I deserve...

I've said it again and again... being widowed is painful. In fact, it is the single most painful thing I've ever been through, and I've given birth 4 times, twice with no pain meds. It is a different kind of pain than childbirth, though there is definitely a physical component to it. The emotional pain that comes in waves at the most random times even years after Brian's death can still reduce me to instant tears. It has been 7 years since I held him in my arms as he took his last breath. It was time, he had no more fight in him, his life was no where near what he deserved. In that moment, though family was in the room, it was just us. His death was as it needed to be. I laid next to him in his bed at Hospice as he took his last breath, my eyes were squeezed shut tight because I couldn't bare to watch the love of my life leave me. When I opened my eyes his eyes were open, for the first time in 3 days his eyes were open and he was looking at my face. A single tear was on his cheek. He loved me... I loved him. Death doesn't change that, sometimes I actually think it makes it stronger. He didn't deserve to die at 43. I didn't deserve to be widowed at 41... but, what DO I deserve?

I had an incredible love. We had a life plan. All of that changed in an instant. I have had to recreate myself over and over since that day. I had to learn to be Sheryl without Brian. After 25 years I wasn't sure who that was or how to be anyone or anything but a wife and mother. Since that day I have worked hard to learn who I am as a person, as a widowed person. I know that Brian would be proud of the mother I have been and the direction I'm going with my life. Our kids are great, my business is growing, but I am missing a huge part of what is important to me. Things are good, but, I'm not completely happy. I've been in a relationship for 2 years now, but the longer we are together instead of feeling content and happy I still feel like something is missing. I feel like I am trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Don't get me wrong, I'm with someone who loves me, but the truth is he doesn't take care of me the way I need. I constantly have this feeling of "this isn't quite right, but it COULD be... IF..." There is a huge lack of physical intimacy in our relationship. Financially he has nothing, which means I am supporting him. I have a lot invested in this relationship. My heart is invested, my kids hearts are invested. Truth be told though, I keep thinking what do I DESERVE? Because I'm not getting what I need or what I deserve.

I deserve to be happy again, unquestionably happy. I deserve to have a man in my life that wants to take care of me. That may sound old fashioned, and I'm ok with that. I have been a "caretaker" my whole life. If you look at my closest relationships starting in high school my friends were always the ones that "needed" something. I've always been the one who is there for everyone. It can be tiring. I am SO ready for someone to take care of ME. Someone where I never have to question if I am in or if I'm out. Brian took care of me as much as I took care of him. I want that again. I DESERVE to have that again... I think that any widowed person deserves that chance... the chance to be happy again... to feel that sense of security that being with someone who loves you brings. I miss that. I miss being part of a relationship that just works naturally. He is out there... I KNOW he is... he has to be. My happy. My safe place. The next love of my life... I will come across him as I travel down my winding path of widowhood...

7 years... and another first...

It is a hard time of year... the "countdown" to the 7th anniversary of Brian's death has begun. My body knew it before I did. I'm tired, sad, and just not myself. As stupid as it is to say, I wish Brian had NOT died over Labor Day weekend. Not that there is a good time, and it goes without saying that I wish he hadn't died AT ALL... but he did. The beginning of school is also around Labor Day. Each school year brings excitement for what is to come and sadness for what was, all at once. It is not an easy balance. This year it brought something new, something that I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around. Something I didn't want to happen. Something I wasn't ready for. Something that has me crying non-stop... Hannah, my first born, my high school graduate, my college Freshman has moved out. I feel more broken now than I have in a long time...

I should be happy and proud that I have raised a daughter that is independent, mature, and is working hard for what she wants. I AM happy and proud, but, I am also devastated that she is gone. I literally can't stop crying. I've watched on Facebook as her friends parents are dropping their kids off at colleges hours away and I have NO idea how they are doing it. Hannah is going to school in Madison, and her apartment is no more than 20 minutes away. Still, not having her HERE is incredibly painful. More so than I would have imagined. My heart hurts in a way that I didn't expect.

Hannah was born on Feb 5, 2000. She was born on my grandpa's birthday and named after my grandma. She was my third pregnancy and first born. I had her name picked out long before she was a true thought, and I bought her nursery bedding years before she was born. For as long as I can remember I wanted nothing more than to be a wife and a mother, so Hannah was my dream come true. After she was born I would hold her for hours...
         

I never wanted to put her down, and this is a lot like that. I wasn't (am not) ready to let her go, but, this is what she wants. Hannah is mature beyond her years and has been for a long time. Losing your dad at the age of 11, after watching him die from cancer will do that to a kid. I'm IMMENSELY proud of who she is and I know that because of who she is she will be able to accomplish whatever she sets her mind to. She is like her dad that way. I always knew that Hannah would be my child to spread her wings and fly, not because she is the oldest, but because of her drive and determination. Again, she gets that from her dad.


This morning as I was texting with my best friend Jane and telling her how broken I feel she said this: "Things are changing and they are going to keep changing because that's how life is. It doesn't have to be a bad thing though. Kids grow up and have to go out on their own. I know your heart is breaking, but it is what Hannah wants. She is happy to be moving out. So... you just have to support her and try to be ok with this. And you will be in time. You just have to get used to her being gone. She's not gone forever like Brian. Hannah is still here. She's just minutes away from you. She's not in another state. You gave her the wings to fly... now you have to let her use them. It will be ok. It won't be the same, but it will be ok." True words from one widowed mother to another. I know she is right, but I can't help but wonder how this would feel if Brian were alive and well. I know it would still be hard, but I suspect it wouldn't feel like as big of a loss.

Fly my little dragonfly, go far in this big beautiful world. Just know that home is where your heart is, and YOU are my heart. You have been my constant companion on my winding path of widowhood and I made it to the sunny place in part because of you. I love you Hannah Kathryn.

The story of Tink

This car is a 1992 VW Cabriolet. Her name is Tink. It literally is my dream car, and I had wanted one since high school. In 2007 I started looking for one. Brian was doing better (his cancer at that point was no evidence of disease) and things felt like they were getting back to normal. I told him that I was looking and his response was "Your sister is getting married in Costa Rica... do you want the car or to go to her wedding?" Well, of course I picked the wedding! Fast forward several months to 2008... Brian had been diagnosed with a brain tumor, had it removed and underwent radiation... then a week later we flew to Costa Rica for my sister's wedding.

Later that summer he met a woman who had lost her husband to pancreas cancer. Her car? A VW Cabrio, the newer model of mine. He asked her if I had seen her car and she told him yes. She then said " My one regret is that I didn't buy it while my husband was still alive. He would have loved to see me drive it!" Brian came home that day and said "If you can find a car you like and we can afford it you can get one." The search began immediately!

I ended up finding my car in Michigan. We drove to Milwaukee, took the ferry over to Michigan, took the car for a test drive and brought it home. It was my 15th wedding anniversary present. This Sept I will have had Tink for 10 years. It is my most prized possession. I love it just as much now as I did then, maybe even more. I get compliments on her every time I drive her anywhere.

Our 25th anniversary is this August, and it will be my 7th without Brian, but EVERY TIME I drive my car he is there with me, joining me as I continue to wind my way through widowhood.

#longlivelove
#windingmywaythroughwidowhood