Eight years are a long time to live with and suffer from Cancer. I am on the outside of that time looking back on it. So too, my husband is on the other side of it, practicing and perfecting angel techniques whatever they might be, reveling in his spiritual release.
Four or five days after his funeral, after our family members had all gone home, and I woke up alone the first morning. I don’t mean just physically alone, being alone became a whole new experience after 13 years of family life.
I got out of bed that first morning feeling different but not in tears or distress. My routine differed in that I dressed for the day right off. No lounging around with my coffee, reading the Web, other things I routinely did each morning…that routine, that way of living…gone.
I pulled on my sweatpants that morning and reached into a drawer for a sweatshirt. With only a moment rummaging, my hands landed on a soft well-worn relic, a sweatshirt from my past, purple with the old version of the Central Vermont Humane Society logo; a sweatshirt my husband didn’t even know I owned. I never wore it in our life together, yet I wore it to threads for 10 years before I knew him. I put it on that morning, and it’s been my go-to sweatshirt since then.
Naturally, I see the connection now, psychologically, why I would choose this old thing from the past without even looking for it. It brought me comfort and even hope. It wasn’t a part of “us” only “me.”
Now, two months later, I have much to write about. More than ever before in my life, I think. When asked how I am doing, I give a standard of some reply, but in truth, I don’t know how I am doing. I am just doing. I have a temporary job in a new to me industry, maybe it will last a while or maybe just the holiday season, I don’t know.
What are my plans going forward? I don’t know. Just to move forward, since there is no going back. Maybe I will still be here, at my desk, in my home a year from now. Maybe I will move, or maybe something all together different will occur. I don’t know. For the first time in my life, I really, really, don’t know. Part of the pain in grief is the overwhelming nothingness that suddenly becomes the future. Bittersweet for the parting, liberating because I have a whole new beginning to create, again.
Right now, while I would give anything to banter with my late husband about things going on and options I may choose, I accept that he is here in spirit only. Like the wind, he is free. Some of my close friends recall that I wished at times for freedom too. I want to be free, I said. And so it goes.
Thank you for returning to my blog after such a long break. Don’t miss upcoming posts, subscribe to Making Space and together we will make it work. Like the late David Bowie said, “I don’t know where I’m going from here, but I promise it won’t be boring.”
Peace, health and gratitude always ~ Karen
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