Oh fuck. It just occurred to me… I’m a single parent.
For 14 years I was married. With kids. I was a partner, 1/2 of the whole, one of two.
And then he got sick.. .and I still was married… and then he died.
I became a widow. A somewhat romantic figure. A tragedy of a lost love. It didn’t OCCUR to me that I was anything but a widow. My children had lost their father, I had lost my husband, and that was just our life. We’d find a way somehow.
And then… my 2nd chapter.
I was again a part of. 1/2 the whole. One of two.
Then… my 2nd chapter ended.
I moved into the basement. I took responsibility for my kids, he took responsibility for his. I took responsibility for my house, he took responsibility for his.
And I sleep alone. He sleeps alone.
There was no tragic death. There was no sad story to tell. It was just a matter of … we didn’t fit. We didn’t work well together. We had too many differences to overcome.
I became… another single mom.
Can I pull back to the “widow” status?
Can I pull back to being the person who I was? Probably not. But it feels weird. I’m a single parent again. After 15 years, I am a single parent.
I don’t know why it feels different – I’m still a widowed parent, I’m still the ONLY parent… but I’m a single parent. And that bothers me.
But I’m going to do the best I possibly can for my boys. They deserve the best of me that they can get.