When I first became a widow, a fellow widow sister told me that each day, each month, each year, gets easier but there will always be things that bring up periods of sadness. A lot of times it comes unexpectedly, others, like the month of September, it's pretty known. But, apparently, the fact that it has now been almost 4 year, many people have started having opinions on me "moving on".
Let's talk about that for a minute. What does me "moving on" mean to you? Does it mean:
-Getting over "it"?
-Forgetting about the past?
-Not crying anymore?
-Not being sad anymore?
-Not talking about him or posting on social media about missing him? Or if I do, it only can be happy posts, right?
-Dating Again?
From a somewhat analytical standpoint, the definition of "Move" is:
1. to pass from one place or position to another
2. to go from one place of residence to another
3. to advance or progress
Ok, fair enough. I moved from Austin to Houston. Moved from one house to another. I moved my job from Austin to Conroe and THEN I even took a promotion to move to Houston. To advance or progress- I suppose this is up for discretion, but let me explain it to you like this. 4 years ago on this day, I crawled in my grandma's bed to try to sleep and cried so hard I was shaking. I couldn't get up. I didn't pick up my babies. I could barely speak a sentence without bursting into tears. I screamed. I yelled at people. I cried and cried and cried and cried and cried. Can you visualize that? On the other hand, today, 4 years later, I woke up in a hotel room in San Antonio, took a shower, got dressed, put on makeup, got my children ready and am headed to Sea World. To do something fun. Because on any anniversary or important day, that's what Mike would want to do- something fun. Is that not advancing? Is that not progressing? I have MOVED forward soooo much from where I was 4 years ago.
I feel like at this stage of my life, those that were once supportive and encouraging have turned to judgment. I'm not grieving in the way you want me to grieve. I'm not living my l2wife the way you want me to live. I'm so thankful for the large online support you can find these days with so many incredible women that have walked in my shoes before me or with me, whom write so much more eloquently than I, that so often validate my feelings. I've always been a rule follower, wanting to do the right thing, not wanting to disappoint. Can you imagine how painful it is to feel the judgment as you grieve the most traumatic and painful loss of your entire life?
Before writing this, I read this blog here that wrote:
"There's a quote that says, "I will not hide my grief, as I did not hide my love". We will continue to publicly honor the men we loved, WITHOUT shame, and WITHOUT your permission. It's our journey and we have the right and freedom to tell our stories any way that helps us heal. What works for one widow might not work for the next. But considering you've never lost a spouse (and we pray you never do), you're in no position tell us when or how to grieve!"
"I will not hide my grief, as I did not hide my love". Let that soak in.
Just last week, I read this amazing article here that wrote:
"You aren't entitled to an opinion. You don't get to comment on the choices of a widower while you sit happily next to your own living spouse. You didn't have to stand and watch your mundane morning turn into your absolute worst nightmare. You didn't have to face the agony of despair and the only person who could possibly bring you comfort had been ripped from your life forever. You didn't have to stand in the ashes of what was once your life, when the sun itself darkened and the very air you breathed felt toxic in your lungs. Go back to scrolling Facebook and keep your ignorance to yourself.
We've gone through hell fire and lived. We don't need your negativity in our lives."
"You don't get to comment on the choices of a widower while you sit happily next to your own living spouse". This rang so loudly for me. I would love to argue with my husband about what we are going to eat for dinner, the socks he leaves lying all over the house, and any other petty fight you're having right now. I don't tell you how those comments make me feel so you don't get to have an opinion on my happiness as you sit next to your living spouse.
Losing a spouse is a special kind of hell. You can lose a grandparent, a sibling, a parent, have someone absent from your life that you wish was still here, be divorced, etc. and it DOES. NOT. COMPARE. Are all of those things terribly sad, depressing, and their own version of hell? Of course! Loss affects everyone in different ways and those are devastating losses. But yet, they still don't compare. I'm not saying one is worse than the other because what's important to me is not what is important to you. I am saying they are NOT the same. Not even close.
Imagine your life as is- your daily routine, your husband that comes home to you and kisses you every day when he walks in the door, the special things he does for you, having someone to snuggle in bed with every night, someone to wake up to in the morning, ALWAYS having someone available to vent to at the end of a long day, someone to cry to when you need to cry, who holds you to comfort you, someone that makes you laugh like no other, that one person that you CHOSE to spend your entire life with, the one you vowed to love, honor, and cherish, til death do you part, and believing "til death do you part" will only come when you are old, grey, and wrinkled and living in a nursing home together. Imagine THAT person. The one your whole life is consumed by. All of a sudden, on an ordinary day, they're gone. They will never hold your hand again. Never kiss you again. Never hug you again. Never hold you again. Never speak to you again. You will never see them on this earth again. There's no chance you'll run in to them at the grocery store. They're GONE. Forever.
