Should. Shouldn’t. Why not? Maybe.

Navigating as a new widow, I find I am constantly being confronted with “Should/Shouldn’t” (S/S) information. The worst offender is my own brain. Having been the other half for so many years, decisions of the S/S kind were made together with thought and conversation. There were no judgmental rules for us to follow, but rather pragmatic discussions and decisions. In the last year of VST’s life, with cancer silently robbing me of him, “Maybe’s” were no longer considered. Many things that were, were no longer. “Wouldn’ts” were the norm. Our life was a black and white landscape of the KNOWN and SAFE.

VST was a cautious man. Thankfully, he was, because it has left me in a safe situation now. Without his planning, willpower, and Stay-The-Course attitude, never would I have been financially solvent and safe. I was always the one veering to the right or left, wanting to take the unmarked path to see what wonders were around the bend. VST, on the other hand, used Google maps and Garmin to be sure he was following the Right road to a Certain destination. Safe and sound we would arrive ahead of schedule, leaving me to wonder what really cool things we missed along the way.

Safety was always comforting to me. VST kept me safe through fires and my own medical issues. He always knew what we SHOULD do in any situation and why we Shouldn’t do anything other than that. He internalized his own conversations of WHY NOT and I was left with the final answer of how things would be best handled. My input was always factored in, and the whimsical thoughts of a fantastical writer were an amusement, but in the end, the practical side always won out with him. He ALWAYS knew just what to do, or at the very least, did a fine job faking it until things worked out.

On April 8th, my Garmin following Captain left on HIS new adventure, leaving me to stop and think about all the S/S decisions that faced me. In the middle of two complicated real estate transactions, while awaiting my husband’s cremation, I freaked out for a minute. The new home we had selected together was in another town, small and not much bigger than a truck stop. The town had no hospital. No major box stores except WalMart. It was on 1/2 acre with an RV barn. All more than I needed to think about in April. I began to question whether I SHOULD buy the house at all or choose another more sensible one closer to services.

After a frantic call to my realtor, and one more look at a golf-course home, small and safe on the fairway, I knew what I had to do. I had considered my first solo “Why Not/Maybe” and made a truly important decision for myself, on my own. The house we selected together would be mine. My roots were bound and waiting to sink into the lush green lawn and take hold. This little town was the right size for me to build a new life on the high desert. The Russian Sage and Rabbit Brush called my name, promising me their fragrance as I healed. The fruit trees would be in bloom soon, and I needed a season of growth and wonder more than I ever had in my entire life. I named my new home Winterpast, from the Song of Solomon 2:10-14.

“My beloved responded and said to me, Arise my darling, my beautiful one, and come along. For behold, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers have already appeared on the land; the time has arrived for pruning the vines, and the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land. The fig tree had ripened its figs, and the vines in blossom have given forth their fragrance. Arise my darling, my beautiful one, And come along!”

In the last six months, this has been a comfort, because on more days than not, I am finding, indeed, my winter has past.

A hard and fast commonly accepted SHOULD NOT is that a newly widowed person should make NO big decisions in the first year. I blew that out of the water. With a major move involving the upheaval of my entire life to a new town, major financial decisions consolidating the estate, making choices of people that would become my new Old Friends, and making all this work while grieving became the WHY NOT? YES. I didn’t perish. In fact, I became the best version of myself that I have been in a very long time.

Grieving along the way, the S/S crowd weighed in on many issues, again, the inner me yelling the loudest. But, so far, I have listened to my rational side, and relied on the stability and friendship of our kids who have helped guide me through the worst nightmare I could have imagined. They console me, laugh about funny memories, and are rock solid in their support of me when I really needed to investigate a situation more. Their opinions create a soft place in which I can retreat and accept their ideas as my own. However, as I heal I need to forge many things and decide my own route, taking turns onto those unmarked paths to see what I missed along the way. They wait nervously, not unlike new parents watching children do things for the first time, as I take my first steps on this autumnal journey of mine.

I am in the land of MAYBE/WHY NOT at ever turn these days. I am finding that I am more cautious than I would have believed. But, the inquisitive and curious woman is awakening. That part of me has been dormant for decades and it is now time for me to play in the leaves while the breeze catches my hair just so. My days are shortening as morning retains its chill later and later. I need to live the best life of my own choosing. VST would expect no less from me, and I honor our life together by choosing happiness and life every day. I need this time to truly become the best version of myself. Freedom from the chains of SHOULD/SHOULDN’T will allow me to find the path just right for me.

Today, just for a little while, allow your mind to wander into the meadows of WHYNOT/MAYBE. Rest there for a time and dream of what might be around the corner. The new and untested experiences that await you. Although your spouse died, don’t let yourself become a casualty as well. No one really expects a widow in 2020 to sit under a black shroud for an eternity. If they do, it is only because they cannot fully understand our unique place called WIDOW’S GRIEF, which is entirely different for each of us. Merely rest here until you feel a need to grow, and then carry on, because God has amazing things planned for you just around the bend.