It’s been 2 years. 2 years since I lost the love of my life suddenly, violently, and left alone to bear a child just 3 weeks later.
2 years. It so often feels like a lifetime ago. But just as often feels like yesterday.
These days I laugh a lot more. These days I feel joy every day. These days when you see my on the street, you are likely to get a smile. These days I see the hope and love every moment has to offer. These days I live life better than I ever did before.
As I dealt with my grief the past 2 years I have seen myself accomplish many things I never dreamed I could do. Thinking back to this day 2 years ago, I remember feeling as if I could not survive a single second without him. The pain was too great, too raw, too suffocating to see any future. I was simply living through until the next breath.
As I began to watch Cecilia live and learn each day, I so often see comparisons between my new life of widowhood and how she grows and sees the world.
Those first days, the only thing I did on my own was breath. I could not eat without help, I could not sleep alone, I could not even go to the bathroom by myself. The pain of feeling so alone and isolated coupled with the fear of losing anyone else that I love kept me in such a state of panic that I could not suffer any chances.
But slowly, with time, I began to overcome these new challenges. Each step took time and patience. Each trial was met with an onslaught of emotions and mental tribulations. But I did it. Every single day I have made the effort to get out of bed and find one thing that I am thankful for. And that has made all of the difference.
It took my 2 weeks to be alone in a bathroom.
At 6 months, I was able to drive again – after being so petrified that I would become distracted and put myself and others in harm’s way while behind the wheel.
At 7 months, I finally was able to sleep in a room by myself.
When I hit 10 months, I was able to listen to music again.
At 18 months, I not only was listening to music, but I was belting out tunes in my car, an act that once seemed too joyful to ever do again.
22 months, after moving immediately into my parent’s home, I was able to move into my own home.
I still have trouble making decisions. I still get overwhelmed by tasks much easier than I ever did before. I still miss him every day. But I am learning to bear this weight and make this path my own. This IS the life I was given and I will own it. I cannot ask God for another one, for He alone knows my soul, He alone knows what is best for me – although so often I cannot see it myself. I will have trust in Him, for there is no other way.
Today, on this anniversary of Nathan’s death, rather than sit in sorrow, I chose rather to rejoice. To celebrate that 2 years ago today he was received in far greater glory and joy than I could ever imagine. I must pray each and every day that I will be met with similar elation one day. While my human heart will always grieve his loss, I can rejoice in it as well, because I know half of my heart is rejoicing.
Everyone grieves differently. This has been my path and it is what is right for me. It is a long journey that truly never ends. But each day, each step, makes me a stronger, better person. And for that I am thankful.