The year is almost over. It’s been a pretty good one, although I’ve been struggling with some minor health issues. Part of getting older, I guess. All in all, I can’t complain. I’m still alive.
My husband has been dead for 12 years now. Sometimes it feels like yesterday, other times it feels like I’ve been a widow for eons. When I think about him, I’m so grateful for the many wonderful years we had. We were so in love when we started out our lives together, and that love grew into something so strong and powerful. We completed each other. We were one.
Here I am now, all by myself, thankful that I’ve been granted yet another year on this Earth. I’m the lucky one. And I wonder how many more years I might get in this realm before I join my husband. I hope I’ll get to see my grandson grow up. I hope I’ll stay healthy enough to be part of his childhood adventures and his life for many years to come. There’s still so much for me to do here on Earth.
With the New Year just a few days away, I am filled with anticipation, thankfulness, and contentment. I hope I get to live another year, and more after that. I pray that I do, because my children and my grandchild need me.
It’s so good to receive another blog post from you. Having just gone through the first year anniversary since my husband’s passing, it is helpful to hear your perspective as one with more experience in living within this “widowhood” experience. I wish I knew why God left me here after my husband passed. I have retired (I’m 70), have no children (our only child passed away as an infant), and am an introvert (so no desire to be some kind of social butterfly or leader among women, lol.) Granted, if God had left me a hand-written letter during the past year telling me exactly what He expected me to do on Earth during the time I have left, I probably would have screamed. It would’ve felt like the last straw — I get that. But I do wonder why I’m still here and what I am supposed to do (or “be doing” now — which implies that I’m already behind in taking care of whatever it is.) Then again, I look around me and have to realize that most of us aren’t here to do things that will be recorded in history books or never be forgotten by the community we spent our lives in, especially if there are no children and grandchildren to pass on memories of whatever we may have done with our time here. So maybe the thing many of us are here to accomplish is something that we don’t even realize we did, but that made a difference in someone else’s life — maybe it eventually even encouraged someone to change the direction of their life. Maybe it ends up being something with enormous consequences, but not something planned by the “doer” and not recognized at the time as being anything out of the ordinary. Do you think that could be the case for those of us who live quiet, largely “unrecognized” lives? If so, I think I will relax about trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing — but if not, I think I’m going to need that hand-written letter from God that I mentioned above…
I’m an introvert like you. And I’ve never accomplished anything “great” in my life, and most likely won’t. But I think even if we don’t achieve something that is recognized by the world around us, we can still have a huge impact. Like you say, it might just be small things. Maybe a smile, or kind and encouraging words that brighten someone else’s day. Also, having just crossed that one year mark since your loss, you probably are still very much adjusting to this new life. It takes time. I’m sure you will figure things out. And please also try to enjoy your life, without guilt, I’m sure your husband would have wanted that! Maybe try new things, pick up a hobby, volunteer somewhere. And the Internet is an introvert’s best friend. Perhaps you could help people online, or just connect with fellow grievers in grief forums or chat rooms. By the way, my grandmother is my greatest hero. She never achieved any conventional greatness, but her kindness, gentleness and unwavering faith made such a huge impact in my life. Perhaps some of us a called to do “just” the little things to make a difference in this world.
Lots of hugs,
Daisy