Monday, May 25, 2015
I sit here and ponder how very much
I'd like to talk with you today,
There are so many things
That we didn't get to say.
I know how much you care for me
And how much I care for you,
And each time I think of you
I know you miss me too.
You had so much to live for
So many things to do,
It still seems impossible
That God had taken you.
And though you've walked through heaven's gate
We are never far apart,
For every time I think of you
You are right here within my heart.
Saturday, May 23, 2015
Lately, I was bombarded with questions if I am indeed leaving Wells and moving to another states. But I think, people are more curious if I am simply moving to a different location or moving in with another man. That's the disadvantage of living in a small town, you become a fodder of idle talk as everyone seems to want to know everyone else's business.
But you see, my life has always been an open book - that's why I blog about it.
So today, I decided to answer everyone's question although this is a process and the outcome is not certain yet.
So here goes nothing...
I guess, as a widow, I was anything but.
On hindsight, I admit that by continue on wearing my wedding ring and discussing Ken to suitors (yes, there were some), may have signaled that I wasn't ready to move on. It is because I felt torn between feeling very attached to his memory and taking tentative steps toward a future without Ken.
Not long ago, I met a man with whom I instantly hit it off. We talked for hours online telling stories about our childhood and swapping anecdotes about our lives. He knew I've lost my husband. I felt comfortable discussing it with him. I felt none of the pressure that goes along with courtship. And his kind, nonjudgmental demeanor made it easy for me to open up. Instead of pity, he responded with empathy. He wanted to learn more. He understood how essential it was that I talk about it. He acknowledged that widowhood was central to my story, and he take interest in it.
He invited me to visit Florida. We went to Disney with my friend in tow and we had a good time. Our first personal meeting ended platonically, but it reminded me that I still had the capacity to connect with a man. In a small but significant way, something shifted for me when I returned home. It felt good and restorative just to feel giddy over someone again. It was a small step towards truly moving forward.
Of course, I'll carry the experience of widowhood forever. But the burden does get lighter. And where once the possibility of ever having a relationship again was unthinkable, I don't feel that way anymore. I don't feel tragic, or anomalous.
I feel ready. Almost.