Monday, August 5, 2013
Bliss is sometimes hard to come by. But...
I know I haven't posted anything new in too long. It wasn't for lack of want but it wasn't possible.
Life has been a jarring roller coaster ride since my last post.
In January 2012, my husband became seriously ill. Despite their efforts, his personal doctors failed to correctly diagnose him. In March 2012, after countless visits to his primary care physicians and three visits to the emergency room (two different hospitals), it was revealed that my beloved had an aggressive and fast-moving lymphoma. By the time it was discovered, it had already spread to his brain and spine.
Thirteen days after the diagnosis, he died.
In between, he had time to receive many calls and visits from friends and family, some of whom traveled hundreds (and thousands) of miles to see him. His last lucid days were spent reminiscing happily with us all.
As difficult as it was to accept that my husband would be leaving me, I loved him enough to accept that he accepted it and to be there for him as I promised: for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, til death.
The remainder of 2012 was hard for my daughter and I. Healing is a continuing process but I am thankful I am no longer the woman I was in those first dark days/weeks/months following my husband's death.
I am thankful for wonderful memories of the years my daughter and I shared with a kind and loving husband and father. He was my best friend. And now he is literally the man of my dreams as he visits me in my dreams quite often.
Although I still cry when I think about how much I miss my sweetie, I don't cry every time and I no longer cry every day. Life moves forward...
It took a lot of love and prayer to help us move through to where we are now. My daughter and I remain thankful to everyone who helped and who continue to help in ways big and small. Despite what I believed before, I have now seen first hand that we do not know who will be there for us when we need until the need occurs.
It was impossible to crochet while my husband was sick. After he died, I wanted to but couldn't. My spirit was at a low ebb and so much more was important and urgent.
Almost nine months later, my creativity reawakened. Slowly but definitely. I know my husband watches with a smile. He was my biggest fan; my loudest cheerleader. In everything I did, he encouraged me to do better and more because he knew I could.
So in gratitude, I return to crochet, write, update, carry on.