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!

It's OK to be Depressed:( Sometimes

During the first few years of my widowhood, when I was working through my grief, I'd occasionally have to tackle the monster of "DEPRESSION". Of course the most obvious times were around holidays, special days of birthdays and anniversaries, and lifetime milestones of dance recitals, proms, and graduations. Then there were the longer episodes of depression when I was tired of doing it all alone. Times when everything seemed dark and I didn't want to be happy.

If the depression was caused by the anticipation of a special "day" or holiday, I could usually pull myself out of my slump once the occasion was over. Or, I'd be depressed to a certain degree when Friday and the weekend came but then relieved on Monday morning. My problem with depression was when the circumstances were constant. When every day I had to be mother, father, nurturer, and disciplinarian, etc. It was usually when I couldn't find relief that I'd slip into a depressed state.

I don't think depression is all that bad. I believe it's a healthy part of grieving. I'm not talking about clinical depression that requires medication. I'm talking about depression that you can shake off in a couple weeks. There were a few times I felt myself going down. I'd get stuck in a rut of some sort and just want to wallow in my sadness. I didn't want to be happy and I didn't want to be around happy people!

As I sank into my depression, I had enough sense to know what was happening. I knew it wasn't a good thing to become stuck in this stage. I knew somehow I'd have to pull myself out. Common sense told me, "get enough sleep", "eat well", "exercise" and "pray". This wasn't all, but it was a start. The key is finding out what works for each of us to break the force. For me, I had to change my routine. I would usually take a trip to visit friends or family that would make me feel happy again.

There are different degrees of depression. I've always been fortunate to pull myself out before it reached a danger zone. I believe a certain amount of depression is healthy now and then. It's part of a range of emotions that God created within us. Perhaps there are good reasons we are meant to temporarily go through the valleys. During these times we feel alone and have no one but God to call upon. 

So do we call upon God to help us through our depression? Or do we call upon a drug, a drink, or a person? From my experience, I'd call upon God to guide me out of my despair. I leaned on him and trusted him that he'd pull me through. He may have nudged me to take a trip or visit a friend. Of course He knew better than I did what it would take to pull me out of my darkness and back into the light.

My Grief Journey: 2 Steps Forward...1 Step Back

A half a year had passed. This was a big marker in becoming a widow. But my life still seemed confusing and off balance. As I moved forward to find some sense of direction, without warning, I'd collapse in despair. Perhaps a memory was triggered from hearing a familiar song. This could cause me to instantly fall apart. Then sometimes I didn't care to move on and I just wanted to wallow in memories of my husband. I never knew if I was going to go forward or backward each day.

Since my life took a new direction, I had to reprioritize it. Every morning I read from Our Daily Bread devotional and then prayed in surrendering to God's will to feel peace in my soul. This was easier than to struggle with doing it my way. After all, my dreams were shattered six months ago. Now, all I could do was handle one day at a time. God's peace helped me along in a forward direction.

As I moved forward, I tried my best to also help my daughters. My oldest daughter enrolled in a gymnastics class that she liked to do. My youngest daughter was picked from her dance class for a competition group. Even though this required additional time and money, they deserved this happiness. I wanted them to pursue their dreams, and one day maybe I could rejoin life with new goals, too.

Since I had been a professional hairdresser, my friend Trish came over one day so I could do her hair. As I started, a Kenny G. song played on the radio. What freaked me out a week prior with a panic attack, this time I was totally at ease. I told Trish about the anxiety attack at Bonco. One story led to others from my grief adventures. "You should journal all your tales as a widow," Trish said. "You'll want to remember these experiences." The idea to write a book seemed challenging.

I felt like I was moving forward at a good pace when I thought about where I'd been compared to where I was now. But we should never become too confident. Because within a few moments or thoughts, we can be down on our knees in tears. We can be in so much despair and sadness that it sets us back. And as we take that step back, we want to stay there for security. It feels a little safer when we know what to expect then to keep going forward into the unknown.

I think if we continue to have a few good days in a week, it's ok to wallow a couple days in sadness and gloom. It's healthy to have productive days of moving forward in grief as well as having a few days of back sliding into a familiar place of sadness and depression. As long as we don't get stuck in our depression, we can continue to praise God for His help in moving us forward. Kind of like a few days of sunshine, after a couple days of rain. Any other analogies?