Surviving, Not Thriving

I think as time goes on, grief gets harder. In the beginning stages, it almost feels like the person you lost is on a vacation; like they’ll be away for a few months, but they will be back.

I think the hardest part is when you suddenly wake up from this false fantasy, and grasp on to your new, harsh reality. Yes, I can it a fantasy. Because when you lose the person you love most, the only thing you want to imagine is that they will be back. The reality is, that person is gone. They aren’t returning from a trip. They aren’t going to walk in the door any minute. You won’t ever hear their voice again. You won’t see their face again.

As you can guess, I am now in this stage. I realize Caleb is not coming back. I realize I will never get to hold him again, never kiss him again. I realize we will never have a family together. I realize there will be no more memories to make. I realize I am a widow.

You look at other peoples stories and you think to yourself, “oh, how sad, poor them.” You never think it’s going to be you. I never thought I would be a widow at the tender age of 24. I was just beginning my new life. I was a happily married woman to the man of my absolute dreams. Nothing could have gotten better. I realize how cruel this is. I realize how hurt my heart is. I realize how angry, frustrated and confused I am. I realize how unfair the world can be.

At this point, I also realize how important it is to put one foot in front of the other. I may not be doing much these days, but I am getting from one moment to the next. I am not thriving, I am surviving. And sometimes, that’s all you can ask of someone.