It’s been over 10 months since the passing of my beloved wife, Sally. I look back and find it hard to image that everything I worked for, my home, my way of life and Sally is gone.
For such a long time, it was just me and her. We made some friends on our journeys and when we moved to Vermont and Idaho. But, at the end of the day, it was just us. We never had children as it wasn’t meant to be.
On many occasions, we said it would be her and me forever. That was the promise. Now, I’m forced to try to move forward despite the pain.
I realize that I still have a long way to go with the grief and loss. She was the “love of my life” and I believe that no other woman will love me the way she did. Our connection was special and deep. People would notice how we looked at one another, even when we were in our 50s.
As far as happiness in the future, I can only hope at this stage. I’m going to be 55, but making plans to get my master’s degree and resume teaching, a job that I thoroughly enjoyed. I’m doing the best I can. This was not part of the original plan for the rest of my life.
I think that we live by a set of rules that we create for ourselves or, perhaps, instilled in us by others over time. Regardless, my I have either been blessed of cursed with keeping a “promise.” It’s what I do and a rule I live by. Once I make that promise, no matter how big or small, I will do everything in my power to fulfill it.
For those who read this, I’m certain that most will think that all of this will change in time. However, my “programming,” at least at this point, forces me to honor any promise that is made, including an eternal one I made to Sally. I do remember the wedding vows, “til death do you part,” but that does not overrule the “promise.”
I saw a great blog by “Ten Thousand Days” that, in my opinion, hits the point. I’m moving forward, but not moving on. This situation has become my new normal and I have no choice but to accept this big change. I try to “go with the flow,” but still find myself trying to swim against the current.
Prior to her passing, she told me that it was okay for me to find someone else. I also hear from friends and relatives that she would want me to be happy for the rest of my days. On a logical level, this makes sense, but on an emotional one, that’s another matter. Living the life of solitude is not exactly what I had in mind.
What do you think?