In two days it will be a year. A year since Ron suddenly and unexpectedly died from a massive heart attack.
Life is full of transitions, birth, childhood, college graduations, love, marriage, friendships gained and lost and death. They say it is not what happens to you in your life, but HOW you deal with it that counts the most. I have been told repeatedly how "well" I am handling Ron's death, with strength, grace, poise and class. It is wonderful to hear such praise, yet at times I feel as if people don't really know or understand this grief process I have had to endure.
The smile on my face, the ease of my steps and the strength of my presence are a mere facade and do not allow much of a view into the hurt, pain, anger and sadness beneath. It is a daily struggle when I wake each morning knowing my life will never be the same and the person I loved will never again hold my hand, touch my face or kiss my lips. I must make an effort each day to get up, pull up my big girl pants and step firmly into my new normal with as much confidence and backbone as I can muster.
This transition to becoming a widow is in the grand scheme of life, just another turn in the road. It is a HUGE turn, but a turn nonetheless. Friday, I have decided, is the day I will remove my wedding band. It is symbolic of the end of our marriage by death. Til death do us part. I won't stop loving Ron, but the symbol of our union, our marriage must be set aside. It is time to take another turn, as a widow, and face the world without the protection of our partnership. I must accept that I am no longer a married woman and be the strong, independent, single woman this transition has created. This doesn't mean I am ready to date or even consider a new relationship, first I must reconcile the new relationship I have with myself and my daughter. I have work to do, but this internal work must be done alone. Not saying I don't need my Village - oh I need you all more than ever! Without that support, I could never take another step.
I have two more sleeps until I must relive that terrible day - and yes, it is inevitable that I will relive it. I will play each and every moment of that day over and over in my head, trying to connect to any little memory, feeling or sensation that brings me closer to the memories of Ron as he was that day. I will approach that bridge to the other side, the second year of being a widow and I will cross over. Like all the other transitions in my life, I will breathe, smile, cry, sob, laugh and most of all - I will LIVE.
No comments:
Post a Comment