Year Two

I get it now. Widows(ers) always say how the second year is worse than the first year. I've always felt like, "Nah, that CAN'T be possible!" But in not quite two weeks into this year two, I get it. Yes. I can tell it is going to be worse. I can see very clearly how rock bottom can be much lower than I ever imagined.

After the first year is over, all the "firsts" have pretty much happened--I think there really is something to adrenaline and the survival mode mentality that gets a young widow with kids through year one. But then it is sort of like, "OK. NOW WHAT?!" It's like, yes, I somehow made it through last year. But there still is no rainbow at the end of that horrible year. It still all just stinks. And it always will.

I think the mundane daily tasks are just getting old--maybe that is why people fall into the depression stage of grief. There is no solution to make things better. There is no bright light to look forward to. I still don't get to look forward to my future with Adam, all the plans we had made. Our lives were intertwined and I still feel like half a person, with no other half in sight to make up the difference. I get it. Year two will be worse because the true depth that no one else can fathom is what is felt for a widow. That loss and that depth is only felt so deeply by a widow. It is a very lonely feeling.

Year two will stink.

I can't imagine how subsequent years will go either. Ugh. I can't even imagine.

The boys went on and on yesterday while we were running errands about their "new dad." It was such a surreal conversation to listen to. I was listening to their hopes and dreams for having a dad. They brought this topic up on their own and I sat there in the driver's seat and I felt like I shouldn't be listening, as though I was eavesdropping. I had to stop them short and explain the dating process. I had to explain that it takes a lot of work to find two people who match, who believe the same things, who grow to love each other, who are attracted to each other. I explained how much Adam and I worked at our marriage and how it isn't just as simple as my getting married so they have a dad. I explained dating, explained that they notice how I am not dating. It was surreal and made me sort of laugh in my head at how absurd our conversation was! I mean, with a three year old and a nine year old, to explain the workings of dating and subsequent marriage! Insanity! I don't know. I still don't exactly know what I want, because I don't know exactly what Adam would want. No easy answer.

With the limited understanding that my brain can understand, I'm well aware that while I told Adam that I would've wanted him to remarry if I had died because I would've wanted someone to care for him and for him not to be alone....now knowing what this is like and really understanding the fuller picture, I don't know. Yes, I'd still want those things for him, yet no wife can imagine or condone in her right mind having her husband ACTUALLY married to someone else. It is completely illogical. Completely.

I've met many widows and widowers who date and some who remarry. It is a different set of life experience that widows bring to the game of dating--specifically that we wholeheartedly love our dead spouse and don't want them erased from our lives. Ultimately, while all the kids are in the home, keeping the children and their lives intact is what is most important to a widow(er). Period. Yet, from a long term perspective, making sure that I am also happy is important. I don't want to live out the other 2/3 of my life miserable. Or a cranky, crabby, grumpy ol' widow.

So this leads to the problem. Every single person suffers these dilemmas. HOW to go about finding someone suitable to date. There are essentially 3 categories of people: there are those who have never married, those who are divorced, and those who are widowed. Having talked to many widows, I would make a very blanket generalization that widowed people who want to remarry, generally want to remarry widowed people. This is difficult for the young widow, purely statistically speaking--the numbers of us are smaller, so finding such a person is difficult. Couple that with desiring to remarry someone from my church who is widowed, that makes the numbers even smaller.

I guess it is about motivation--what do I want and WHY. While those answers require a long dissertation on their own, the bottom line is companionship, among other reasons. I don't think it is good for men or women to be alone. Nor do I want to wrap myself up in my children so that when they are older they are afraid to live their own lives--I don't want them to be too attached to me that they won't be able to move forward and find their spouses when the time comes. I don't want them thinking, "Oh, my poor, lonely, widowed mother who needs someone to care for her." We each need a life, and a good one. I want my boys to have good lives. But I want one too.

So then there's the issue of where/how to find someone to date. This is not unique to widows, but to single people alike. Online dating. I am highly opposed to it. I know too many sad stories to tell me that is not for me. Too many liars in the world, which is unfortunate. So. I don't know.

Justin talks about us moving to Utah. While a beautiful place, I've always sworn I would never live there. Ever. It's amazing how quickly nothing is off the table anymore. Argh.

I'm grateful for supportive friends. I love them all dearly. Unfortunately, no one can replace or completely fill the void of Adam. They so lovingly try (and do to an extent) to ease my burdens, but I can't erase Adam from my mind. I miss him every second of every day. Unlike most things in life that we can fix or get to find a solution, there isn't an easy answer for this. There is no "good" solution.

Ok. So there's today's whiny rant. Yep. Just trying to survive, one day at a time. Wish I could speed life up a bit. Just by 60 years or so. Anyone have a grandparent who wants to trade places with me? I'd much rather be on that end of life right now.