Sometimes we just don’t fit in. Or it’s a tight squeeze that makes you downright uncomfortable.
When he passed away, I lost more than the man I called my husband for 18 years.
We’d built a network of friends, those who were in the same stage of life as us. We all married at roughly the same time. Celebrated wedding anniversaries, new babies and newer homes, job changes, everything.
Our family became part of a larger family. Only the family was so much like us that when I lost him, I lost them too.
I lost the fun times we spent with other couples. I lost the girl talk about our husbands. I lost an entire life we had built on the foundation of shared experience.
It’s a strange feeling to sit silent and alone among a group of married people. It’s difficult to let her know that I’d love to hear about how he just won’t pick his socks already.
Like a puzzle piece that’s lost its shape, I lost a part of me that connected to a larger whole. When I lost the wife status, I lost my community.
I’ve been shoved into a space not built for human habitation. It’s a place I don’t belong. Somewhere I’d rather not be.
But I’m here. Crammed into a lonely life that’s two sizes too small. Edging out everything we enjoyed as a couple, leaving me to carve out a space that is me.
I stepped out this weekend and enjoyed a beautifully scenic hike with remnants of pipes, stone walls, and water diversion materials that than been there for a hundred years.
I felt the slight crunch of the earth beneath my boots. I listened to the bubbling water washing over the rocks. I hopped from rock to rock as I crossed each stream.
I took in the beauty of rushing waterfalls and felt the smooth rock along the trail. I squeezed my new friend, and my soul felt light.
Maybe this life isn’t too small after all. 💙
#laughterafterdeath #lookingintherearviewmirror #wanderingwidow #itsme #lifebeginsnow