Widowhood is a Journey

 Widowhood is a Journey

 

Yep that's Tom...wanted his hair cut short. 
Always tried to please him.

 

This last week of October I usually post something about Tom; A remembrance of this man who had been part of my life for over forty years. He died on October 29.

 

I’ve written of his last day, our last week. 

Conversations and experiences we shared those late days of October 2014. 

 

Those moments are forever burned into my mind…and heart.

 

Along the way I’ve shared sweet stories of a life well lived.

 

And on occasion I’ve shared the tragic story…the one where he left this earth. My tragedy. Tom was a believer. Heaven is his new home. It was actually the best day of his life. My worst.

 

Last year, I experienced on this journey something along the lines of emotional exhaustion. It was hard. The pain of that made me a bit timid about how this year, this sixth anniversary of Tom’s death would unfold. 

 

Widowhood is a journey. Sometimes it feels as if you’re walking the bumpy path with a blindfold. Others can share their own experiences, but the best advice is to remember every journey is different. Expect the unexpected.

 

Then came 2020. We are all here. We are all living the unexpected.

 

With 2020 came the COVID-19 pandemic. My scientist husband would have been a frontline warrior for all with the CDC, but moreover, he would have been a pillar of strength for me during long periods of quarantine.

 

This summer, racial tensions, ever present but always just below the surface erupted in a challenging way. Though I must say there are some good results. I am seeing more discussion and awareness and thankfully more, shall I say “pigment challenged,” people striving for understanding of our brothers and sisters of color in this place we call the land of the free… I know where Tom would stand. He took to heart the message of reconciliation outlined in the Bible. Moreover, he never thought himself better than anyone else.

 

The political scene would have given Tom a heart attack. Enough said.

 

This year we’ve seen raging fires destroying everything in their path, and like COVID-19, left unchecked, will cross boundaries and continue to obliterate life as we know it. 

 

And although I grew up in Florida, I don’t remember a hurricane season like this one. Ever. 

 

Last Sunday the Bengals lost. In the final moments. I must have been “channeling” Tom because I was cheering over each victory on the field and yelling for the defense to step up their game in the end. And no, I don’t really believe in “channeling.”

 

I envy Tom not having to deal with all of this. Is that sinful to envy? But I’m here and he’s there. I’m still walking… yes sometimes crawling along this path called widowhood…feeling my way. I too, am a believer in Jesus Christ, so I don’t do this in despair. I know God has a plan. Over and over in my life, He has proved to be trustworthy and in a better position to know what may lie ahead for me. 

 

Six years. And the journey continues.