Even In Grief, New Life Blossoms

When Jared died, my entire world changed. It doesn't mean that my world can't be good, or that I can't be happy, or have a life filled with joy.  It just means my world has changed. But until you have gone through this kind of loss, you can never understand how that loss truly changes your life.

In many ways I am the same person I was before Jared died but in some ways I have changed. And not everyone likes those changes. And that is ok. But what many do not understand, and cannot understand until you are walking this unimaginable journey, is how much the death of your spouse truly changes your entire world. The day Jared died, the world as I knew it stopped. But for my friends and family their world kept on spinning.  Because they have never walked in my shoes, my friends and family cannot understand just how truly devastating his death was to me. The night of Jared's death i went to bed alone. The morning after Jared's death I woke up all alone. I suddenly had a late husband and was a single mother. For my friends and family, they went to bed snuggled next to their spouses thanking God they didn't know how I felt. They woke up the next morning and their life was as it was the night before.

I used to wonder how does everyone keep on living, acting like nothing is different when my whole world has been shattered.  When Jared died, our friends and family were heartbroken too. But Jared's death did not impact them in the same way it did me. It couldn't. For them his death did not alter their whole world. They were sad and they missed him but their family was still intact. Mine was forever changed.  While they miss him, their daily life was not affected in the same way. Yes, Jared is no longer there to attend their parties.  He is no longer there to hang out with and laugh. He is no longer there to harass their children. But for them seeing Jared was a weekly or monthly occurrence. For me it was every day all day. So there is no way his death could have the same impact on their lives. And it took me awhile to realize that.  And now I understand that as much as they love and miss Jared, his death did not shatter their world the way it shattered mine.

I lost my future. I lost the love of my life. I lost the father of my child. While I continue to live and do my best to create a new normal, there's always a hole in my world.  An empty space that is deeply felt, felt on a daily basis. And while my family and friends miss Jared, they do not feel the same constant loss. And I'm thankful for that for this is not a journey I would wish on my worst enemy.

I used to wonder how does everyone keep on living, acting like nothing is different when my whole world has been shattered. And now I understand that until you've experienced a loss of this magnitude, you truly have no idea what it feels like or the impact it has on your life.  So when I get upset that my friends or family don't understand, I try to remember it's because they can't. They can't even imagine having their world shattered the way mine was. They can't even imagine life without their significant other. They can't imagine the grief of losing their spouse.  So when I am upset, aggravated, or have hurt feelings that my friendships and relationships have changed since Jared died, I need to remember that grief is a process.  It's a process for me and it's a process for them.  And we don't all process grief the same way or at the same time.

And as my new world evolves and I continue to move forward with making a new life, my friendships and relationships will continue to change because I will continue to change.  My loss will shape my future.  The darkness of my grief will help me to chose the colors for my future.  My new life will continue to blossom as I invision what my future will look like.  But that vision can change because that is the beauty of life.  It is ever changing.

What Does It Means When My Wedding Ring Doesn't Fit?

Four weeks ago, I took my wedding rings off so they wouldn't be stolen on my trip.  When I returned home, I immediately went to put my wedding rings back on.  And they would NOT GO ON!

I was devastated. My wedding set would not go past my knuckle. My anniversary band, my last gift from Jared, went on fine.  Slipped right on.  But wedding ring, nope, nada, nothing.  Refused to slide past my knuckle. I wasn't sure what to feel.  What did it mean?  How could my ring fit just a few short weeks ago and now not fit now?  How is that possible? What does it mean?  Is it a sign to move forward?  Am I reading too much into it?

Fast forward to today.  I still cannot wear my wedding ring.  But I no longer feel devastated.  Maybe it's because I am wearing my anniversary band so my finger is not naked. Maybe it's because I have accepted that I can longer wear my ring.  Maybe it's because I have come to realize that my wedding ring is only a symbol but my love will live on forever.

But, in a strange way, I feel extremely guilty that I am no longer devastated. The mind is a funny thing and guilt is a confounding emotion. I feel like I should still be upset that my wedding ring no longer fits on my ring finger on my left hand. And while I would love to still be able to still wear my wedding ring, I am no longer devastated. I am considering having it sized to fit my right hand.

