I don’t handle change very well.
I get cranky.
I get snappy.
I get grouchy.
And in the end, I realize there was change afoot and I level out.
4 years ago I had a life. It was solid. My husband and I, raising our children, surrounded by friends and family, I had a good job, he was the primary parent, we had a plan for the future. (mostly involving a lot of fishing and camping and grandchildren)
Then… He got sick. And was in the hospital. And then he died.
Since his death… there has been a series of changes.
Wife to widow.
Back to work.
Moved to new town.
Full time step-parent to boys who desperately needed structure and routine in their life.
Lost my job.
Got new job. (summer job)
Living on my own.
Back to school.
Back to summer job.
Amazing summer job.
Enter into a contract to buy a house.
Summer job ends.
And here I am.
My last 2 years in a nutshell.
Likely, I am not going back to the summer job. The summer job rocks. I am sad to leave the summer job. It is hard. I worked my ass off to gain the respect of the people I worked with and for. And I did. But I also worked my ass off to get to a point where I can go to school and become a nurse.
The change is killing me. I like stability. I love my job. It’s not sustainable, but I love it. In 3 years? I could just keep going with it.
But I can’t right now.
So I”m in the midst of some huge changes. Changes that wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t for my husband’s death. Changes I wouldn’t have even IMAGINED if he were still here.
And I hate change.
But I love where my life is going.
Best advice given by one of my co-workers: “Time to grow up and get a real job”
There’s dreams I never knew I had that are coming true. People I can’t imagine my life without.
And with every change that takes me further away from the dream I had with my husband… I get to grieve again. I get to go through the days and days of crying and trying to adjust my brain to “things are different”
And I’m reminded over and over again… life is never constant. It always changes. I’m rolling with it much better than I have in the past, but I’m rolling with it.
And I wouldn’t change things if I could…
Well. Maybe I’d be skinnier. But that’s in my control. So meh. It’s all good.
I miss him though. These are celebrations I miss being able to have with him. Celebrations of what’s new and exciting and I’m celebrating them on my own.
WIdowhood sucks. But widows rock.