An Explanation

In answer to one posting, I am still very sensitive to a lot of things. Daily occurrences correspond with things that should be insignificant to anyone/everyone. But to this widow, they can be hurtful, full of memories (good or bad) and just triggers. Wheel of Fortune turned into a trigger a couple days ago--first the puzzle "they" designed that was a direct response to my questions of life in general right now, but also to when Adam and I attempted to try out for the show. We must not have been wearing bright enough colored shirts when the casting people went through our group. Sigh. Yes. Just thinking about it makes me want to misdirect my anger and call them jerks again. I'm sure they really aren't jerks, nor do they have any idea how some of their puzzles make random people like me contemplate life. I'll bet they don't think they had that power!

Sundays. I am trying to figure out how to like them again. Not love them. Not sure that THAT will ever happen again. And not tolerate them either. I want to like them. But they are just so darn hard. I definitely think they are the worst day of the week. They are the one day a week that I generally didn't have to fly out of bed to get the kids ready. Adam and I could hang out and have pillow talk. We could send the kids off to play. Lock them out of our room for a short while. We enjoyed Sundays together. And I think going to church and seeing everyone that gets to have those Sundays as a couple, well, it's difficult to stomach. The memories are simply too raw. Still. Which brings me to my next problem....

I'm grateful for my kids. As difficult as they are, I love them and they are my only reason to get up right now. It is my prayer that by the time they are old enough to leave my house that I will have strengthened myself such that I will have new reasons to want to get up daily.

Here's the BUT. But, I am really missing adult conversation--husband/wife conversation. I miss having Adam to joke with, make plans with, discuss with, argue with, dream with, love. The little boys can't ever take that spot--nor should they. I start to question my sanity many days, wondering if I am capable of adult interaction and discussion since all I do 24/7 is talk to children. Truly. My friends are great, but I question my interaction with them. And if I question my communication with females, I REALLY question my communication with males. And I guess it makes me wonder if I'm capable of ever having another relationship. I don't know. I mean, my life right now is my kids. Only Adam would appreciate their goofyisms, and what else do I have to talk about in my daily life? I don't know. I suppose I feel like if I am objectively looking at me--as an outsider--I'm quite dull! Yeah, I like lots of things, have lots of interests and talents that I would like to improve upon, but can I carry on conversation that isn't all that boring? Questionable.

I have a good friend who is an alcoholic. I have known her since the beginning of her sobriety. She identifies herself as an alcoholic. Alcoholism defines who she is. Every day is a challenge for her to stay sober and every day she has to work very hard. It will be this way for the rest of her life. I'm sure at times people (I've been guilty of this) have thought or even said to her that she doesn't have to talk about her alcoholism ALL the time--because she does. We used to talk about who she is, that when I look at her I don't think of her as 'the alcoholic' but as my friend. I see her as my friend first, and the alcoholism isn't something I see unless she wants me to. But she views herself and her addiction in a different light. She defines herself differently than others--even good friends--do.

So I guess I'm pretty hypocritical. I know in my heart that I don't want to be seen as a 'widow' first. I don't want to be seen as a 'victim.' I know that I hide behind that 'widow' mantra and it bugs me. But I don't know quite how to move past it. How do I think of myself in the correct light--yes, as a child of God with purpose and potential. I think because this very act has robbed me of who I thought I was, it is difficult for me not to almost audibly hear the thoughts of others when I am struggling with my kids ("that poor widow") or for me to mutter similar thoughts to myself. Who are WE? If I asked this to a person, they might list off talents, profession, interests, life experience, wife/motherhood status, age, sex, gender, religious affiliation, political persuasions, and the like. Do those things REALLY define us?

Maybe. Maybe not. For Adam, I get frustrated because not many "really" knew him. Not even those who thought they did. Yes, as a wife, we know our husbands on a different level, we see all the good and bad. So yes, it gets frustrating when people think they know someone, but they have a very one sided picture. I think that has been really difficult. Maybe it is because boiling Adam down to "a doctor" or "a father" or "a husband" or "a friend" IS very trite.

But who was I while married to him and who am I now? Psychologists would probably say that who I am should be independent of anything or anyone else on the planet, that it is only about how I define myself. Ha. That's just my guess on what a psychologist might say, mind you. But I guess that's just it. My very identity has changed. Who I thought I was is not the same. And that changes who I am now. And who I want to become.

Yes, I have similar goals, similar dreams. Many of those dreams are impossible without Adam. Many of those dreams are simply impossible, yet they have not died with Adam. That is with which I struggle most.

My very identity is broken. I am not a wife. I am not a caregiver for the rest of my life. I am not sexy. I am not someone's counselor and companion, not the person someone trusts most. I am not someone's bodyguard, confidant, lover, and best friend. I am not someone's personal chef, laundress, tv watching companion, advocate, devil's advocate, fashion critic, personal shopper, maid, nurse, spiritual advisor. I am not someone's lifelong companion, not the person someone loves most, or someone's one and only. I am not that now.

So what AM I? Today I could list all the things I am by very nature of being a mother and woman. But somehow, IT ISN'T ENOUGH. I have been told that grieving completely is accepting all of the losses involved. Today I am starting to think that is impossible. I guess maybe I just have tunnel vision. But I don't want to. I want to be "done" with certain trains of thought, certain aspects of my grief. I want to move forward. I feel very much like I take two steps forward and then three steps back. I hate that.

So for today I'm a widow. I will hide behind that for now. But I hope to emerge from that. And soon. I'm tired of being a widow.