Mommy, remember to pray

As Maya was buckling her seat belt today she said "Mommy, you should remember to pray every day and thank daddy.  He loves you."  I had turned around to start the car already and found myself staring at my keys for a moment by the shift in our conversation.  I turned around to ask her if someone at preschool told her that.  She said "No, Mommy, it's in my own brain."  The conversation went on, but it had me thinking.  I do need to thank Chris.

The conversation lead me to a "where am I at?" moment.  Over the past 13+ months, I've had many moments of self evaluation in a personal attempt to be mindful of my progress and check in with myself about the reality of my situation.

So...where am I?

Perhaps I should back track. November was ugly.  Down right difficult.  I slogged through many days remembering Chris.  I found myself returning to the last days Chris, Maya, Owen and I were a family; to the day of Chris' death and returning to the lingering questions about his death.  I had come so far, made much peace with the changes in my life and felt a compelling need to maintain his memory yet there I was...slogging with the elephant on my chest.  Looking back two months, I was lucky.  I have an amazingly understanding boyfriend and family as well as friends who are supportive and inquisitive about it all, leaving me many avenues to express my thoughts.  In the end, I didn't turn to writing for once.  Instead I talked and internalized (not so much a good option).  Those last days of Chris' life bring lingering doubt and sadness.  I will always wish I had been able to identify the signs of a heart attack or that Chris had been able to.  I will always wonder if some of the odd things I noticed afterward were the signs I missed.  Of course, there will never be conclusions to these thoughts and questions thus really they are things I must continue to work toward letting go of.  

In the aftermath of a year, I realize how far I have come.  I am amazed by the support and caring thoughts which poured into my life via the mail, email, Internet, Facebook, flower shop.  I had more birthday, Valentines and Christmas cards than I had had in years.  Sometimes they were bittersweet, a reminder that others know about my loneliness.  Mostly they were an affirmation that I was not alone and that those who loved us would walk beside us in our journey. 

I learned that I can withstand the solitary days and nights.  I learned that I can ask for support or help when I need it.  I learned that it's okay to show weaknesses and insecurities.  I also learned how much Chris had taught me about living and loving life.  Today I was reminded about this by Lora.  Chris was always looking for a new restaurant to try, a new show to see, a new park to visit.  He always had something on his agenda to try or place to go.  In that he taught me that life is not about what happens to you but how you react to those things, what you choose to seek and how you choose to focus your energies.  Life should never feel mundane as long as you are seeking adventure and happiness.  Don't get me wrong, I have three kids under the age of 5 thus routine is our friend, but we seek out those adventures in our own ways.

I learned from Chris how to be more patient.  I would not say I am patient however, I am more patient than I once was.  Few things ruffled his feathers and when they did, I knew it was pretty bad.  I definitely learned life is not to be wasted irritated about the inconsequential things.

Of course the raging question has been, how was the one year anniversary.  I don't know why but I stuggled to sit down and write about it.  In the weeks leading up to it I was stressed about being in my home, going through a relatively similar routine on the anniversary so instead, I ran away.  Ok, not really but the kids stayed with my parents and I stayed overnight at the Tulalip with Shaun.  It was a relief.  We ate, played a bit and shared a bottle of wine.  The morning of November 17th at 9:30 a.m. I found myself in bed watching the news.  I felt slightly frozen, waiting for the moment to pass like Y2K.  Would something happen?  Would I feel the same?  In retrospect, it was all a little silly.  It really truly was a moment of passing, a moment to remember the last time I saw Chris, to think about the life we had built, to recall the panick of finding him dead as well as a moment to recognize the strides I made this last year to be proactive as opposed to reactive to my life. 


I have told my story more times than I could even count and continue to more often than I would like.  People are curious, I know.  Now I am in a position where I talk about my boyfriend so often that people are beginning to think I'm divorced which is a whole new can of worms.  There are times when I don't want to share my story.  The shocked, pitying looks are enough to dissolve my resolve to move forward on a positive path.  Retelling the story is difficult.  I've told it so many times that it rarely results in the shedding of tears by me but it usually does for those I'm telling and then roles are reversed, I'm assuring them that it's ok, I'm ok, the kids are ok and that sometimes life doesn't head in the direction you wanted but that that is OK too. 


Life is hardly a simple thing to predict.  Shaun and I had a semi-morbid discussion about what would happen if one of us died today...kids, his ex, families.  We discussed who would care and who would move on, merely passing another milestone.  It was funny only in that I reminded Shaun he was preaching to the choir about this.  Life is never exactly what you think it is, I just always hope when it fails to meet my expectations about where I am or where I am headed that I can grasp on to the parts that are still extraordinary, fondly remember the parts that have passed and continue on a positive path even if my destination has changed.  I have been repeatedly reminded that life is about change and that nothing ever stays the same.  Even when you have lost what you envision as your greatness, there is still more in store for you.  At times it's a matter of courage and encouragement. 

These 13 months have been full of surprises both good and bad.  I have learned that some friendships fade while others find their glory in the shade of grief.  I have remembered that I am a self-sufficient, confident and capable woman and mother.  I have recognized that though we travel the path of grief together, it is still an individual journey and we are still each facing it and coming to peace with the events at our own pace and in our own way as well as the fact that it is a life long journey.  I have understood the true meaning of family as my family has changed, morphed and multiplied as well as fallen away. 

Most of all I have understood the meaning of love.  As someone who had not predicted an end to her marriage, I was under the assumption that love is something you find, keep and die with.  My idea had to change immediately because the thought of a solitary life was suffocating.  My new path has lead me to love...and so the journey continues. 

I will never be able to completely shed the label widow, but from it I have learned so much.  Perhaps identifying with it isn't such a bad thing after all.