I am widow hear me roar!!!!
Two years ago this past week (12/11) I became a
widow. Oh, the things I have learned and continue to learn on this journey. I
have learned that the first year was a bit of a fog and all the grief was
expected so I embraced it. The second year I became a bit confused as to how to
grieve. Wasn’t I supposed to be feeling better? Didn’t the fog lift? I got lost
the second year in many things. As I enter my third year, things are becoming
clearer to me. I know who I am and what I want. I know where I am going as I
move forward another year without Steven.
I also know what I have always known -- that each day is a gift not to
be squandered. I have two beautiful children – my two greatest and treasured
gifts. They reflect the love that Steven and I shared.
The dictionary
defines the word Widow as “A woman
whose spouse has died and who has not remarried”.
Pretty simple and to the point. There are some who grimace at
the label “widow”, some who are uncomfortable being called a widow or referring to someone else as a
widow. When asked if I am married and I respond with “I am a widow”, people are
shocked and sometimes uncomfortable. Yes, I am a woman whose spouse has died
and has not remarried. I am a widow, but
that word does not in and of itself define who I am or any of the other widows
(and widowers) living our lives without the one person with whom we vowed to
spend our lives – in sickness and in
health, for better or for worse, til death us do part (who knew I would
actually be tested to live out those vows so early). Me? I wear my label proudly, as a badge of
honor if you will. I cared for my husband for 22 months as he fought valiantly
every day to slay the beast that had permeated his brain. There is no greater
honor than to care for someone you love so deeply. Words can never truly convey
the depth of that love. Widow….add an N in there and you get window. We can see many things through a window
but sometimes it depends on the
direction in which you are looking – are you looking in or looking out. Looking
inside the window of someone else’s home doesn’t really tell you anything about
their lives…you may see a family dining together, watching television or you may see one person perched
on a chair reading a book. We can make up many stories about those people. I
wonder what stories they may conjure up about me while gazing into my window. A
seemingly happy woman, taking care of her children, sipping on a cup of tea
while working on the crossword puzzle. What they cannot see is the window to my
soul or heart. The heart and soul of a widow. I am widow hear me roar –
sometimes that roar is as quiet as a kitten mewing while at other times that
roar is primal and can sound like the lion in the jungle. I roar because I am
proud of all I have accomplished over these last two years, I roar because I am
bereft to be living without the love of my life, I roar because I was blessed
for nearly 20 years to be loved so deeply and so unconditionally by the bravest
man I have ever known and I roar because I know from the depths of my soul that
I am going to be okay – that I am okay! What I see as I gaze out my own window
are people who care about my family. I see outstretched arms ready to hug me
whether in comfort or gratitude. As I peer inside the window of my life, I see
beautiful memories already made and new memories being created. My window brings a smile to my face and warms my heart.
I love my window – looking inside at my soul and outside at my world.
