I'm sitting alone in my living room in my recliner as I have often in the past nine months. I'm not overly sad or tremendously happy either. My prayers are no longer for survival of self, but for those around me suffering or in trouble. I'm no longer so self absorbed or devastated by my husband's death that I can't function. I still have bad days, hours and moments, but nothing compared to the previous nine months.
I met a friend in the grocery store today. She lost her husband of 54 years just two months ago. She told me just what I expected when I asked how she was doing, "I have good days and bad days". No surprise. She also told me how lost and out of place she felt without her husband on her arm.
When we first met she was gracious and told me she had heard of my husband's passing. She was compassionate as only another widow can be.
I have had joyful moments recently and I want to live and minister again. I know I'm healing and growing stronger every day. Not sure why I'm writing this, but documenting the stages of my widowhood is cathartic. I also never know who I might be helping by doing so. I know how helpful it was for me to see others experiencing similar insanities during the early stages of their widowhood.
Looking forward to big things on the horizon.
- love never fails.
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