Everyone is searching for one true love. That person that’s the first you receive a smile from in the early morning, and the last you give a hug before dreams blanket you both. The person that knows you better than you do yourself, at times. The ONE. The trouble is, ONE can become ZERO if Cancer comes knocking. Such is the situation in which I find myself, along with millions of other widows and widowers in this world. It’s just a sad fact of life.
A few nights ago, I was trying to explain the wilderness of widowhood to a new friend. I found myself searching for a string of words that could explain my experience, while floundering and becoming tongue tied. In the final analysis, there are some things known only to the heart. There is a serious language barrier when trying share the experience in words. In My experience, emotional heart aches can’t adequately be translated into explanations. And yet, I try.
VST and I were a complete circuit of electricity. For decades, we functioned in one complicated sphere of knowing. If you’ve been lucky enough to experience this with another, you understand. He was my person between 1987 through 2020. Plain and simple. With little room for others, we flew through life like two crows. Some days soaring, some days on the ground, picking on road kill. Truly. Life is like that some days. So is love. We were blessed with a great marriage, working like hell to keep it as good as it could be. It was our collective focus.
Going through life with a completed circuit board is equally as bad as grieving for the person lost. My life, nuclear-powered with VST, is now powered by me alone. Rather like moving from the automobile age, back to the days of the horse drawn cart. Slow and laborious, everything demands the effort of one, so much easier and more fun with two. Some tasks have fallen by the wayside until I find ways to accomplish them on my own. Other things just get hired out. A marvelous concept.
Contemplating the next phase of my life, I’m sure of one thing. At 65, journeying alone can be a self-fulfilling prophecy. If I accept solitude for the rest of my life, that is exactly how I’ll exist. Alone and lonely. Having experienced the brilliance of love for three decades, the loneliness of solitude will cause a premature, withering death. Of that, I’m quite sure.
VST and I would banter as we drove mile after mile across country. He was sure he would leave this world first, while I knew it would be me. Neither of us believed it would happen for years. We were racing through retirement like children at recess. Screaming our heads off as we ran down the sidewalk of life. Eating ice cream for breakfast, if we felt like it. All the while, cradling the love that was our marriage. We were blessed with the biggest blessing a couple can have. Love Everlasting. For that blessing, I am eternally grateful.
Springtime comes with wonderful changes. March winds blow outside Winterpast, making me feel like putting on a nice pot of soup. Sunshine is greening my lawn. Optimism is in the air. I’m the author of my own pages, now. Choosing to write in rainbow colors, I remember the past, while living in the moment.
Mindful.
Hopeful.
Faithful.
Happy.
This lonely heart wants be happy again. I’ve been wishing for a new friend with which to walk. Someone who shares my smile, while listening carefully. I know God has something wonderful planned for me. Stay tuned. This will be one great read.