A year ago yesterday, I initiated myself into the blogging world with this. What a blessing that was. I never would have known of the widowhood community that has helped me survive the past year. The community that has offered so much support, though I feel like I've neglected them being so consumed with my own grief. I promise I'll give back.
I was laying in bed last night, listening to Jacob cough, trying to figure out why I'm so stuck and wondering how to move forward. Attempting to think objectively, I realize that first of all, I know that everyone does this grieving thing at their own pace. It can be two steps forward, one step back, or one step forward and three steps back. Everyone is different and every situation is different. I'm one of those people that doesn't have enough patience with myself. Rationally, I know it's gonna take time, but I'm tired of hurting, tired of grieving. Tired of all these negative emotions. I'm just plain tired.
I realize I'm probably stuck because I haven't reached the point of "acceptance." I'm still pissed for Matt because he was at the best time in his life when his life ended. He finally finished school, just got his dream job, was finally fulfilling his goals which also included enjoying his wife and two young children. He was young, healthy, and so deserved everything he worked so hard for, and he was only able to enjoy the fruits of his labor for such a short time. It's so unfair.
I'm brokenhearted for my children, because they won't get to know their amazing, involved, loving, strong, fun, patient father the way they should have. He had knowledge and skills he needed to pass on to them.
I'm sad for myself that I didn't have him longer. We were so in love. I was so fulfilled with him in my life. I loved knowing that my children would have the one thing I didn't have growing up - a mommy and daddy team. A good, healthy example of what it's like to grow up with married parents who enjoy being in each other's company, and who like parenting the kids they're raising and appreciate the life they're living. A husband who did more than his share of the work around the home. I had it pretty easy.
So often I try to put myself in his shoes... what was he thinking during his last moments? What have been his thoughts and feelings since? Is he angry, sad, disappointed, at peace? Knowing Matt, he was probably pretty pissed at first, and sad, but he's so level headed and even tempered that I know he made peace with his fate. If I could ask him how he could be OK with this, he'd probably say he didn't have a choice, so it's either be at peace with it, or in a constant state of anger and denial. Who wants to live eternity with that? With death comes wisdom. (I don't know where I came up with that - it just popped in my head and I had to write it down.)
I suppose if he can come to terms with it, I should try to, too. I don't want to live what life I have left in a constant state of sadness and despair, wishing I could turn the clock back. I know full well that is not in my power, and it's fruitless to even think about that. A waste of energy and emotions, though there are moments when I just can't help myself. There are times when I can barely function, and then there are times when I think I can totally do this. By some miracle, I've gotten this far; I can make it the rest of the way.
I actually think that one of the things possibly holding me back is guilt. Is it OK for me to get to the point where I can accept what has been dealt to us, and maybe even be happy again? (That's a rhetorical question...) Logically, I know it is OK - I would want that for anyone else going through this shit. But it's different when it comes to wanting that for yourself. At least for me, it's almost like I can't let myself past this hump yet because maybe I should feel like shit longer than this after losing the love of my life.
One of the things Matt and I had talked about was who would die first. After some discussion (and me crying at the mere thought of it), he came to the conclusion that I should die first because I couldn't handle it if he died first and left me behind. I was totally in agreement with that decision! The thing I wasn't in agreement with was when he told me that if I died first, he would marry again. My response was, "WHAT? Hmph!" It's strange the things that we discussed for being a young, healthy couple, but I'm sure glad we did.
So, today is the first day of the rest of my life. 36 should be interesting...