Anniversaries ....

Seven months today.  I look outside and wonder what would we be doing today if Bill was still here.  Like most Sundays, I probably would have snuck downstairs, rummaged around the kitchen with excitement and made him a great "healthy breakfast" of porridge laced with flax seed, a couple of pieces of multi-grained toast covered with non-sweetened jam and a great big cup of java!  Voila!  Then I would have gone up the stairs with a light skip in my footstep to bring my treasure to our room.  With a great big grin on my face and sunshine in my heart would have said, "Good morning sweet thing!"  As I've shared before, Bill being who he was, would have propped himself up, face all wrinkled from sleep (Yum!) and with as big a grin as mine would have said, "What's this?"  It was a great little game we played and it never grew old!

Another monthly anniversary (*groan* thought I was done with PMS)  - the anniversary of my beautiful friend joining the angels in heaven.  The anniversary of my joining the Sisterhood of Widowhood (catchy title).  And as always, for the past seven months, I become quieter as the "date" grows near; I feel the weight of my new title and all it entails become heavier.  And as always, I look forward to the next few days when I start to recover and the symptoms of extreme grieving goes away.

This morning, I pondered on this cycle and have come to a conclusion.  Although I cannot change the circumstances, it is time to take hold and control the only thing I can - my attitude.

As usual, I wandered into the garage this morning with my cup of java.  I started feeling sorry for myself - dang, the toilet is blocked, the car is making whooshing sounds, the dryer is overheating and there is no Bill around.  I hate this! I hate having to figure out what to do.  I was ready to totally break down when I realized what I hated more was feeling so helpless.  Then I backed my self-pity bus up and started to let the good things I've done join me on my trip.

I thought back to the days after Bill's death - time with the boys, time with the friends and family all the while keeping myself in check, recognizing that they too had suffered the loss.  The funeral arrangements, the readings, the songs and securing an organist, the wake and the funeral itself.  I wrote and delivered his eulogy and even managed to crack a joke, something Bill would have been proud of.  After this, there were the endless pieces of paperwork, getting the boys settled into college, getting back to work and being part of a larger picture.  Let's take stock in the fact that we had Christmas at the Walton's this year, complete with a ceremonial lighting of the luminaries! I have gotten up every morning refusing to go back to bed when all I wanted to do is sleep and have the world pass me by.  I did this and so much more - like start a blog!  A blog that judging from the comments, has not only been good for me but has supported others in their journey.

I looked back at all of this and wonder, "How did I do this?  Was it really me?"  I always believed  that without Bill, I would not have the strength to pull this together.  There are mornings when I look in mirror and I scarcely recognize the woman looking back.  She is a stranger to me and I would not believe that this woman could support all of these changes.  This reflection is part of me and as the days come closer to the "monthly" she really wants the other one back.  The one who had the strength to do so much more.

I am determined that the next time this reflection comes back to stare at me, I will remember that she is but a part of me and not all of me.  I will remind myself that although I cannot change the circumstances, I can change my attitude and by doing so, I will be okay.