WIDOWHOOD RECAP

Original Post: https://jeastofeden.blogspot.com/2018_12_15_archive.html

Bob has been residing at his new address for past 3 years.

I don’t begrudge him that … and I’d be there with him, if it was my time: I’m ready, with ticket in hand, and as soon as Yeshua gives the Call – I’m outta here.

In the meantime, I wait.

A lot has happened in that span of time.

I’ve learned that it is possible to survive heartbreak.

It is possible to live with the constant burn of heartache.

It is possible to feel acute loss, grief, joy, and happiness … all at the same time. I no longer feel like a weirdo when all those emotions play with my emotions – I don’t care if people “don’t get it”: I get it. And that’s all that matters to me anymore. I don’t try to explain myself. I don’t apologize. I don’t go the extra mile to make other people feel comfortable. I have a right to feel – and to process – those emotions. I have the right to process them without pharmaceutical, or third-party-intervention.

I’m doing better this time this year than I was, this time last year; and this time next year, I’ll be doing a lot better that I am this year.

I am healing, and healing of this nature takes time. I was married to Bob for 44 years; I figure by 2040 (according to data on recovery from a severe life-altering trauma), I should be certified A-Oaky by anyone’s standards.

Bob and I had always been a Team: 2 together, against the World. We started out life together like that … and we ended our life together, like that. We prayed together to get through those 106 days. I prayed for Bob; Bob asked the chaplains that came by to see him, to pray for me – we were a Team. Together, and separately. I saw what that insidious illness was doing to Bob’s body (his body was failing, but his spirit was unbreakable). Bob saw what his imminent leaving was doing to me (I was rejoicing with him; but my heart was breaking).

As a Team, We both wanted his spirit to be free.

As a Team, We both wanted him to stay with me.

Elohei had the final word – Bob went Home beyond the clouds.

When the “We” became ‘Me’, it was a hard adjustment. On my end.

It's still a hard adjustment. I’m glad Bob’s address is where we both long to be … but man! I miss my man.

I don’t feel numb anymore; I’ve made friends with the feeling of missingness.

I don’t feel hot anger towards candy scott or ron cook anymore; neither of them has a conscious, so anger is wasted on them. They both believe in karma … so, I can stand aside and let karma deal with them.

The sadness lifted when Bob’s address changed in a heartbeat; Bob is enjoying a new body – one that will never again fail him. No more pain.

Jealousy was short-lived, and I rejoice, even if tears do occasionally run down my face; because I know Bob is more alive today, than he ever was when I knew him here, on Earth. And when I eventually join Bob beyond the clouds, we’ll be a Team again. A different kind of ‘team’, but together again, just the same 😉

Moving through my new life Solo Lobo doesn’t seem frightening anymore; I love and am loved in a different way now – Elohim has blessed me with good friends who don’t let me be alone, very much. I am thankful they are part of my new life’s journey.

I regained the boldness I had before I merged my life with Bob’s life. I need that boldness to carry me forward. I need that boldness to continue living in the house my husband provided for me (and Elohim apparently insists I keep, according to the promise I made to Bob). I need that boldness to face my husband’s killers when they cannot be avoided. I need that boldness to continue living a life that no longer has a place for me in it (mother/grandmother). I need that boldness to sink roots in a city I do not want to live in, and find a way to make it my Home.

I do not mourn. Bob’s presence, like Elohei’s presence, surrounds me – I’ve learned to live with the knowledge of him even if I cannot see him: I feel him. I know he, like Yeshua, walks with me. Yes, I feel a missingness of his actual physical presence, but I do not mourn as the world mourns … as those with no hope.

I am still getting used to a life of widowhood. It is strange, and most of the time (praise The Lord) I feel kinda aloof from it: I am still me, and becoming more and more Me as time moves forward.

Though I did go through a period of reliving memories in the early stages of widowhood (which I think was normal; and a healthy way of healing), I refuse to cloak myself in despair or become a maven mourner. Bob would not want me to do that, and our Faith forbids it.

I refuse to get lost in the depths of depression and break like a fragile object, when I would much rather put all my energies into rejoicing that my husband now has a much better life in a much better place.

I am happy for him, and that makes me happy ;-)