Today, VST’s been gone eleven months while I’ve been left to regenerate. During our lives together, we were rarely apart eleven hours, let alone months. So much has changed during that time. Along with his physical absence, gone are traditions and activities once taken for granted. In many ways, I’m glad he didn’t need to suffer through the last eleven months with us all, as he would’ve resisted all the changes in a big way.
When VST passed last April, Covid Terror was striking everywhere. There was no normal in which to fall back on or cling to. Even the simplest activity, such as sharing a meal with friends was eliminated. I found myself alone with stacks of boxes, awaiting movers that would arrive 17 days after widowhood did. There was no changing or stopping a million little details that needed attending, as new buyers were moving in right after the last dust bunny had been swept away in the Dunmovin House. Harrowing days of loneliness swirled together with the frenzy of a huge move. Big risks, and bigger unknowns. All while grieving for the loss of one-half of my being.
Last night, a friend and I spoke after reading the blog of the first time. In a concerned voice, I sensed a worry that something was missed in the times we’ve spent together. Was I really okay? Who was this Grieving Gardener? This caused immediate concerns that I’ve missed something while lost in Widow’s Wilderness. After a few sleepless hours last night, I’ve returned to my psychological base camp. I’m doing just fine, for me. In my own way, I’ve made it through an emotional and barren landscape of grief. Such a personal path of growth, it becomes impossible to explain the transformation and healing, except by gauging one’s own heart. Mine is doing well, although changed forever.
This month, my last word describing VST and our relationship is REFLECTIONS. We were always reflecting on our course through life, deciding whether to remain on a path, or veer right or left. Reflections reminded us that time was precious beyond anything else we owned. Reflecting on our relationship, we found ways to repair the things we could, and accept the things that were impassable. Through the course of more than three decades, we made a beautiful life together, unique and our own.
Reflections in my mirror show a woman I’m just now getting to know and like. Strong and beautiful in a very quirky way, I’m exhausted, yet resilient and strong. Not an athlete myself, I’ve never finished a grueling race or made 17 runs down the slopes of Sugar Bowl, but I’d expect that April 8th will be such a day. Banged up and battered, I’ll plant my flag. I’m a survivor, completing my first year of life as a single woman. Never realizing my identity was so intertwined with the rigors of being a good wife, a rebooting was necessary. As I heal, there is contented happiness found in discovering who I am now. Since September 24th, 2020, writing has been a way to vent my pain and suffering, but also delight in new discoveries and personal growth. Without words, I couldn’t have come this far.
Today, I’ll release eleven colorful balloons to the heavens. I remember May 8, 2020. A very scared, lonely widow stood in my back yard with one solitary balloon. At exactly 10:30 am, the balloon was release amid painful tears, and she dropped to her knees and spilled tears into the lush lawn. Oh, yeah. That was me. My balloon releases have been meaningful and healing. Each month, with one more added to the bouquet, the beauty of the moment is remembered and acknowledged. Each month, the experience changed in subtle ways. Each month, I’ve changed as I heal.
I’ll never be the old me that was a side kick to a very complicated and wonderful VST. He taught me a lot about cherishing things that are most important in life. He also taught me a lot about things I’ll never accept in my life, again. This is my time now. The choices I make will write the last chapter of my life. VST-isms will guide some decisions, while Joy-isms will make final call.
Surprising me some days, the trust I’m finding in my own judgement is refreshing. In the last years of our marriage, I found it easier to trust VST and his wisdom, accepting decisions he made for the both of us. Laziness? Partly, yes. With a final acceptance that VST was the man, and men just know. Guess what??? Women know just as much about important things. Trusting myself now, I’m finding new skills, while using my intuition to guide me.
Today’s personal reflection won’t be the same tomorrow. Growth changes the reflection in subtle ways. Grateful for a wonderful life together, I was blessed to find love with VST. Now, I’m equally blessed to find I love myself.