This may be the end of a chapter but certainly not the end of my story. These last two weeks have been interesting. At the top of my daily "to do" list I carefully print in beautiful curly script ... find that one moment today that is pure and real. At the bottom of list is ... lay with your moment and smile. As I lay in bed last night, waiting for sleep to come, I realized with not a smile but with a great big toothy grin ... I had two! Given the time of this post, I am still waiting for sleep to come but my grin is surely lighting up the room for I remember the days when the highlight of my day was finding the courage to shower and a really great day was when I managed to remember to put toothpaste on my toothbrush before brushing my teeth! Nowadays, I barely have to check my routine list to remember that toothpaste is required.
The story continues. The main character is "me" and the first 6 chapters describes the poor widow who struggled with the simple things required to survive - food and personal hygiene; no wonder my circle of supports started to shrink. Those who really cared never said a word about the smell! The next couple of chapters were tough enough because the real grieving started but there was hope - I ate and bathed more regularly.
Chapters 9 and 10 are about self-discovery. No longer the "poor" widow, I took stock of what I had accomplished like pulling lint out of the lint trap, pumping my own tires and planning the renovations of my bathroom to list but a few. I now am simply a widow. By the end of the 10th chapter, I found myself planning not for the moment, yes you really do need to put one foot in front of the other to avoid falling flat on your face, but for the next hour and every so often, for the next day.
The story continues. Coming up on the 11th month anniversary, one month short of the 1 year anniversary I realize that I continue to wear my mask. Going through the motions, smiling when it seems appropriate and even injecting a chuckle or two in the conversation. Meanwhile, I sit there thinking - where is my other classy, yummy, warm hearted, solid, safe - other half? In the last little while, I have forced myself to reflect on these conversations, these social gatherings, and look for that one moment where it was pure and real. Then I choose to peel away the rest and sit with that one moment in the day, for it is about living. I want to remember Bill not in grief but in life and to do so, I need to live. I won't say that I am always successful but every so often, there is a gem of a moment. Yesterday there were two! End of a chapter?
"I want to remember Bill not in grief but in life and to do so, I need to live." This kind of says it all, doesn't it? I too find those "pure and real" moments, they are as unexpected as the waves of grief that come at us out of nowhere. Sometimes it's when no words are said; a smile, a nod, a warm hug. . .
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