I was thinking about why I stopped posting this fall. I know I wrote about 3 posts for every one I published. Too much angst and negativity. Not that 2020 has been easy - but it hasn't been easy for any of us. I guess it just felt like piling on.
Anyway. It is now a year and 1 week since my husband died. His birthday was yesterday. I felt a little pressure to commemorate his birthday but coming on the heels of the death date it seemed too much focus on what is past and can't be changed and he wasn't into his birthday anyway.
I know I sent out some cards last year, and responded to some of the condolence cards I got but when I sat down to write out my holiday cards I realized I couldn't remember what I said and to whom. I reflected back on a few things during that first few months and realize I am quite fuzzy about them - at the time I felt very in control and rational.
There was so much that had to be done and decided and so any difficult revelations
after his death that I immersed myself in carrying on. It really wasn't until this summer that things began to settle, tax issues were adjudicated, credit issues determined, etc. Then I did a bit of traveling to see my aged parents and ailing sister and then I got a puppy. So still making myself busy and distracted.
It really has been a year of distractions - I kept trying to get out and do things and Covid restrictions kept shutting them down. I had to deal with a couple of minor medical issues - made not so easy by the current situation. It was wound up by the election, RBG's death, all the political shenanigans. And now that much of the dust has settled and we are once again staying home and keeping distances and holiday shopping and mailing is done and the weather has turned frigid - well, grief has been smacking me around quite a bit.
I have allowed myself to accept it, to let it move me. When I began to cry while walking the dog (there was an older man riding his bike down the street) I just let it happen. Watching TV shows where older couples are choosing a vacation or retirement home - tears for what I won't experience. When the couple bicker over stuff when house hunting - I get mad. When the widow in the movie has a home for her family to gather and trim the tree - I feel sorry for myself for not having that. I kept thinking of things I am not going to be buying for him for the holidays - our little traditions gone for good.
So it took a year, a lot of distractions and avoidance, but now I feel more. I wondered if it would happen and it has and it's okay. I'm not depressed, I am simply in a place where I can feel and acknowledge all that has been lost to me and our kids and continue to carry on without fear of being broken. Sad for what has been lost but making a new life day by day.
