Someone I admire, I look up to, I have on the *teeniest* of pedestals wrote a blog today that resonated with me.
Especially given that I thought I had a chapter 2. That I thought I had a forever love again. And especially given that that ended and here I am, once again, on the eve of my wedding anniversary, alone.
Tomorrow I will go to a waterfall near where I am working and spread some of my husband’s ashes into the river that leads to the water system my husband so dearly loved to fish.
I am deliberately taking two people with me whom I have very little knowledge of who make me laugh while I’m at fire camp.
I’m on purpose not doing this alone.
I may cry. That’s ok.
But the blog that was written – it expresses how I feel. I am a widow. I would have been a wife to the man I love, had it not ended. I would have been both.
I can love the dead guy, at the same time as loving the live guy.
I will not give up my widow card.
HIS LIFE MATTERED. MY LIFE WITH HIM MATTERED. THE PAIN MATTERED.
Everything I went through with my husband, through his illnesses, 6 months in the hospital before he finally died with me at his side… IT MATTERED. And I will not pretend that he is replaceable or that loving someone new means I am no longer in love with him, or that the life I shared with him, the love I shared is irrelevant because I love someone new.
I am a widow.
At some point in the future, I may be a wife again. I will still be a widow.
None of those facts exclude the other.
Take a moment to read Michelle’s blog. She’s an amazing woman who I was blessed to meet accidentally in San Diego at Camp Widow 2013, and whom I am sad I won’t get to see in Toronto at Camp Widow this year.
I am a widow. And I am not revoking my widow card. Because that part of me MATTERS.