My New-Life news have, at times, been overwhelming in the past 9.5 months. New from the foundation up, life changed in one big Cancer diagnosis, declared Cholangiocarcinoma by the oncologist 7 days before VST died. During the eight weeks before, sickness had taken hold, an obvious fact. Cancer and death weren’t expected until they appeared, bringing devastating and miraculous experiences to me.
Breathing was still a necessity, although it became different through tears of grief. Panic’d days brought a rapid rhythm, while deep thought stop my breathing all together. Moving boxes and furniture at 6,200 ft. caused me to struggle for breath quite often. Putting together the memorial book of VST often left me breathless. Revisiting memories staring back through hundreds of pictures, I looked for just the right ones. Months later, as new things challenge me, my breathing remains steady. My heart rarely skips a beat. My body is learning this new normal of living, while repairing a battered heart. Thank goodness it could run on auto pilot these past few months.
“WINTERPAST” was the best “NEW” I could’ve chosen. Moving couldn’t be stopped, and for me, shouldn’t have been stopped. New ways of thinking and doing were embraced, as every bit of advice I received told me to stay put. New walls waited for aged pictures and paintings. Like old friends, many have been with me since I was a babe in arms. Guardians of my past, my new home offered the perfect places for them to rest, watching over me still. New ground, new plants, new spring life, new hope, in my new season of life.
Yesterday, I was thinking about VST’s office and the pack-rat way he had stuffed two closets with his belongings. Not an inch to spare inside, they were full to the ceiling with belongings reflecting a rich and full life. Some things hold their secrets tight, as he is no longer here to add stories we would’ve loved to know. New discoveries hid amidst his treasures in things I didn’t know he had secreted away. His treasure trove of memories dear to him became new to me. Each new office document I discover, less than a year old and inked with his left handed writing, is a new hug in message form that I can handle this stuff.
New town. New friends. New street. New house. New routines. New. New. New. This against every bit of advice I received when VST died. Discarding old, while embracing new, I ran into the forest of widowhood with scissors. Tripping, scraping my knees, falling, face first, but always getting up, I kept going. Pretty soon, the scissors were dropped for safety, and I kept going. After awhile, I didn’t need to run so fast. Today, here I am, having survived my wedding anniversary yesterday, while almost arriving at the milestone of my first year without VST. New. Faith anew.
Yesterday, I continued viewing the Marvel Cinematic Universe movies about fantasy heroes that have outrageous abilities. There are over 20 movies in the series, so, it’ll take me awhile to finish. This genre of movies, new to me, took some time to embrace. After watching six, I find I’m enjoying the story lines of each one. The bedroom television provides a new location to watch them. My own private and comfy movie theater has become part of a new routine, with jammies the required attire. Popcorn optional.
A few days ago, while trying to explain the events of this personal tragedy, I envisioned my former life as my neat and tidy doll house. Everything was dialed in, just so. Things clicked along by design, with two happy people enjoying the fruits of their labor. On a cloud free winter’s day, cancer took that life and turned it upside down with the fury of the universe. I was left to scurry around, grabbing at bits and pieces of broken-everything, with the need to put things right immediately. Today, new experiences are beginning to gel into life, after the old life was swept away forever, now memorialized on the pages of scrap books, keeping sweet memories alive.
Today, embrace your New, examining it for redeeming changes it has presented in your life. While widowhood is certainly not a deliberate choosing of our own, sunshine follows any storm. Find a little ray and bask in it. Grief’s darkest hour will lighten as the days roll on. Don’t forget to look for the true beauty of new life. That’s my news for the day.