Perhaps this is a sign of healing. Of just how far I have come on my grief journey in two years.  Perhaps it is an indication that my heart has finally accepted that Jared is never coming home and I am truly a widow.  But it has given me cause to reflect. To realize that I am a different person now than I was the day I married my husband. That I am a different person now than I was when he died. That I am a different person now than when I took my wedding rings off for short weeks ago.  I will always love Jared. There will always be a part of my heart and soul that only belongs to him. And I don't need to wear my wedding ring to know that.

Grief - 2 years later

The 2-year anniversary hit me much harder than I expected this year. I don't know what I expected, but I did not expect the raw grief that I felt. Maybe it was so much harder because I was not at home with friends and family who love Jared as much as I do. Or maybe it was just because two years is so very real. The first year I was kind of numb, grateful to have survived that awful first year. But the second year, that's real.  That's when you know he's never coming home yet life must go on. Our anniversary was also extremely difficult this year. I think it's because I was in a foreign country at a business conference and didn't get to actually celebrate our anniversary. Instead I had to attend a gala dinner. I came back from that dinner and went to my room and all I could think of was Jared and how, if he were still here, we would be celebrating our anniversary. And then I cried. And for the first time in a very long time, I actually cried myself to sleep.   

And I know Jared would not want me to be sad. I know he would tell me that I need to live. I know he would be telling me to get out there, take life by the horns, and make it my own. But knowing that, doesn't make me miss him any less. Doesn't make the ache in my heart feel better. I miss him and wish he was here every day. And this may sound crazy, but no matter how much I miss him, I am so thankful that his suffering has ended.   There comes a time and it is such a guilt-ridden moment, when you realize you are no longer praying for a miracle but instead you're praying for their suffering to end. That doesn't mean you want them to die. It doesn't mean you won't miss them everyday.  It doesn't mean that you stop loving them. It doesn't mean your heart won't break at every grief trigger. It just means that your love for them is more than you ever thought possible.   The moment when you realize just how selfless love really is.  I would take a healthy Jared back in a heartbeat. I would give up everything I own, to have that man walk back in the door. But I would never, never want him to have to suffer the way he did his last few weeks on earth.  

Instead I tried to find comfort that he is breathing with the angels. I know for certain that Jared is in heaven, that is something that I have never doubted it.  And it is something that has brought me immense comfort in these last two years. Sometimes I ask myself what is he doing up there? But I guess I won't know until God decides it's my time to join him.  Until that time, I will try to live a very full life. A life I can look back on and be proud of.  And I will teach my child that life is an adventure and that fear of the unknown should not keep you from living.  These last two years have taught me more than I ever wanted to know about grief  but they have also taught me a tremendous amount about strength and resiliency. And life. And love.  

16th Wedding Anniversary

16 years ago we said I do.

I never imagined I would be celebrating our 16th wedding anniversary alone.
No special poems.
No sappy love notes.
No flowers.
Nothing to commemorate our special day.

Instead, I will celebrate our love alone, in a foreign country.

I will never forget the day we vowed to love in  sickness and in health.
A vow we always honored.
Or that vow that has a whole new meaning...until death do us part.

We loved the in sickness and in health.  More than anyone else I know.
But that death do us part, that is a sneaky one.
We honored our vows.
Even after your final breath, I still honored our vows.
But what do I do now?

I miss you, every second of every day.
I will love you till forever.

Thank you for allowing me to be your last love.
That is a privilege I will always treasure.
I pray I can always honor you and our love.

16 years ago today we became husband and wife.
Who knew that 16 years later I would be your widow?
Life can be unexpected and even cruel.
But I will forever grateful for the wedding anniversaries we celebrated.
For all the memories we made.
For all the love we shared.

Happy anniversary Jared.

I will love you till forever.

Taking Off My Wedding Ring

Today, I took off my wedding rings.
Not by choice but by necessity.
And I don't like it.
My hand feels naked.
Like a vital piece is missing.

I knew that the start of year 3 would be the beginning of my self-discovery.  But I didn't plan to take off my wedding set. But my travel to Brazil necessitated that decision.  I was advised to not wear any jewelry I didn't want lost or stolen.  So my wedding ring is safe at home.  And my finger is empty.  My heart is not sure how to feel about that.

Yes, I know it is temporary.  Only 2 weeks.  But it still is an odd feeling.  A rush of emotions I did not expect.  Our 16th wedding anniversary is Friday.  And my hand will be naked as I celebrate our special day in a foreign country.  I knew one day I would take off my wedding set.  Probably move it to my right hand.  But I hadn't planned to do it yet.  Maybe the universe is trying to tell me something.  Maybe my love is trying to give me a gentle push.  Or maybe it's just simply because of my travel plans.

