I’m tired. I’m sort of broken. It’s New Year’s Eve and my young daughter is asleep in my bed. I am a widow. I am a mother. I am so many things that hurt.
I am 32 years old… and I have been a widow now for longer than I was a wife. In the time that I was married, though, I lived more than I have lived outside of my married years (which were less than three). I got married to my best friend and the man I would have laid my life down for. I gave him my left kidney. And if I could give him my right, I would. He gave me a daughter who has given me reason and purpose… she is my everything. In those (almost) three years of marriage, we had it all.
We have just entered 2018 and here is my new years resolution: to be happy for the life I live. I have been grateful for my life since I lost my husband. Everything he left me with is more than I would have ever had if I had not met him. But I want more than gratitude. I want to look at the sum of my life and be happy that I am me. I want to look at myself and think “Yes! That is the life a person would want”.
But I am a widow. That is not the life a person would want. That is the life a person gets stuck with when life’s plans fail.
So here I am on New Year’s Eve. Living a failed life. But it’s not a failed life. My daughter is my gift. He gave her to me about a year before he died. He helped me raise her in the hardest times. I think he stayed long enough to make sure that I learned that I could do this on my own. I think he stayed long enough to make sure she would have a safe and secure home. I think he stayed long enough to make sure that I knew that I would always have the support that I need. And I do, I have that.
Tonight is a difficult night. Tonight has been an angry night for me twice over. I learned of an old college friend who has just had twins a few weeks ago. The decent person in me says good for her. Hip Hip Hooray. But the faulty human in me says “fuck you!”. I’ve also learned another friend of mine is pregnant. Again. I found out she was pregnant with her first child after my husband died. Now she’s pregnant with her third. I love her and I want her to be so happy. And I want all the best for this child. But I can’t help but feel a huge “FUCK YOU!” come over me.
I am grateful to have my daughter. She is a wonderful little girl. She’s about to turn 4 this month! But I wanted more. I wanted a whole litter of children. I got one. I wouldn’t give her up to save the world… she is my angel. But I’m angry.
I just hit this milestone. At 32 I have been a widow for longer than I was a wife. This isn’t OK. It isn’t right. But it is what it is. Look at what I have… I have an angel. I have an angel who believes her daddy creates the sunsets and fixes and returns lost/broken toys. I have a sweet little girl who believes her daddy does things that mortal daddies can’t do. And she believes these things because she has never known her own daddy. She was 13 months old when he left us.
I am heartbroken this winter season. But I still talk to the moon. I still look at my daughter in awe and disbelief because her belief in her daddy never ceases to amaze me. I still love my husband the way a wife should. He is mine and I am his. This is the way it is. This is the way it should be.
Here’s to the end of 2017 and May the new year bring new peace and love into the lives of those who need it. Happy New Year.