Today, what would have been Chris' 35th birthday, I woke up at 4:45 a.m. to a text from a friend, more or less warning me about a post of my Facebook page...yes Facebook.
Today, as I read scathing remarks from this person I came to the point where I wondered who really is in a position to judge my life, my decisions, my path. In the end I stand by every decision I have made and the path I have chosen for myself as well as my children.
The question remains, how does one disregard the judgment of another? I am at a loss to understand when this became about anyone else but Chris and those close to him.
I'm tired. Tired of feeling judged, feeling like so many need to voice their opinion about my life let alone the picture I post on my facebook page.
I'm shocked that the path of grief must become to guarded. It's hard to know whom to trust. Chris' death left an enormous gap of uncertainty and insecurity. So why would anyone exacerbate this and offer up a cruel and judgmental opinion to a situation that is not even impacting them.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Friday, August 5, 2011
Back in Time
There are moments where the smallest things momentarily propel me back in time. It happens quite rarely but yesterday the hole in my heart was quite apparent.
My kids were ushered away by my dad and I washed the carpet in the living room and on the stairs after which I stopped for a break and I glanced at my email and scrolled through Facebook on my phone. That's when it happened.
A Facebook post.
I was reminded in that post about the confirmation I was always expecting from Chris. Of course, immediately after his death I spent weeks agonizing about the fact that I didn't sense he was dying only 15 feet from where I sat with the kids watching cartoons. I felt like, he being my spouse, I should be 'allowed' some sort of confirmation of the other side, of his peace, of his passage. Almost 9 months out. Nothing. Of course most of you know I stopped expecting anything about 6 months ago.
I was also reminded by this post that my life is great. I am smiling, laughing and that fog from the initial phase of grief lifted long ago. Taking this post to heart, I have to say I know Chris is at peace with my life and with the path I have chosen for myself and our kids. I know he is because the man in my life is so patient, loving, playful, and silly with not only me but with Maya and Owen as well.
Of course, I spent the past 24 hours thinking about this post then got on just now only to glance at one of the widow blogs as I signed in to find a judgmental post about dating in the first year. The writer described herself as feeling ticked off when others got into relationship and 'ran to the alter'. What also surprised me was the response which indicated the writer feeling that every new widow who gets into a relationship will wake from the fog to find themselves with the wrong person and in the wrong place.
I know that not everyone was or is ready to see me in a relationship and that widows have their own sense of what the journey should look like. Honestly, when I met Shaun I wasn't sure I was ready to see myself in a relationship either. It was more of an experiment. Now, it's my life and my love. Two months into this relationship it is still new and we are still figuring out our rhythm with three kids, two dogs, rotating days with one child, work and activities. But the hiccups are few and the love is amazing.
My life events and experiences have lead me to this point, to this love, to this new life. I am amazed by Shaun's comfort with my widowhood, with the space in my heart which will always miss Chris, with my guilt that my children will not know the father who loved them so fiercely. I am amazed and comforted that he gives me space for these feelings, has no sense of animosity toward my situation and supports my need to keep Chris' spirit and memory alive. Our lives lead us to one another, I have no doubt about that fact.
My kids were ushered away by my dad and I washed the carpet in the living room and on the stairs after which I stopped for a break and I glanced at my email and scrolled through Facebook on my phone. That's when it happened.
A Facebook post.
I was reminded in that post about the confirmation I was always expecting from Chris. Of course, immediately after his death I spent weeks agonizing about the fact that I didn't sense he was dying only 15 feet from where I sat with the kids watching cartoons. I felt like, he being my spouse, I should be 'allowed' some sort of confirmation of the other side, of his peace, of his passage. Almost 9 months out. Nothing. Of course most of you know I stopped expecting anything about 6 months ago.
I was also reminded by this post that my life is great. I am smiling, laughing and that fog from the initial phase of grief lifted long ago. Taking this post to heart, I have to say I know Chris is at peace with my life and with the path I have chosen for myself and our kids. I know he is because the man in my life is so patient, loving, playful, and silly with not only me but with Maya and Owen as well.
Of course, I spent the past 24 hours thinking about this post then got on just now only to glance at one of the widow blogs as I signed in to find a judgmental post about dating in the first year. The writer described herself as feeling ticked off when others got into relationship and 'ran to the alter'. What also surprised me was the response which indicated the writer feeling that every new widow who gets into a relationship will wake from the fog to find themselves with the wrong person and in the wrong place.
I know that not everyone was or is ready to see me in a relationship and that widows have their own sense of what the journey should look like. Honestly, when I met Shaun I wasn't sure I was ready to see myself in a relationship either. It was more of an experiment. Now, it's my life and my love. Two months into this relationship it is still new and we are still figuring out our rhythm with three kids, two dogs, rotating days with one child, work and activities. But the hiccups are few and the love is amazing.
My life events and experiences have lead me to this point, to this love, to this new life. I am amazed by Shaun's comfort with my widowhood, with the space in my heart which will always miss Chris, with my guilt that my children will not know the father who loved them so fiercely. I am amazed and comforted that he gives me space for these feelings, has no sense of animosity toward my situation and supports my need to keep Chris' spirit and memory alive. Our lives lead us to one another, I have no doubt about that fact.
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