43Y3M5D
Everything has a beginning and an end. There are always endings. Some are longed for, planned for, and eagerly awaited, and then there are the ones that are out of your control, totally unexpected, unwanted, and desperate to be avoided.
My life changed when I was a senior in high school and out with my brothers’ friends and a car drove up with this tall, curly hair, beautiful blue-eyed young man leaning over from the passenger seat to say hi to the guy friends I was with. That was just a few weeks before I graduated and by the end of summer we were engaged, a year later married and a year and 2 days later parents to our first child.
Yes, things happened fast with us. Too fast.
in 2021, a work opportunity came and I was delighted to move back to the area where we grew up. He had been wanting to retire (early) due to medical issues and now my new position would allow that to happen. Several months after I moved, he retired and came to be with me. We were looking forward to getting to know each other again after too long apart by work and Covid. Our plan was to take 6 months or so to look around and see what we wanted to do.
Then it happened.
Just hours after he left me at the airport for my work trip, I received a call. It was the kind of call you’re never ready for, and it delivered devastating news. A voice on the other end identified as a police detective informed me that 911 had been summoned to our apartment. They had to breach the door because the chain lock was engaged, and unfortunately, my husband was discovered unresponsive. Despite their efforts, they were unable to revive him.
Pardon me? Unable to what? The chain was on? He’s “gone”????
So here I am today, an individual after decades of being part of a “we.” It’s a new experience for me, one I’ve never encountered before. Now, I must navigate decision-making, formulate plans, and consider what lies ahead for myself.
In this solo journey, the companionship I once had is replaced by conversations with guinea pigs, but there’s no soothing voice in moments of uncertainty. There’s no one to reassure me with words like “there are always alternatives” or to respond with a casual “okey dokey pokey” to almost everything.
It has been 1Y 10M 6D since he passed. Since I went from a “we” and became a “me”.
The journey has been marked by fear, true moments of sheer fright, and occasional paralysis. However, as the months unfold, a shift occured, bringing small glimpses of positive thoughts—dreams that had long been set aside due to various constraints. I find myself in a dreamlike state as I contemplate what the future holds on a personal level. While there are still moments of fear and paralysis, there’s also an emerging sense of excitement and possibility.
In the first year, grappling with the reality that he’s no longer here, or as my mind likes to think…in Williamsburg, remained, albeit smaller, a challenge for me. It was only when I gazed upon his urn that the truth sunk in. The sight of his driving cap, glasses, and keys neatly arranged on the nightstand, or the last unopened bottle of Dr. Pepper he purchased, or the untouched side of the bed where he spent over 43 years, becomes a poignant reminder of his absence, a space where I used to hear the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat every night.
Yes, life changes.
Through this experience, and with time, I’ve discovered an inner strength that propels me forward. I’ve cultivated self-reliance, realizing that loneliness need not be my constant companion. Despite considering myself someone content with independence, I’ve come to miss the warmth of companionship, the joy of conversation, and the shared experiences that come from connecting with another.
With hope as my guide, I embark on the journey into my new reality with a spirit of openness and wonder, akin to a child exploring the world. I place my trust in the unfolding process, carrying it with me in my heart. Change has swept through my life, and I, too, have undergone transformation. I hold onto the belief that my passion for family history, my research and writing will reignite. And the haze of uncertainty surrounding me will dissipate with the passage of time, as healing continues to mend my heart.
It is ok to embrace being me.
HONORED GENERATIONS 