But I know my love is not contingent on a ring.  My heart will always love Jared.  Whether I am wearing his ring or not.  My soul will always be attached to his.  Whether my finger has a ring on it or not.  He will always be a part of my life.  I don't need a ring to prove it. But it sure seems weird for my finger to be empty after all these years.

Today, I took off my wedding rings.
Not by choice but by necessity.
And I don't like it.
My hand feels naked.
I will let you know how I feel in 2 weeks.

Day 731. 2 years today

It has been 2 years today.  731 days.
How is that possible?  So much has changed, yet some things never will.

I will always miss you.
I will always love you.
I will always wish you were here to see Steven's accomplishments.
I will always think of you when something great happens in our life.
I will always think of you when something doesn't go as planned.
You will always be a part of our lives.

2 years ago today at 7:50 pm, I held you in my arms.  Knowing my world was about to change forever and helpless to stop it.  You looked towards the heavens and said “Do you see them Carla?”. I knew the angels had come to take you home.  I kissed you, told you how much I love you, how proud I was of you, promised Steven and I would be OK, and told you to fly home with the angels.  And you did.  You took the deepest breath and you were gone. I know I saw your first heavenly breath.  And though I wish you back every day, I am grateful you are breathing easy with the angels.

So much has changed in these 2 years.  I have less patience but more compassion.  I no longer care about the little things.  I try to not take anyone for granted. I am teaching Steven life's an adventure and should be lived. I am trying to build a new life, one that would make you proud and at the same time find happiness again.

I haven't completely kept my promise, but I'm trying.  When you died, I wanted to die too.  I felt like God should have called us all home together.  But a crazy thing has happened this year, I realized I want to live.  Really live.  And not just because I promised you I would but because I want to.  I want to live.  There is still a lot of life in me.  Still so much for me to see and do.  A whole world to explore. So many adventures to take.

My life will never be the same.  The Carla I was with you died with you.  This is a new Carla.  A work in progress.  But I can do this, rebuild my life, discover who I am now because of you.  Because of the love we shared.  Because of the strength you gave me.  You were one of the strongest people I have ever known.  You never let your disease stop you.  Never used it as an excuse.  I draw on your strength and love each day.  And because of the life God gave us together, I can slowly begin to build this new life. Thank you for loving me Jared.  Your love is my strength.

I miss you every day.  Everyday something  happens and I think I wish Jared was here. But I know you are watching over us, sending me signs when I need them most.  And I'm certain sometimes you shake your head in disbelief at what I'm doing but I also know there are times you say that's my pretty lady, I never doubted you for a minute.  I miss you Lovebug. Every single day.

2 years today.
731 days.
Forever and yesterday…

Year 2 day 7 of 7

Day 7 of 7

On Jared's angelversary eve, I will choose to remember happy times.  Days full of laughter.  His sarcastic sense of humor.  The way Jared would so casually suggest children do something Jared thought was hilarious but would be sure to annoy their parents.  Like the time he decided it would be great fun to put the neighborhood kids in Steven's inflatable ball pit and float them across our pond.  Or show them how to car surf.  Or borrow their ripstick and take off around the block.   And when he decided our 5 year old son should have a motorcycle.

At a party, Jared would always start off quiet and subdued but oh boy, once he loosened up, look out.  One New Year's he brought a pistol full of tequila to the party.  Or the birthday party where he went down the waterslide without spilling his beer.  And our wedding reception where he rode around on his friend's shoulders.  

Jared could be very spontaneous and I have so many fond memories of his “let's see what we feel like doing” attitude.  In France, he suddenly decided I needed to learn to drive a manual and preceded to teach me. In Vermont, he decided we should canoe across the reserve.  In Canada, he raced Steven down the mountain on these snow motorcycle things (I can't remember what they were really called) and wiped out at the end.  In Belize, the first time we went ziplining and he yelled “oh shit” as he repelled down.  

Jared was the yin to my yang.  He was quiet but once he knew you, all bets were off.  I miss hearing his laugh.  His laugh was so unique, just like him.  Oh how I wish I had a recording of his laugh.  So today, I will focus on the good.  The happy.  The mischievous.  The man who loved me until his last breath.  The man I will love forever.  The man who I miss everyday.  The man whose wit could light up a room.