think! I realized, I'm looking for my husband. Anything that reminds me of him, walk, talk, clothing, hair. Odd as it sounds.
2. The change in the weather makes some days more difficult. Rain, cold I find myself missing my husband more.
3. Once our children grew up, married and their family extended I decided I wouldn't put a lot of undue stress on them by insisting we have family Thanksgiving Dinner. In fact, any time I get to spend with my family is considered Thanksgiving to me yet I find myself anxious about the upcoming Holiday. I guess, even though we never did much, at least Hubby and I were together. I am looking into perhaps serving at a local church dinner or nursing home.
4. I was sharing the fact with someone that, my husband had died. Later in the conversation that person referred to me as widow. My brain exploded and it screamed “You shut your mouth!” but outwardly, I only nodded in agreement

And, I still have those caught off guard moments.

Today I talked with the sweetest older couple.

The gentleman was telling about dating his wife -then girlfriend -61 years ago. They had a difference in height so he would stand a step or 2 below her to give her a kiss goodnight after returning her to her front porch and her waiting father.

The lady beamed and added, “that was before we had air conditioner”

The gentleman continued by saying that her father was waiting at the window and if an attempt to have more than one kiss was made, the father would have a coughing fit. We all laughed really hard.

It was obvious they were still deeply in love.

She said they had been blessed with a wonderful marriage, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren as well as good health. I loved hearing their story. He chirped in and said, “You know what keeps me healthy? Cornbread and buttermilk”

That's when I felt it, tears were welling and there was no stopping it. I had to excuse myself and go to another room for a little while to compose myself.

You see, my husband loved cornbread and buttermilk.

It's always the little things.