Some genuine healing
by Judy
Barry will be gone two years in November. I have been down to every possible bad place emotionally, physically and spiritually, and managed to claw myself back up with faith, the love of my kids and one very good friend and the fellow travelers I've met here. I've tried, and failed, to outwit the grief process and came to realize you just have to ride it until it's over. Maybe I am at that place now. I have changed in many ways. I don't love things the way I used to love them. The passing of my pets and even a good high school friend give me sadness but then it rolled away into the larger perspective of life. I've learned to live alone and enjoy it, and to be my own best friend. I've learned maybe not what I want in life so much as what I don't want. I've learned when to tackle things by myself and when to ask for help. I've learned that whatever is before me, I can handle it. If you can handle the loss of your best friend, lover and soul mate, you can handle anything. The lonliness isn't so bad now. The future isn't a scary unknown but a journey I'm just starting to travel. Barry's death is no longer a sore pain in my heart but just something that is there. Just like I am a woman, an American, a Christian and have blue eyes, I am also a widow. It's something that just is true about me and I can't beg, scream, pray or bargain it away. It's part of who I am. It just is. I don't know how I got to this place except that every day I just kept on living and letting grief roll me to where ever it would. Someone here said we adapt and I believe that's what happened-I adapted to being alone, making decisions alone, began to care about myself again. To be alone and still love the person I am without a mate. Life has more color now, and the biggest thing is I'm not afraid anymore. I know I'll be ok. To all of you here thanks for the love and support. You carried me through. JM
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