How the Fall Becomes Autumn

It's been a good while since I've written.  I've been busy and life has been getting in the way.  Who knew?  I didn't know if that was going to be possible again, but it's true.  I have so much that I've learned in the past few months.  I'm almost to the two year mark of my widowhood.  As much as I wish it was just yesterday that I was able to hear my dear husband's voice, hold his strong hand, and have a kiss good night, I have to say that I no longer think it would be worth reliving the painful path of these past two years.  Same goes for Adam.  No, I've not gotten bitter, nor have I quit loving either of them.  I'm learning to clear the leaves that fall in my path, the litter that death leaves to trip you up, and to make my way with my eyes more focused.  In doing so, it leaves me more time to soak up the autumnal beauty and reflect on another year about to come to a close.

I've learned that I can survive on my own.  I have enough money to keep our little house and if I'm careful, indulge in occasional pleasures.  Initially I didn't know if even that would be possible.  I can sleep through the night and not be afraid.  I've accomplished some tasks I never anticipated managing and am learning how to ask for help or to hire people to manage others.  So, yes, I can live without a man in my life.  I don't know if I want to, however, yet I don't really know if I want one either!  I do miss having someone to travel with, to enjoy a sunset with, to hold my hand for no reason, and to comfort me when I am sad, and laugh with me at all the silly things in life.

I've found that I have a support system that is as massive and complex as mass transit.  They come from every corner of this country and from all walks of life and circumstances.  There are some I see and hear from more often than others, but that doesn't mean they matter less.  Each person I now have in my life is there purposefully and by my choice.  I've had to make some hard decisions in that arena in a very few instances and it was hard.  It's hard, just as a wife and mother who has spent their entire life doing what was necessary for their children and spouse to think about putting herself first.  But that's exactly what is necessary; my son, his wife and Adam's widow don't need me to supervise their lives - they do quite well on their own - which is exactly as it should be.  Their lives are far less complicated if I am doing well on my own and we have lots more fun and healthier visits if I'm doing what is good for me, as they are doing for themselves.  The point is that I want them to WANT me, not to need me, and I think that we're there.  I love each of them dearly and their children, my grandchildren, are absolutely the delight of my life.

My sisters are a true witness to the wonderful family my parents created.  Our parents put us first at every turn and my sisters are equally generous in their absence, being intuitive, honest, loving and always there.  The legacy is long, but they do it very proud.  Well done, Mom and Dad.

Girlfriends.  They are as necessary in my life as the air I breathe.  I am spending time with friends I've had for 53 years, along with those I just met last summer.  Women are strong, resilient, soft and caring.  The best friends I have never tell me what to do, but help me find my way to clarity to make good decisions.  They stand by even when I'm not necessarily functioning on all cylinders or worrying over something totally unnecessary.  Without being hurtful, they have an amazing knack for steering me back to the sidewalk of reason that is far more easy to walk than the emotional path.  And I'm far too much of a klutz to take any risky trails.

There are also wonderful men in my life - many family members, and some just good buddies.  It's nice to have a man's perspective, his advice on when the tires look as if they need to be replaced, a little sports talk to keep me current and just a strong arm around my shoulder from time to time.

I do not have less pain at the loss of my husband and son.  It will always be there.  I'm learning to walk with the limp, to clear the path, to manage the pain.  I didn't know if it would ever be possible, and there are still moments that take me to my knees, in prayer and despair at never looking into their eyes or hearing their voices, or getting one of their hugs.  But I have a life to be lived.  I have people to love, experiences to enjoy, stories to tell and fun to be had.

I'm beginning to have some idea about where I want to eventually land, but I need to work a little while longer, so we're just going to let my new chapter unfold.  I'm going to get up, put my best self on, be glad for a new day to experience new things and to remember the precious past.  I will be steadfast in my quest.  God has surprised me, but He has not let me down yet.  Between those who have surrounded me from near and far and the legacies left by those I've loved and lost, I will make this trip.  I will not fall - I will bloom with color and majesty for all that is mine, for all I have been given.  And I will enjoy my Autumn.