The third day of widowhood has begun for me. I spent a little time on the deck this morning as I sipped my tea. As I was sitting there thinking about how lucky we were to have those kind of friends who would build that deck and steps, I was hit with the fact there is no longer a we, or us, or ours. Now, there is just me. I think that moment when it really hits you that there is no more we, us, ours, is when part of what widowhood is about really sinks in.
I have been part of a being a couple, of being a wife for over 30 years. Been everything from a working wife, to a well kept wife. Now, I am on my own. Thankfully I am blessed with the most wonderful son a mother could have, and the most awesome friends here anyone could ask for, so am far from alone. With their help I will learn to adjust to this just being me thing.
Sometimes I think it both easier, and harder to adjust to that after what I've gone through. Easier because having become his caregiving wife at the end, I also was forced to deal with everything myself. But, I lost some bits and pieces of me during that time because I focused only on doing everything I could for him. Our world, my world, revolved around his care. Getting him to blood work, chemo, doctors, and of course, visiting him in the hospital and nursing facility when he was too sick to be home. Holding his hand and telling him I loved him as he left me. I did that gladly. Would do it all over again for him. But now I have to learn how to find those bits and pieces, put them and my life back together, and become, well whatever the hell it is I want to become.
Yesterday one of the things on the To Do list was to call Apria and have them come pick up the hospital bed and oxygen machine today. I just finished cleaning out stuff from under the bed, and stripping it down for the last time. Damn that was harder than I expected it to be So many mixed emotions. The hatred for that bed and all the oxygen tubing and masks I had cleared from under it because they were reminders of how hard he fought. Yet the knowledge that I would gladly make that bed up one more time, and not throw the oxygen tubing and masks away if it would give him a chance to have won the brutal battle he fought these last few months. But he's not coming back, so I took that trash bag full of tubing and masks, and threw them in the dumpster. Saying to him as I did, "Baby, you are free of all this now."
Then I spent some time with my son, and made sure he understood how proud his father was of him, and very much his father loved him. Seeing him, my beautiful daughter in law and my 3 grandsons has been so wonderful. I know Chris is concerned about me, worried am I going to be alright. I am assuring him I will be fine. I have so many friends who will help me here. I am also wanting him to understand that being able to look after myself, to be a strong independent woman who is living life now on her terms, is a goal I am determined to reach.