This is my life. I believed in marriage one time. I believed that I was marrying the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. I believed that we would grow old together, raising our children, becoming grandparents together, and die in a nursing home together. I never in a million years guessed that at 27 years old, on an ordinary day, I would walk in to my house for the very first time without my husband and that he would never come back through those doors. Or imagined that my 4 month old twin babies, would NEVER even have the ability to know their dad and what an amazing man he was. It's not something you can ever begin to fathom if you've never experienced it. So, YOU DON'T GET TO JUDGE ME. You just don't.
I will NOT forget him.
I will NOT stop missing him.
I will NOT get over "it".
There will likely NEVER come a year where something doesn't make me sad or make me cry in memory of him.
I will NEVER stop talking about him and the things I miss. You know why? Because he has 2 children. 2 children that only know their father from a photograph and the stories I tell them. Have you ever met someone that's been adopted? More often than not they grow up and want to know about their birth parent no matter how amazing their parents are. This isn't much different. My kids are going to want to know the amazing things I know about their daddy and damn it, I'm going to share all that I can!
Dating. (insert eye roll emoji here). Since when did dating become a sure fire way to indicate someone has "moved on"?! Why do I have to have another man in my life for YOU to feel like I have "moved on"?! I assure you, having another man in my life changes NONE of the above things. My heart can grow to still love Mike as well as love someone new. Being in a new relationship changes nothing. Beyond that- come on y'all. I'm a single mom of twin 4 year olds with significant medical issues, developmental delays, a school district that's a pain in my ass, a full time job, managing 59 staff, that at times can suck the life out of me, a house to take care of, 2 dogs, a grandma, and did I mention I'm a single mom?! Seriously. Get out of here with that nonsense. I'll date on my own terms, on my own time, whenever I want. I don't need anyone's permission, approval, or encouragement to do so.
Let's summarize, shall we?
1. I will grieve on my own terms, however I want, without your opinion or judgment.
2. I don't need to be fixed. I'm not a broken toy. I rarely, if ever, am looking for suggestions to deal with the grief and hard times that occur.
3. Small, stupid things to you may be huge devastating things to me. Examples: First day of School, Donuts with Dad, the anniversary of his death (or the month of!), his birthday, thanksgiving, christmas, our anniversary, any silly timehop memory that pops up on social media, when my kids ask about their dad in heaven. When you think it's stupid, remember #2- I'm not a broken toy. I don't need to be fixed. Don't minimize my feelings!
4. Your version of "moving on" is not the same as mine. This is my story to write, not yours, and you don't get to determine the outcomes.
5. I am NOT the same person I was 4 years ago. I never will be. That girl is long gone. How can I be?! Half of my life walked out my door 4 years ago and never came back. Y'all. MY HUSBAND WALKED OUT MY FRONT DOOR ONLY TO NEVER COME BACK. Did you read that? Let that soak in and imagine if that happened in your life right THIS SECOND. Never mind that I had 4 month old newborn twins at home, was 27 years old, and had no life insurance.
Share in my grieving, be supportive, be a good friend. I didn't just lose him, I've lost friends. People I thought would always be there are completely absent from my life and my kids have no idea who they are. My entire life is drastically different. Unless you've walked in my shoes, you don't get it and you don't get to judge, and I hope and pray you never, ever, ever, have to experience such a traumatic, devastating loss in your life that shakes you in a way that others think you'll never "move on" from. I'm proud of where I am and how I have been moving forward in my life and you should be too.
If you don't know what to say to a young widow, if you don't know how to speak to them, if you don't know how to help them- I get it. I hope that you NEVER have to "get it". I love this (Click here) blog if you want to read more to better understand where my heart is. I often find that I relate to many things here.
4 years ago today, I lost the love of my life, the father of my children, my best friend, and my husband. He made me laugh. He made me smile. He held me up on my worst days. He had the craziest ways to bring a smile to your face. He was full of the most random facts. Seriously- I don't know where he came up with some things! He was so tech savy. He loved legos, Longhorns, gummy bears, and anything else with sugar. I'll never forget the first time I came to his apartment in college and found his Little Debbie's stash. Not to mention his love for Mexican food and Mexican Martinis. I miss him so much. 4 years later and I'd like to say it doesn't hurt as much, but damn. It hurts. I hope you're proud of the mom I am to M&M and are watching over them to keep them safe. I love you so much, Mike. Always have, always will.
