And Life Just Keeps Changing

It’s been nearly two months since my last post–a good deal has happened in that time including the coming and going of the third anniversary of L’s death.  I spent that day here in Wisconsin doing much of what I have done on the other anniversaries–driving around and past all the places we lived, taking a long walk along the lakefront, looking through pictures and most of all playing back the awesome audio tapes he left for me so that once again his voice filled my world.

Once again I have turned my living situation on its ear–in Florida I found that I was unsettled and restless. The place I bought two years ago has never felt like ‘home’ for me even after I surrounded  myself with items from the life we shared. One night I decided to make a change and so I went looking for another place to call home down there–found it–bought it–moved in and put the old place on the market. Now I wait for that to sell. L never would have done things in that order and I can only imagine that he is up there shaking his head and trying to figure out how to help me get back on a solid trail. And yet I can feel his approval–feel him saying, “Yes. This is good. This is what you need to keep moving forward.”

For that was his hope for me–that I would step by step find my way to a life I could enjoy and find peace in. He understood there would be stumbles along the way–although he clearly thought there would be bigger stumbles than there have been. This new place feels as right as my apartment in Wisconsin–it feels like me–like us–like ‘home.’

But a dwelling does not make an entire life–for that we need family and friends and human connections. I continue to work on that as well–a harder task for this introverted loner, but one that has been successful enough that I see the power of having those connections. And there is activity or work–meaningful, fulfilling. For me that is, of course, my writing. It gets me through many a tough time. Sometimes I am able to escape into the stories I am writing, but sometimes–like now–just writing down my feelings about what’s been going on in my life is therapeutic in its own way.

I know there are many of you who follow this blog who may be struggling with loneliness and the sheer agony of having to make the effort to find your way. I believe that making that effort–excruciating as it sometimes may be–is worth it. I hope you will open your hearts and minds to the possibilities around you–the hidden messages your loved one is sending your way to say, “I am here. I know it is hard, but know that I am walking with you as you make this journey.”

Take care.


6 thoughts on “And Life Just Keeps Changing

  1. It’s been five years now. Public mourning ends but private grief never abates. I spent the first four years hiding in my cave alone. A few months after my husband’s death I was diagnosed with breast cancer and went through that journey alone without friends or family support. The subsequent treatments caused liver failure and spinal fractures. I was told death was a great possibility. The solitude, no matter how difficult, was a blessing as it forced me to decide if I wanted to live or die. I have finally decided that I will have to stop living in the memories of my beloved wonderful past, put on my big girl pants and create an all different life. I want the past so much but in reality it is forever gone. Have started attending church again and Yoga classes have helped me tremendously mentally and physically exposing me to a whole new group of persons I would have never met. Hoping now to find a travel companion that has a sense of adventure, time and finances to explore new places and experiences. But……it would all be so wonderful if it was with my beloved.

  2. I share even after five years that search for a life I can relate to. My husband and I were as close as too people could be and we never went anywhere without the other. This was great while he was alive but hard to deal with when he is gone. I certainly am an introvert and have a tendency to stay in the apartment. I also have health concerns that I am trying to deal with on my own. Thank you for sharing. It gives me hope.

    1. And thank you for writing–I urge you to take small steps that will open your life to others. It may be one of the most difficult things I’ve done–and the most rewarding. Take care.

  3. My husband is only 6 months dead and i am soo lonely. I am only beginning to thaw and let in my loss. it is the little things that sneak up behind me when I am least expecting it, and i am felled like a tree. I have tissues in various locations…my car, by my bed, in my handbag, because my tears do not wait for the ‘right time’

    1. If there is one thing I have learned in the last three years, it is that widowhood is WORK. The loneliness is a given — the work is to try and find ways of filling the hours so that fewer of them are given over to that thing we cannot change. I actually envy you your tears–I have not cried nearly enough and I know that is because I have been so determined to “be okay” so friends don’t worry. On the other hand, because I seem so “okay” I have found that friends have gone on with their lives (as is only right) believing I am getting on with mine. The one thing I know for sure (and the thing that gets me from day to day) is that he is with me–every day I see at least one little sign/reminder that makes me smile. Embrace those moments if you are having them–with tears, but also with a smile that you shared this moment. Take care.

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