what might have been, isn’t possible.
what could have been, won’t be.
what should have been, can’t be.
what I wanted is no longer possible.
the way it was will never be again.
That might sound fatalistic and pessimistic to you. Maybe it is, but I’m okay with it.
I am normally annoyingly optimistic, but sometimes…sometimes…especially during certain times of the year, I boil over and I have to have a good cry and just let it go. Let go of what might have been, what I wanted, what I thought was going to happen, where I thought I was headed…let go of all of that heady possibility. Take a hard look at what is no longer and then turn around and focus on what is.
So, yes…I’m a widow. Yes, July 26th would have been the anniversary of our marriage. Yes, my late husband would have been 40 on July 18th. Yes, he died two years ago on August 8th and we buried him on August 16th. So…July 18th and 26th and then August 8th and 16th. That’s a pretty crappy stretch of time if I stop to think about it.
The thing is…I have to stop to think about it. I have to let the pain run its course. I have to because if I don’t, it just gets worse every year. I don’t remember last year being like this, but last year I was busy shoving all of my feelings down into my big toes. I wrote this and that’s how I know I was busy doing and not busy letting myself feel:
The funny thing is…the hurt was still very much in my hands then. Now…it’s still there and it sometimes catches me by surprise with its intensity. Grief is funny that way. You expect the grief to go, for the pain to leave, for who you were before to come back and for who you are after to go away. But it’s not like that. The grief never disappears, but it does shift.
And so, as the years go by…the grief and pain shift, wax and wane and I keep letting it all go, I let the pain roll through and roll out. It’s better this way.