I was supposed to go to an event last weekend that had a comedian and a singer. I had been looking forward to it. But then, I just couldn't go. I didn't want to laugh. How could I laugh and be happy? My husband just died.
I've also been hearing, "he's in a better place." a lot lately. I know that, but it doesn't mean that I have to like it. I wish that a better place was here with me. I read that it takes a widow a thousand days to really deal with the loss of her spouse. It has been 166 days since Mike died. I'm not good at math, but I know that means that I still have over 800 days until I am supposed to feel more normal. I hate hearing that time will heal. I don't think time heals. I think that you learn to accept it.
I struggle to define myself again. I was Mike's wife. We did things together. I had someone to have dinner with and talk about my day. I had someone to plan things with, to dream with, to hope with. I do have my family and friends. And they are all wonderful, but it isn't the same.
Years ago, I lost my sister. She was my best friend. Next week is her birthday. It is hard to believe that she has been gone for twenty-one years. And maybe her birthday is part of my melancholy. Actually, my Mom's birthday is in September and then Mike's is in October. And then there are the holidays. We lost most of our family traditions with the passing of Mom and grandmother. We haven't quite figured out what our new normal is.
I guess that is really what I'm searching for - my new normal.
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