Recognition of Our “New Normal”

         ” You will get better with time”; this is what we have been hearing from many people. It sounded so true. The first year of loss wired my heart and brain to be accustomed to a world without my husband. It allowed me to find a different way to adjust and continue to live productively. It took away some of the shock and unbearable pain that shattered my life. During the first year, we learned of the people who left us immediately after our loss, after we brought my husband’s remains to rest. We also learned of those who gave up on us while we were in the midst of the storm struggling to get out, and we learned to let go of these people that have been holding us back.  We also learned of the people who stood by us, from a distance with random hi’s and hello’s. What is surprising is that most of these people were those we had never met or was just an acquaintance. They are the ones we never hugged, shook hands with, nor looked into their eyes but have touched our souls. We may have lost a lot of support, but we gained more.

        As we continue our journey, we find solace in God through these people. We praise and thank God for them. They are still with us and have not forgotten. We are progressing and slowly moving toward the healing process and believe that year two is easier and indeed better. But does it really get better and easier with time, or just like the first year, we need to come to terms with accepting that our life will not be the same anymore and we are entering into our “new normal.”

     Grief still cripples me; I appear to be strong outside. It takes me bravery every morning when I smile at people when I am actually crying inside. To engage in conversations with others only to regret it in the end. I became less patient and gentle with myself. I burn myself out to work hard. Self-doubt, self-judgment, and expectations kick in without showing it to people. I appear confident, but in reality, I am not. I was not me anymore. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the spelling of my name. I became a stranger in my own life and struggled with my identity.

I am going through the painful process of searching for new dreams, goals, and aspirations in life. It is guessing what I know about myself because I have depended on my husband’s affirmations and denials. Our life was molded together, and I had to re-learn all my likes, fears, and hobbies. It is finding who I am without him.  It is feeling sad even when I am happy and looking back while I move forward. It is fighting every emotion and, at the same time, trying to function in life. Losing him changed the way I see things and priorities in life. This constant ache is transforming me into an entirely different person, and nothing will ever be the way it was before. The level of comfort I have will not happen again, although it may not be as before, even if people think and see that nothing has changed.

       I am left with no choice but to accept our new normal. After 25 years of doing things together, I would have to stand as a mother and father for my children and become their wings. Married people do not understand this, for they still have the person to do that for them. They still have the person to fetch and carry their baggage for them. To check for the vehicle if there are repairs to be done, to have somebody to call when they have a difficult day or good news to tell. For us, the house we lived in together no longer feels like home; we have to leave it for a while untouched because we cannot handle the memories we have with it, and we are left with nowhere to go when vacation time comes.

       Our life will never be the same again, but we will get through it. We are slowly learning how to deal with it. The grieving process is just a transition into our new life; by God’s enabling grace, we were able to go through the “lasts” and “firsts.” The lasts by going and looking back to our memories-letters, photos, and videos and even making videos out of them: the firsts- his birthday, our anniversary, holidays. We will cherish all of it deep within the chambers of our hearts. The pain will always linger. It reminds us of how we are loved, and we are loved back  and how he left this earth. I am prepared to endure, for God has provided me with the resiliency and capability to absorb such enormous pain, and no matter how much time passes, I have God’s confidence that I will be ok, and it will allow my faith to shine through.

     To my darling in heaven, I promise to get out of this storm, to find new meaning and purpose, and to live and continue the legacy you have left behind- in due time, by God’s grace.