My clump of worry ....

So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own.  Today's trouble is enough for today. ~ Matthew 6:34

Easier said than done!  My life has been shaken by Bill's death.  As much as I knew in my head that this would not be forever here on earth, my heart was not prepared for a future without him.  How am I going to live the rest of my life without him?  Memories are good but a poor substitute for the actual classy sound of his soothing voice, the comfort of knowing that I can come home and spin off the day in a safe environment and my memories certainly do not keep me warm at night.  My home was not in these four walls of gypsum and wood, my home was in his strong arms, soothed by the sound of his heartbeat and the reassurance of his breath playing with my hair.

I follow the "progress" or the "lack of", of other widow/ers and I can't help but worry - where will I fit in?  Will I be of those who work through every moment, every day, every melt-down and come out of the experience full of grace?  Or will I be like those who, after so many years, continue to struggle; maybe not with every moment but certainly at some point every day?  I have watched my own mother slowly let go of life after my father died.  There was definitely the BD and AD Mom!  Where will I fit in?  I worry about my sons.  Too soon, they have lost their father - are they loosing me too?

Every morning, I get up and promise myself that I will accept the day as it comes, and every night I try to drop my clump of worries outside my bedroom door. I know I can make a "funny" with this visual, but it simply is not in me right now.  It is easier said than done!  Some days it works and some days, not so much.

Lately, I find myself short with people, easily hurt by their comments (or lack of comments) and want nothing more than to hide in my room.  Most of my meagre energy is spent remaining in the "here" and "now".  This is my journey and I do not want to hurt others with my impatience, nor do I wish to be hurt by their actions and comments.  Why are my emotions so raw?  I have read that "the anniversary" can affect some months before.  It is described as this deep, lasting grief that takes hold close to this important date.  It sometimes lasts weeks, sometimes months, sometimes more.  Most widow/ers cannot explain it or offer any advice on how to fight it - simply live through it.

I have had enough okay days now to know that I will one day be okay, but for the time being, I acknowledge that this melancholy seems to be taking a foothold and no matter how much I promise myself an okay day every morning and try to cheer myself up, and promise that I will not be impatient with people, I can't seem to shake it.

It is almost time to put on my brave face and step out into the world, with a promise to myself to be kind to others for they are not living my grief and to be patient with myself because I miss Bill.  Here I go, deep breath - dive into a new day with new possibilities.