The dreaded day has arrived
Well, the dreaded day has arrived, the one year anniversary of Barry's death, and I feel.....nothing. I left this day open to be alone because I thought I'd be upset, teary, grief stricken but instead I'm kind of numb. I've made it a year and nothing has changed. I've been very emotionally wrought up all week but now I just feel nothing.
Perhaps this is the acceptance of this new life I must accept, like it or not. Somewhere along the line the little thought, deeply hidden, that he might come back has disappeared. I have parted with some of the things he treasured, most because of economic necessity. I have had my mortgage modified, paid off a car, seen my child married, carried Bear to his final resting place, maintained the house, handled small emergencies (not always well) and done this all alone. So I guess by the standards of the world I am "all right".
In my heart and in my mind I am still confused and unsure about where this new life is going and what my role in it will be. I am still mom, friend, co-worker, neighbor, and this new unwelcome role of widow. How does that fit in with these other roles?
I am not the same person I was before. I have a shell now, put up around myself for the purpose of keeping myself together around others who tire easily of a widow's unending sadness. This shell goes everywhere with me work, church, shopping even speaking to my kids. If I let it down a little it alarms people and makes them uncomfortable. So it is safer, but lonely, to move around in the shell. I guess the trick for the next year will be to try and let little cracks open in the shell and see what happens. I don't like this lonely life.
Bear I miss you so much. Our years together are my best memories. I wouldn't take back one minute, one fight, one trip, one dinner, one long day in the hospital, one speck of our time together. I would not have have missed this dance.
I love you baby. And I will be ok.