That five lettered word

Probably not the one you think of right away. I know I never really gave it much thought unless I was filling in a box on a mortgage application with a client. I didn't really understand the weight of that assignment. How can anyone understand the fear, the anger, the denial, the sadness, the anxiety, the desperation, the shattering of a heart, unless they have experienced the loss of their husband? Unless they are a widow. (This mornings thoughts only encompass widowhood through my eyes.)

That damned awful title that guarantees entry into a club we never wanted to join. If you are reading this and you too hold an unwanted membership I'm so very sorry.

When you meet your person and start to build a life you don't tend to think about the end and so as with most things in life it's easy to take everyday moments for granted. The socks next to the bed, the grocery runs, the family holidays, kids birthday parties, taking the dog out, family walks, fishing trips, house projects etc....

When you think you have tomorrow you let the stupid, irrelevant things piss you off. Who is making dinner, who's turn it is to do the dishes, who picks the show at night, who has to do bedtime with the youngest, who is running to the store etc.... You go to bed mad or you listen to a podcast to avoid the situation. You give more sighs then hugs, you pick at the things that are "wrong" instead of noticing all the "right" things in front of you.......or at least I did.

Now I would do the dishes a million times over without complaint if he would just walk through that door again. I would make dinner every single night for forever if I could have just one more hug that makes the world melt away. I would do every single grocery run for eternity just to hear his laugh just one more time. I would happily pick up dirty socks or clean motor grease off the bathroom sink every single evening if it meant that we would be watching our show together again. I'd even let him pick what we watched without the eye rolling.

Instead I'm learning how to navigate life as a widow and a mom. I'm trying to be the rock for my kids while simultaneously trying not to drown in my own grief. The nights are the hardest because I'm alone with my thoughts, my memories and this stark new reality. I'm questioning every decision I make, my anxiety is sneaky and overwhelming, I feel frozen as though I'm a statue and life is just going on around me. Things that were once easy and free flowing require immense effort and forethought.

It's only been 2 months, actually 64 days, but it's also been 2 months. One one hand it's been a short blip of time and on the other it feels like it's been an eternity. Time is fickle. The heart is not. This was not in our plans. This was not the "future" we spoke of often. You and I together shouldn't have worked. We were from 2 different worlds. And yet we knew immediately that this was the real deal, once in a lifetime, yin & yang kind of love. I'm so thankful we had 20 years together. That we built an incredible life. That our boys had you as their dad. I wanted at least 40 more years with you and I'm pissed that we don't get that time. But I could not, would not, change the time we did get.

I love you to the moon and back times a million. You are forever my person. I will keep putting one foot in front of the other and doing right by you with raising our boys.

Until we meet again. xoxoxo Sarah