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Widowed Village connects peers with each other for friendship and sharing. The moderators, administrators, and others involved in running this site are not professionals.

Please don't interpret anything you read here as medical, legal, or otherwise expert advice. Don't disregard any expert's advice or take any action as a result of what you read here.

We're friends, not doctors, financial or legal professionals, and we're not "grief experts." But we are here, and we've been "there."

1 month ago today, the light of my life went away.  I woke today initially with the feeling like it was all the other days since her passing, but then feelings came flooding in.  I almost crawled back into bed and refused to go to work but this would have meant admitting defeat and giving in.  I won't go down without a fight and so I dragged myself from bed, shaved, showered and got dressed.  I made myself a lunch and ate breakfast.  I left the house about 20 minutes later than intended, and got to the office 30 minutes later than planned.  And then Google had the gaul to pop up a message telling me to remember this day in my history.  Thank you Google!  2 years ago my wife and I were on a trip in DC and the photos of that day popped up.  I almost lost it at that moment in my office, but one of my employees walked in for her scheduled meeting with me, and I pulled myself back together and met with her.  Things seem to calm for a while then one of my co-workers who had worked with my wife for many years before meeting me, sent me a letter talking about a conference scholarship that may be named in my wife's memory and I lost it.  I closed the door to my office and just sat there with tears dripping down my face and trying to decide if I could finish the day.  

Life is cruel even in its happy moments.  The fact that someone thought so much about my wife that a scholarship fund was going to be setup in her name was wonderful news, except that it meant my wife had to be dead for it to happen.  The memories of a trip together when we were both happy and seemingly healthy brings a smile to my mind except that it reminds me it was one of the last trips we would take together in this world.  

If I could offer any advice to any other person just starting through this process, it is to talk to people, share, and be prepared.  A simple thing like the last apple in the fridge, the last cherry yogurt, or a long lost comb finally being found will likely set you off.  Healing sometimes comes through pain, and so we must continue to drive through the pain to find the new us.  I was asked by someone much wiser than me, if I would have given up knowing my wife to avoid the pain of losing her.  At first this seemed incredulous.  A pompous question that was over the top pushy.  But then I thought about it, there is no way or amount of pain I would not endure to have had the more than 25 years with my wife.  And there is no amount of pain I wouldn't now endure to have 1 more day with her.  And so as I think through my life ahead, my thoughts remain upon the reunion I hope to have after I die 30 or 40 years down the road.  The moment when my beloved wife will be there to meet me.  In in that moment, this pain seems able to be born.  I will carry a part of this pain through all the years I have in front of me, I will wear it like a badge on my heart.  

So good bye 1 month, I beat you, I survived.  I may be sad, I may be tired, I may be depressed, but I am still winning.  

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