The Crabby WidowNote to many well meaning folks: Yes, this is wretched. But I am in no hurry to "get over it," to "get on with my life," to "get back to my routine," or to "move ahead."
Okay, those things will happen. I accept that I will someday probably find things that bring me joy, a renewed purpose and enthusiasm for my life, a healing and a moving on. I do and will take pleasure and strength from our daughter.
Just not yet. The man I lost was indescribably special to me. For the years that we were together, and still today, he was the center of my life--the glue that held it all in place, the pole around which I orbited, the middle piece of a puzzle we were assembling together. He was my sounding-board, my mirror, my cheerleader, my comfort, my inspiration, my other half. Losing him, I lost the whole life we had planned for, dreamed of, worked toward together.
It is essential that I indulge myself in every fact of his loss, especially in these first raw weeks. My pain is one small measure of the incomparable person he was. Attempting to short circuit, bypass, or speed up that pain, to emerge out of its other side, feels at this point like a denial of who he was and what he meant to me.
I don't want to be "back in the swing of things." I want to take time to hurt, to remember, to be angry at what was taken from him, from me, from us. I want to ride the roller coaster all the way to the bottom, and maybe even pause there for a while.
Please don't rush me. Let me savor the pain and the loss, and to honor him through them.
Besides, there is no "normal life" to go back to.