When my ex-boyfriend and I were trying to work things out, I took off my ash pendant.
For a while… I forgot that I had taken it off. It didn’t cross my mind that I had taken it off.
And then a couple days ago, I found it on my end table. I wanted to put it away but was in the middle of something else, so I just put it on again. I forgot about it… wearing jewelry just becomes part of my skin. If I wear it long enough I feel naked without it on. If I take it off…after a while I don’t notice its absence. (ask me about my wedding rings – i haven’t noticed that my fingers are bear in months)
So I put the ash pendant on.
And it bugged me.
It’s heavy. I don’t know how I didn’t notice that before. It’s REALLY heavy.
And it sits right in my cleavage. Right where my heart is, right between my boobs. So as I move around it bounces against my boobs.
And… it wasn’t comfortable. I love it. It’s beautiful. It’s a lovely reminder of my dead husband.
But it didn’t *feel* right being on my body again.
I wear him in my skin. I wear him in my heart. He is forever a part of me.
Maybe, just maybe, I am coming to that place of accpetance and moving on? Almost fully at the “don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened state of mind” that would be so lovely?
I’d like to think that I’m coming to a place of peace. To a place of… yes, I am a widow. Yes, it’s part of what defines me much as being a mom did, being a wife did, being a student does. It defines me, shapes the way I look at the world, but it is no longer my WHOLE world.
It is a big part of it. Until I get married again, I’ll still check “widow” on the box, even if I have to write the box in because someone didnt’ think to put it there. Because it is so very much a part of who I am.
But it is no longer the focus of my entire world.
I miss him with every breath. I wish with ever fibre of my being that we could have had the life we planned. I think though, that I’m coming to a place of acceptance of what is. Of the change in our relationship, in the change in my life, in the story I am writing for my own life.