A Year Gone By

I don't know why, but I felt like it was a big accomplishment to make it through the first year of widowhood. I wanted to scream, "I made it!" (Whatever that meant.) It was a milestone. It was one full year of living through every holiday, birthday, anniversary, and season without my loved one. It had to be the worst year ever. And it was finally over.

With a sigh of relief, the time seemed right to clean out the rest of Nelson's possessions. Whatever I couldn't keep, I gave to family or friends. This was done of course on my good days. I moved in life as though in waves. Sometimes I'd forge ahead a little happier with energy, and then just as quickly, get drawn back into sadness and knocked down in despair.

During this time, I recognized my friends' compassion, who knew our situation, and how much of a difference this made on our family. A few months ago, what seemed like a good idea to move out of state, I realized it had been a terrible idea. "Thank you, God, that I listened to my friends who told me not to do anything for a year." Now, I couldn't imagine life without our friends' love and support.

I began accepting more social invitations. I noticed that the more outgoing I became, the more sociable people were towards me. As my self-confidence grew, it became easier to fight my negative feelings. And those depressed feelings were sometimes right around the corner. At times I had control over my emotions and at other times I'd lose control and feel like he just died the other day.

One of the hardest situations I still had to face, was attending my children's school functions. I proudly watched as they participated in the end of the year talent show to show off their dance and gymnastic abilities. I was on cloud nine watching them but once it ended my mood sank as I watched the other dads applaud. Knowing that my daughters will never experience their father's approval again, how sad is that?!!

So I began giving myself the "Blessing Lecture" every time I felt like I was going down. God blessed us with a certain amount of years with Nelson. When Nelson was on this earth, he filled us with more love than some people hardly find in a life time. We had wonderful memories of him as a husband and father. This helped me to pick myself up, brush off my tears, and saddle back into living life. Living life with amazing daughters, a wonderful family, and irreplaceable friends!

Panic Attack!!

I never quite understood what people meant when they said they had a panic attack. I remember thinking, "Oh, it's all made up in your head. You can control it". I imagined an anxiousness and fear, but had no idea how debilitating it could be until I became a widow and it happened to me!

It actually happened to me on more than one occasion. You can read about another time, once my book is published. I think it's a natural part of the grief process. Many of our emotions are out of our control. It's not something we make up in our heads. Our emotions take over and panic is the only way out!

During my first year of widowhood, I preferred to socialize with my closest friends and family. I didn't want to go to big parties or gatherings. And I really didn't want to meet new friends. The friends I had were my comfort. They understood me and took care of me and my daughters like we were their own.

Before my husband died, I had been part of a monthly social gathering called "Bonco" with 12 other moms. A couple of them were my close friends, but most of them were acquaintances through my children’s school and neighborhood. I had been gone for over 5 months since my husband died and decided it was time to at least finish the last 2 months of my commitment.

"I'm so glad you're back!" Rita embraced me as I entered her home. "Help yourself to coffee and refreshments." I anxiously searched for my close friends, Angela and Carol. Heading into the kitchen, I spotted Angela talking to a mutual friend. "Hey girl!" Angela hugged me. "We're talking about Halloween sneaking up." A lump formed in my throat thinking of the approaching holidays.

"Okay, everyone's here," announced Rita from her living room. "Let's find a table and get started." I found Carol so we sat together. I volunteered to be the scorekeeper so that I'd have something to do and not have to think of something to say. "Let me put some background music on." Rita walked over to the shelf above her stereo. "Where's my Kenny G, Breathless CD?"

NO! My heart beat faster. SHE CAN'T PUT THAT ON! I PLAYED THAT CD EVERY DAY ON THE WAY TO SEE NELSON IN THE HOSPITAL!! I clenched my teeth and my body stiffened. PLEASE! NO! DON'T FIND IT! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'LL DO! I couldn't say a word. The pressure inside my chest, as my heart pounded, felt like it was about to explode.

"Here it is. I found it." Rita nonchalantly put it on. The moment it began, the instrumental sounds affected me like jabs in my chest. An adrenalin rush of anxiety made my pulse race as I started to tremble. I CAN'T THINK! I CAN'T DO THIS! I CAN'T MOVE! I froze. I looked up. Three puzzled faces stared back. HELP ME! SOMEONE! Nothing came out of my mouth. I felt trapped. Like being chased in a dream, and I couldn't scream.

"What's the matter, Cindy?" Carol put her hand over mine. I HAVE TO TELL HER, SOMEHOW! My shaking hands were now noticeable. "This song...please....take it off," I stammered while my body quivered. "I can't...hear it." Rita jumped up and rushed over to remove it. Carol stayed by my side holding my hand. Abruptly the music stopped. "I'm sorry, it reminded me of Nelson." I breathed easier as my heartbeat slowed down.

"How long has it been?" Rita's mom asked me. "Almost six months," I said. "It will get easier," she replied.

A Surprise on my First Cry...Coincidence?

Only a few tears had slipped out during my first month of widowhood. Between the shock, numbness, and God's cocoon of peace I was wrapped in, I kept my explosive emotions buried. As the numbness wore off, I felt a stirring from deep within. I began to feel so much pressure inside, similar to a car's radiator that starts seething, and you must slowly let the cap off to allow the pressure to slowly escape.

My first real cry came on May 13th, the first month anniversary. I still couldn't believe it happened. I sat on the sofa beside my husband's empty recliner. My hands steadied the warm mug on the armrest. Nelson always made our Saturday morning coffee. Now, unbearable sadness clung to me as I smelled the coffee aroma. "Where are you? It's Saturday morning." I hypnotically stared at Nelson's chair.

"Get out of my room!" Jessica, my 7 yr. old, screamed at her sister. "I'll hit you!"

I looked to the ceiling, "The kids are fighting. You're not here to help anymore!"

I ran to my bedroom and threw myself on the bed. My clenched fists pounded the pillows. Tears poured out. "This isn't fair! Nelson, why did you have to die? I love you and miss you so much!" The shock wore off and reality flooded in.

Through tearful eyes I stared at eleven years of family portraits on my bedroom walls. I thrashed on the bed tossing back and forth while sobbing relentlessly. Morning turned into afternoon with no relief. Nicole, my 6 yr. old, walked in late that afternoon and leaned over my bed. "Mommy, can I get you a Tylenol?" Her innocent young face peered into my tearful eyes. "Will that make you feel better?"

Before I could answer, there was a loud crash. Nicole whipped around. A family portrait had fallen off the bedroom wall. I sat up in disbelief. "It's one of our family pictures...the four of us!" Shock, momentarily paralyzed me. Did Nelson make this happen? What were the chances this would happen on the first cry AND the first day I spent grieving in bed? What caused the picture to fall? Was it a coincidence or did Nelson and God hear my cries of anguish? I'd never felt such deep grief.

"Dear Lord, I know Nelson can't come back. I have to let him go. I need your help!"

Whether this was a mere coincidence or a sign from above, it gave me peace and comfort that Nelson was close by. There were many more occurrences in the first few months. I felt it was God's way of helping me to let go. I'd love to hear from others if you have a similar story of coincidence or sign from above to share. It gives me goose bumps when I hear them!