I am approaching the point in which I will have been a widow longer than I was a wife. It’s an odd feeling. A widow longer than I was a wife. I can’t quite wrap my head around that one. You would think there would be some release in that thought-that in knowing I have now been alone longer than I was married to Kevin, that I can keep moving forward, but instead it stops me. Has that much time passed?
Summer is going so quickly, and life is moving away from the ache even more quickly. I still have moments, times, shadows in the day that block out the sunlight from getting through to me. I reflect upon my life with Kevin, what future I want without him, and the things I am trying to do to keep his legacy going, and to help others. All are keeping me so busy that I forget to just think back on the good days.
This time two years ago Kevin was having trouble swallowing, and we thought it was bad heartburn. We had no clue he had a cowboy boot-shaped tumor growing in his chest, slowly killing him. When I think about his vibrancy slipping from this earth, it nearly kills me. I’m just glad that his light was strong enough to shine on me, and to keep me glowing for the time we had together.
Passing some milestones, ones that I’d rather not have etched in my memory, but nonethless ones that affect me deeply. The time markers are getting further apart, and although there is some relief, it also stirs in me a great distanced feeling from him. Some days it’s so hard to remember the good.
I want to remember the good-the good of the past, and the good of today.
Hoping the light of the longest day of the year shines through to me, and to you.