My Journey to Widowhood

The Middle

I have read that grief comes in three stages. The beginning, the middle, and the rest of your life. I believe this to be true. The beginning was hard. I faked a smile and cried in private. I maintained and put up a front of being strong. I realized quickly after that first year that it is ok to not be ok. I no longer hide my emotions after this realization. The middle, which is where I think I am now, is hard, so hard. I am settling into my new life and taking grief day by day. If I wake up happy, great. I smile and enjoy the day. If I wake up sad, I own it. I let the tears flow as they come and take extra care of myself by being gentle. By being gentle I mean I lay around and read, watch tv, and take bubble baths. I don't force myself to engage in conversation or to go out and be social. I enjoy the quiet of my home until I feel I can interact with people again.

 The next part is the rest of my life. I will always grieve my husband in some form. I will grieve the life we did not get to spend together, the milestones in our sons life that he is not here for, the birthdays, anniversaries and holidays that he misses- the life that I wish he had chosen. 

I have been proud of the things that I have learned over the past two and a half years. I bought a car on my own, I can plug flat tires, I learned to tie down a four-wheeler and dirt bike on a trailer and pull it with his truck, and I can also work on them to an extent. I can go out to eat by myself and enjoy my own company. I can drive in big cities (Michael always did the driving when we took trips). I can take my son on weekend getaways. I can maintain our home and yard by myself. I can make big decisions on my own. I have also learned that I am strong enough to endure much more than I thought I could emotionally. 

I have realized how much I enjoy my alone time. The time to think and process, to just sit in silence as the world turns around me, and on occasion, time to take myself on a "date". I value doing things on my own timeline. Taking my time getting dressed. Going to the restaurant of my choice for a nice dinner. Singing along to the music in the car. Stopping wherever I want along the way. 

For so long I was focused on making those around me happy, never considering my own happiness, but I have found myself again. I know my likes, my wants, and my needs. I realized that one of my non-negotiables when dating is that I have to have someone who speaks life into me. I need the positivity, the positive affirmations, and a positive environment to thrive. I need someone who is going to give me these things just as I supply them to those I love. Positivity is a big part of my world these days. Some mornings I have to look myself in the mirror and give a little pep talk to remind myself of the type of person that I am. I am kind. I am generous. I am strong. I am fearless. I am brave. I am loved. 

Michael and I finally had those much needed conversations about what he wanted for Logan and I once he passed. One thing that he was adamant about was Logan finishing high school in our hometown. As I mentioned before, he changed schools often as a kid. He wanted Logan to have what I had growing up. Classmates that I met in kindergarten and graduated from the twelfth grade with. I have every intention of keeping that promise that I made, however lately, Logan has been asking to move to Arkansas. We passed through a town a couple of months ago that he fell in love with. He Googled the school system, looked up houses for sale on the internet, and plans our move. I do not plan on going anywhere anytime soon, but I can't lie, the thought of having a fresh start is enticing. I imagine us living in a new home without memories attached to it. Driving down streets that we didn't drive down as a family of three. New stores and scenery to explore. New friends to make. New opportunities for each of us.

I imagine a life filled with happiness, but I know that no matter where I go, I will always be the widow of one incredibly brave and stubborn man. He had his reasons for making the choice that he made, and although I cannot fathom why he made the decision to not receive a new heart, I respect it. I pray that I would make a different choice if I were faced with the same decision that he had to make. One where I chose to live for my spouse and child, to enjoy life, and to be around for all of the stages that life has to offer. I still struggle emotionally with the result of his choice, but I am working on that. I loved him until the end of his life, and I will continue to love him until the end of mine. He will always live in my memory as well as in my heart. I will continue to keep his memory alive through sharing his story and mine. 

On occasion I turn on some of the songs that he liked to play, close my eyes and pretend that he is in the next room playing guitar. A few of his favorites were What If I Was Nothing by All That Remains, Simple Man by Shinedown, and Walk by Pantera. It makes me feel close to him when I listen to his music so, sometimes, I do just that. Logan listened to Michael's type of music until he passed away, and now he can't. I only listen to it when he isn't home. He completely changed to a different genre of music following his dad's passing. I have asked several times if he would like to take guitar lessons or go to a heavy metal concert and he says, "Maybe someday". I can't imagine losing a parent at such a young impressionable age and I do not pressure or force him to do these things. I do hope that he chooses to take lessons though. I know that it would make his dad so proud. Sometimes I sit in my bedroom on the floor, strumming his guitars and imagine that he can see me sitting there with one of his prized possessions in my hands. The very thing that I used to complain about is one of the things that I miss the most. The sound of those screaming guitars. What I wouldn't give to hear him play one more time. 

He had told me from the time we met that he was going to die young. When I would speak of us growing old together, he would say, "That is what I want. I'm not going to have a long life though, babe." I would tell him to stop saying things like that, but now I wonder if it was truly something that he felt. Some sort of intuition that he had. I wanted to be sitting on our front porch with him at 80 years old talking about the weather. I wanted to take a trip to Maine to see where he grew up. I wanted to spend our lives loving each other and watching Logan have his own family. I had so many dreams and plans for our life together that were crushed the day that "we" became "me".  

I still find myself dreaming of my future, only now, he isn't in those visions. It's me sitting on the porch alone, drinking my coffee. But I am smiling. I know that no matter what happens in my life, I will always come through the other side with a smile on my face. When things happen, it may take time to get my smile back, but I will. I have no doubt that I will though. I am an overcomer, and I choose to see the bright side.