Just as I am

Well, 24 more hours, plus 2.

And it will be 9 years as a widow.

So many choices and decisions.

More mistakes and missteps than I can count – or want to remember.

Lessons learned and learnING – what am I on now?

#130409797802125464644, right?

And here I am.

Just as I am.

Still breathing.

Still fighting.

Life is not better.

It is different.

Life is not easier.

It is different.

I am different.

If someone had told me how much difference one person could – and would – make in my life, I would have laughed at them.

The girl I was before Rick.

The woman I was with Rick.

And the widow I am now, without Rick.

RICK was, is, and will forever be my difference.

I remember the girl.

And often shake my head at her.

How ignorant of life she was.

How goofy and crazy she could be.

She was me.

I remember the woman.

Full of confidence and boldness.

Brassy to the hilt.

She knew full well who had her back.

She was strong and brave.

She had a voice to herself, with others.

She was so very blessed.

She was me.

And I know the widow I am.

Vulnerable.

Shaken to the core.

She cries in the night’s darkness, and smiles in the day’s light.

She is alone more than not.

She is much misunderstood.

She is growing her life around the emptiness.

She is me.

There is less I take for granted these days.

A sunrise, a sunset, the singing of the birds, the heat of sunshine, the coolness of rain, a good cup of coffee, the coolness of a cold drink on a hot afternoon, putting my feet up after a long day, the laughter of my children and grandchildren, a hug, a kind word, and a million other moments – treasured, to be held close to my heart and soul.

I am more tolerant – and yet, less, too.

Guess it’s just that my tolerance has shifted.

What used to irritate and annoy me, I find myself laughing at more.

Yet, there are things that I simply cannot tolerate – one being rude behavior, of any kind, by anyone.

The lessons, and the firsts, continue.

Learning to live.

Learning to love.

Learning to laugh.

With less of the survivor’s guilt – or perhaps just learning to live with even that.

Family & friends have gone, have come into my life, and have gone again.

The end of life has claimed many in these years since Rick died.

Hurt feelings, and injured pride, has separated some from me, where we only on rare occasions (if at all) speak.  

Life changes has taken many of us on different tracks and we barely pass one another these days.

The ebb and flow of life.

Every loss is now a pang to the heart.

So many losses in life, and in death.

Even the simple losses – a plant that dies, a cup or glass that gets broken, a treasured memento that is gone.

More than not I think about the old saying about “death by a thousand cuts” – and I wonder how much more this old heart and soul of mine can take.

But still, she breathes – breathes in, breathes out.

Just breathes.

Moments have become clearer, and dearer, than any stuff.

I work hard to focus on what I have, rather than on what I miss.

So much so that by the end of the day I am exhausted and drained.

I laugh at drama these days.

Well, shaking my head and rolling my eyes is a form of laughter, right?

I don’t care one whit about drama – be it political, religious, romantic, or honestly, even family/friend drama.

I keep saying, to myself and out loud, if we would just realize how short life is . . . if we would just be kind and tolerant . . . if we would just make those allowances for one another’s differences – we all handle life differently, we all process emotions differently, we all have different thought patterns, and different experiences as well as different expressions.

There is much I don’t understand about life, and about people.

That list of would take every page in the world to write about!

I know 2 things without question, without a doubt.

1. There IS a GOD.
2. I am not HIM.

Beyond that, I just breathe.