Years...

I've just realized that I haven't blogged in three months, and in that time the first year of widowhood has ended. The first anniversary was not easy, all I could think of in the days leading up to it was "At this time last year he was still okay. At this time last year life was still normal. At this time last year I had no idea what was about to happen." And on that day; "This was when it happened. This was when I called 911. This was when I was sitting in the ER. This was the last time I touched his face." The days on either side of that anniversary were like experiencing it all over again.

Three weeks into the second year I know I still have a long way to go. When I look back at things I wrote in the first month or two, here or privately, it seems I thought I should be moving forward quickly. I was reading all about grief and mourning, I was trying to follow all the advice, I was sure there would be some sort of breakthrough that would enable me to handle everything with ease. Other people always seemed to handle things better. If they could cope and function why couldn't I? Was I doing something wrong? Or did they all feel the same way I do, and like me, they were doing their best to put on a brave face so everyone would think they were strong and courageous?

I finally accepted that this is a different journey for everyone, I just have to deal with things in the way that works best for me, and it's not something I can work through in a few months, or even in a year. I still fall apart at the drop of a hat, I still think I should go into the kitchen around the time he'd usually have come home so I can greet him with a hug. When I hear the floor creak upstairs I still think, just for a moment, that it's him. I'm still on the emotional rollercoaster, one moment feeling confident and ready to take on the world, the next moment upset by absolutely everything and unable to focus.

I often feel like I haven't moved forward at all, but when I look at where I am now I see I am slowly starting to rebuild my life. I have made progress. Even if it was so slow that I felt like I was standing still most of the time. For this second year I don't expect breakthroughs, I know there will still be days when it feels too overwhelming and I don't even want to try anymore. But I'll still go on, I'll still face each day and see what happens. I'll still hang in there. I'll still try to be the person that he always knew I could be: confident, strong, positive.

Last year at Thanksgiving I didn't really feel remotely thankful, not for anything. This year I know I have a lot to be thankful for. I would have never made it through the first few months, let alone through the first year, without the support of friends and family. None of them gave up on me, even though I gave up on myself many times. I am so very grateful for all of them. Thank you, my friends.

But most of all, more than anything, thank you Jeffrey for being the best part of my life. I miss you more each day, but I know I'm carrying you with me as I continue wandering into the future.