If you're a widow you probably don't want to hear this (but maybe you should anyway)

 

I certainly didn't want to hear it. Really I still don't want to hear it, the thought of it makes me want to puke, saying it out loud is nearly impossible. Writing it out in a blog: well can't you tell I'm stalling.  Lets stall some more.

On January 12, 2015 at 12:46 am, my husband was pronounced dead on my living room floor. He had just turned 36, I was 34. At the end of the hall our 7 year old daughter was sleeping in her cozy bed surrounded by stuffed animals. We were high school sweethearts and had been married for 15 years, we were still madly in love with each other, we couldn't wait to have more babies: We were living our fairy tale. And he just died, out of nowhere. Our lives were over but I was still breathing.  

I'll be flat out honest, I wanted to die. More I wanted to be with Dan and the only way that could happen was by me dying. I didn't have that choice though; I woke my snuggly baby girl up in the middle of the night and told her daddy was dead, there was not a chance in hell someone was going to tell her that same thing about her mom. 

This is the part you don't want to hear. It's now been 6 years since my husband died, are you ready to hear this: I'M OK. I'm ok. Saying that sounds funny and feels funny and feels all kinds of wrong but it's the truth. I'm ok.  

Do not misunderstand this as me being over Dan or moving on, those theologies don't exist. I will never ever ever be "over Dan", I will love him with every beat of my heart until the day that I die, and then after that too. You don't move on from this, you don't leave it behind like an embarrassing memory, thats not what it is and thats not how grief works. You carry it with you always and forever it doesn't go away and frankly I don't want it to.

I told my therapist once that being healed meant that I would remember something about Dan and it would make me smile instead of cry and that I doubt that will ever happen. I would like to change that statement; I will never be healed, my heart will always have a giant hole where Dan should be. I will say that now; more often then not I smile when I remember a Dan story instead of cry, sometimes I do still cry, probably more often then non grievers think I should, but I smile more then I cry.

I've learned little by little that I can be ok. That I can be happy, that I can even find love again. I didn't wake up one day and just say "oh everything's great now."  Actually I still wake up every day thinking about Dan, missing Dan. Little by little things got 'better' better isn't an accurate word, I'm not sure how to describe it. I learned to live in the land of grief maybe.

A big question in widowhood is WHEN? When did you finally sleep again? When did you get rid of his clothes? When did you start dating? When did you take your wedding ring off?  There's no right answer, you just do what you do when you do it. Yet we all want to know WHEN? 

These are my When's, it's just when I did what I did. It's just how I got to this place, it's not good or bad or right or wrong or appropriate, its just when I did it.

1 month- started going to grief therapy

1 month- started going to a support group

6 months- spread his ashes

8 months- got rid of his clothing and bathroom things. I only did this because I remodeled my bedroom in an attempt to lessen the PTSD.

8 months- took down the stuffed animals that Baby Girl piled up in his spot on the bed the day after he died 

1 Year- slept through the night every once in awhile. I only did this because I finally got sleeping pills from my Dr. but even they didn't work all the time

1 Year- Got put on antidepressants- they helped so much.

1 1/2 years moved out of the house we had together, the house that he died in. I didn't want to but we were forced to.

2 years- felt the fog start to lift

2 1/2 years- Got Baby Girl to sleep in her own bed again. 

2 1/2 years- took my wedding ring off. it wasn't planned or anything, I just took it off to clean it one day and never put it back on.

3 years - bought a house all by myself

3 years- stopped clenching my fists in anger every time I thought about Dan dying

3 1/2 years - reluctantly signed up for on-line dating.

3 1/2 years- realized I could love someone else and that they could love me and that I could still love Dan too 

3 1/2 years- slept through the night more often then not

4 years- finally got a job, I was a stay at home mom when he died and didn't think I could handle a job until now.

4 years- stopped going to therapy

5 years- went back to therapy (Corona probably put everyone in therapy)

6 years- stopped going to therapy again

6 years- realized that I'm ok, that I will be ok.

I Still haven't:

Closed our joint bank account.

Had his name taken off all our bills.

Switched his investments into my name.

Figured out how to get his name taken off the junk mail list, including pre approvals for life insurance.

Deleted his email account.

Slept on his side of the bed.

Woken up not thinking about him.

Gone a whole day or even an hour without thinking about him. 

Stopped loving Dan.

I never imagined a life without Dan in it, I still don't know how I do it, but I am doing it. I'M OK. Maybe someday you will be too. 

I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it HERE