The progressive journey toward the reestablishment of self

I started this blog more for cathartic reasons than anything else. Writing has always provided a source of solace few things can match. My husband was a brilliant writer who could crank out an article on anything in a few short moments. It was a gift. He could describe something so beautifully, you would feel like a first hand witness. The fact he was able to accomplish his point succinctly was a testament to his talent. When Darryl was diagnosed with cancer, I knew the likely outcome. I took an internal pragmatic approach while outwardly portraying the romantic notion of full remission. Deep down however, I knew. There is nothing more I would have wanted  than to have been wrong. But, by the title of my blog...unfortunately I wasn't. The pronouncement of "cancer" became the commencement of my grieving process. There were definitely some wins during this time. Those victories were what we celebrated...the colostomy reversal, shrinking of the tumor, finishing chemo, the first remission. I still have times when I am extremely bitter. During those trying periods, I try to remember there is a world full of people less fortunate than I am. I was loved 100% by my partner. There are many people who will never experience what that is like. I have an incredible support system of friends, family and co-workers who have made dealing with the loss much less painful. It is the words of encouragement from Darryl's friends or the anecdotal stories that, although bring tears to my eyes, are also the cause of much joy. It is hearing Springsteen on the radio or going to a Dave Alvin show and feeling the warm embrace of the music and knowing if he were here, it would be his arms wrapped around me. It is seeing his smile on our amazing sons face. It is all those things and more why I move forward. I will always wonder what our future would have held. I have reached a point where I can look back on what we had and smile. We were by no means perfect. We sniped and bickered. I whined. He pouted. I never viewed our marriage as an idealized version of complete bliss.  But, after hearing stories from divorced friends, I know what we had was good...good enough to last a lifetime. I continually have people tell me how strong I am or how great I'm coping. What they fail to understand is not moving forward and not living would be the biggest disservice to Darryl's memory. I have essentially been grieving for two and a half years and will grieve forever more. But, I am done with being a shell of my former boisterous, crass, vivacious, opinionated self. I miss me. I am tired of having people feel sorry for me. I am tired of being Darryl's widow. I may have been Darryl's wife, but I always remained my own person. He was not my identity nor did he define me. What we did do was complete each other. A piece of me will always be missing. But I have to adapt to the changes the void in my life causes.  The day before he died, Darryl told me to live and to love. I may not be ready for love, but I am definitely ready to start my journey towards being the happy "merry" person I used to be. Please join me for what is sure to be a wild road filled with twists and turns and bumps and forks. I promise it will be interesting if not entertaining.