Last week, I was digging for motivation. Unfortunately, I have not been finding myself very motivated. I am still feeling down and as I went to do our family calendar for the month of March, realized that the end of March marks the first anniversary of my dad’s death. Then, only one short month later, will be the sixth anniversary of my husband’s death.
Yes, the sixth.
No wonder I’m in the dumps. Some days, I can almost forget, but my heart, my soul, my being remembers.
For most of this week I’ve been thinking about happiness and what that looks like in my widow world. Happiness certainly isn’t the same in this world as it was in the world I used to live. As I dig for hope, I have to wonder how this hope and happiness is measured now. I wonder will I ever really be happy again? I just am not happy, that truly carefree happy, that I had experienced in the past. I can’t get there anymore. My kids aren’t happy…and I can’t tell if it’s just normal or if it’s something I need to be concerned about now. Is it just one of those weeks…
Is it just one of those lifetimes?
I remember happy. I remember laughing until my stomach hurt. I remember joy. I feel hope, but some days are just so sad for me still. Some days there is just nothing to look forward to…not the big things…like vacations and such…I miss looking forward to coming home to Dave at the end of the day…I miss the real end of the day when we crawled into the same bed, I miss the kiss goodbye in the morning and the phone calls during the day…all these things brought me happiness. All these things I looked forward to each day…how can I find hope again when all those moments are gone…never to happen again with him. How can I keep digging when I know the only treasure I really truly want can never be had again?
I know many of you who will read this will understand my deep, deep heartache. I know many of you struggle in the same way that I do everyday. This solidarity is one of my few sources of hope. This solidarity, this kinship we share in our losses and the kindness and depth of sharing we participate in is one way that excavate hope in my life. I don’t like being a part of this club and I’m very sad you are here too, but, I am sure glad you are here with me…because I couldn’t make it alone. I look forward to writing for you. I look forward to reading about you. I look forward to our healing. I guess that’s where some of the hope comes.
As hard as it is to live this life of widow everyday, this solidarity we share gives me courage to keep on going and has really let me know that I am not alone. All of you keep moving and show me that I can too. In my early days of loss, I really thought no one understood what I was going through each moment.
Now I can’t believe how arrogant a thought that was…every day so many struggle with great loss and continue to contribute to the greatness of humanity.
Today as I continue to search for things to look forward to and to hope for…I am grateful that I have found all of you. Thank you for your stories. Thank you for your willingness to share your pain, your sadness, your raw truth.
All of this is a great treasure. I hope it helps us all heal and continue to love through our terribly wounded hearts.