Friday, January 23, 2015

Year Two

There's not a lot written about moving through year two of losing your soul mate.  Some say it's harder than the first year of numbness, fog, chaos and advise to push through as year three is worth it.      
The anesthesia has worn off, pain, reality, loneliness presses in.
If you've stumbled on to this post, please forgive me as I ramble a bit; I won't be offended if you skip this one.  I'm not sure it will make a lick of sense, even to me.
I've developed this anxiety of sitting one on one with friends.  I'm afraid I'll spill a little of where I'm at in this odd journey and before I know it, the flood gates might just break. It almost happened to me yesterday over coffee.  Who wants to visit over doom and gloom, especially if it becomes one-sided?
I'm ready to use my grief experience, but I often feel like I'm another cancer family's greatest nightmare.  Her husband didn't make it. If we refuse her help, maybe we'll avoid our worst case scenario. Her story is depressing; we need positive vibes.  Our cancer story didn't have the outcome any of us want, but it's a beautiful journey of love and hope and God fills every step of it.  I get "it" and no words are often needed. I can't imagine walking though 2013 without other story bearers.  
While I wait, I intentionally walk through our five months at MD Anderson. I comb through Rob's medical records, I walk the halls of healing in the heart of the Texas Medical Center, I thank physicians and other "medical" friends who touched our lives.  I never want to forget or lose empathy for others. 
Swahili for rescue, save, redeem, deliver
The beautiful art project created by patients, families, and visitors at MD Anderson
I miss being married, being known as Rob's wife... sporting events, business dinners and parties, tex-mex dinners full of laughter...all as his wife, his best friend.  I still think, talk, feel married; singleness is so foreign to me.  Is there a home for us in limbo?  I notice I am invited to fewer marriage-centered activities. If it hints intimacy, I'm protected. Sometimes, I'm grateful...other times, sad.
 I fight new fears and feel like I'm miserably failing in trust.  What if I make irreversible financial decisions? What if my health defies me?  I keep reaching for Rob on these decisions.  When will I turn all the unknowns over to the all-knowing One?

If you made it to this point, I told you so! The ramblings of one trying to figure out this new year.


1 comment:

Donna Clarquist said...

I love your rambles; from the heart and full of joy!