a threenager...

a three year old who thinks they are grown and can make adult decisions on their own. have a major attitude problem, are needy but don’t want too much attention and can flip their emotions on you like a switch. that’s me right now at this stage in my grief. I am a bratty, know it all but super needy threenager. I have lived approximately 1,095 days without Tim and sometimes that makes me feel like a super adult when it comes to managing my grief but it can so easily flip without warning and I become a loose emotional cannon on a warpath.

I am not sure where I thought I would be three years from March 2nd 2016. It was way too hard to think that far in advance. If we are being really honest with each other, I am not sure I thought I would even make it this far. My brain was in daily survival mode, not long term planning. At this point in my life I am surprised how small that number feels to me. That number, although large, is so insignificant when it comes to loss . It has put no distance between him and I. He remains so vivid and large in my life. His name flows from my mouth easily, his laugh still echos around inside my head as if he were just in the other room and I often catch glimpses of him in the faces of strangers I pass on the street. He is not a deep faded scar on my skin but rather a story woven into my bones.

This isn’t meant to make you think that I only have great days with butterfly memories of Tim because that is really far from the truth. I feel so sad so often when I think of Tim. I miss him more than I have ever thought someone could possibly miss another human being. I miss Tim so much that it’s not even just a feeling anymore, it’s become part of my senses. Sight, smell, hearing, taste, touch and missing Tim. But what is different at three years is that I feel more ok with being not ok at times. Some days I feel like I should be further along than I am. I feel a bit stuck in time, but I know that I’m not. That it is just a marker of time, but not the end of it. Sometimes I feel like I am not being a good enough widow. On the days where the cold hand of sadness doesn’t reach for me, I think damn am I doing this right? Tim is still gone but I didn’t feel sad today. Those feelings used to make me feel like something might be wrong with me, like my sad wasn’t the right kind of sad. But now, at the ripe age of widow three I know that I am right where I am suppose to be and that I can’t feel any other way other than how I do. I know that the shitty feelings will pass and I know that the good ones will too and that’s just how it is. I think back when I was an infant widow and the suffocating sadness I felt when I thought about Tim and our life lost together. It was overwhelming and it was scary to think that I was going to feel that way forever. I was constantly seeking reassurance from other widows that it wouldn’t always feel this big. It’s unimaginable to think that it will feel any other way when you are right in the thick of it. So any other widows/ers reading this or for anyone else whose just really going through it right now, I know that it’s hard to see the forest for the trees and I won’t tell you that it gets better or easier because it doesn’t. But it does change. It becomes different, you become different and you make some room for it in your life instead of it being your life.