What a journey it’s been! Loneliness that no one else can even begin to understand. Learning to live again as a young widow takes guts and determination. It means taking chances and making tough decisions. While putting one foot in front on the other, I’m at the end of my 4th summer as a widow and sailing along pretty well on my own now.
In April, 2020, I was in blackout mode, having lost VST, my husband of 32 years, to a sudden cancer of nine weeks. For 24 hours a day/7 days a week for 63 days, I watched him wither away. As a horrified wife, I stood by, helpless, as the once brilliant man lost every bodily function until his breathing ceased. Demons circled our home like buzzards as I chased them away with prayer. Alone, I gave hospice care to the person I loved the most in this crazy world. My VST.
My story isn’t especially unique. My tears are just as salty as the next. I’m just a writing woman that lost someone she loved. Along the way, I’ve found words to put my grief into writing. Pain sucked write through my Germanic fingers, released to the universe. For me, it’s been a healthy outlet.
Widowhood is the darkest experience. In the beginning, I was lost without direction and being lost is a horrible place to be. It’s even worse when you have only one friend in a town of 23,000. Pretty black when it becomes necessary for her to move away. Terrifying to fly solo. Me, alone. No close family. No friends. Quarantined in Covid’s grip. Just Oliver and me, sheltered by the lovely gardens of Winterpast.
I made it through my 1st’s, 2nd’s and then 3rd’s while learning so much about God’s grace. I’ve learned about relationships. I’ve witnessed personal miracles through the months after my baptism on December 12, 2021. I gained some street smarts along the way, learning that everyone isn’t always who they claim to be. A hard lesson for someone that values honesty, optimism, transparency, and positivity. Most importantly, I’ve finally become the woman I’m meant to be and I like her. A lot.
On this crisp September day, almost four years from the beginning post on this blog, I have a new story to share. It’s the sweetest. Some will say a peek to far into personal issues. But, that’s what the truth of life is all about.
On August 28, 2022, I met a rare man. In this blog, I refer to him as the Mysterious Marine. As the days have unfolded, he has shared his own tearful experiences as a widower, having cared for his beloved wife for seven years during her battle with COPD. During the last year, I’ve spent at least a portion of every single day talking, walking, cooking, eating, or watching a variety of sports with this guy. He is my very best friend. In my eyes, he’s a “Top Two Percenter” of men.
This man is a master gardener. He can fix anything that needs fixing, even a broken heart. He’s decorated his home to reflect his own tastes. After sending his high school sweetheart off to heaven, he collected himself and started on his own journey of self discovery. From 2020, we healed as we sat just six miles apart in this a dusty, wide spot on the road off the interstate on the high desert plains of Northwestern Nevada. Two grieving gardeners taking like one step at a time.
Monday, August 28th, we celebrated 1-year as a dating couple, a milestone for any new twosome. Reading through the last months of my personal journal, I smile at posts about life as a happy woman. Still a widow, but also a gardener with grief healing. What a lovely year it’s been. Through each holiday, this man has made life special. Little celebrations. New family. Special traditions. Woven through all those things, love.
Finding just the right card is tough, but when you’re a writer, there’s an internal need to add a letter. And so, in preparation for a special dinner date, I wrote. At the bottom of my letter to MM, I transcribed the verses from Song of Solomon 2: 10-12. Our winter’s have passed. Our garden is blossoming with love and happiness. The birds are singing. The turtles are singing (I found this version of the verse is found in one of my bibles. Missing the word “dove”, I rather like the vision of singing turtles.)
On the evening of August 28th, we exchanged our cards. He read the letter I wrote to him, while commenting that I always write so much. Well, I’m a writer. Go figure.
His card was beautiful. His written thoughts were heartfelt and penned in perfect handwriting. But, it was the front of the card that took my breath away.
Song of Solomon 2: 16. (The first sentence only.)
The end of my chapter was there, printed on the card he chose for me.
Without endless hours of Bible study or long, drawn out discussions about Winterpast and her name, without any earthly guidance, we both ended up in the same chapter in the Bible. Some things in life are so obvious they slap you right in the face. In life, there are no coincidences. Miracles are real and abundant.
And so…………..
He asked the one question that still needed asking.
Through tears, I gave my answer.
I said “Yes”.
Autumn is my very favorite time of year and this autumn will be even more beautiful. In front of friends and family, in our own little church, in a dusty little town on a wide spot on the interstate on the high plains of Northwestern Nevada, we will exchange vows and start off on a new path together.
Now you know.
After hundreds of blogs, thousands of words, and many, many private tears, the blog will tell of new adventures about two gardeners who grieve once in awhile about two people they loved and lost. Two 60-somethings that found a new chance at love and grabbed it. Stick around. The adventure is just beginning.
Whatever you do today, know that although you grieve, you will heal. Through your healing, your new life will be something wonderful in ways you might not expect. It is always darkest before any dawn, but the brilliance of the sunrise promises a new day. When you think of me, think of happiness and light. God has amazing things planned. I can’t wait to see what adventures are waiting just around the bend!