2025 has been a hard year.
A quiet year writing-wise.
This 13th year,
a mere 25 days from completion,
has had more than its share
of painful moments.
It has been a consistently darker year.
I find myself somewhat surprised.
I mean, come on, the 13th anniversary is just around the corner!
Shouldn't I be in "status quo" by now?
You know, those moments of grief,
but overall, ticking along nicely
without a lot of heartache or tears.
But that's the thing.
In grief, there is no "status quo".
Not even in spousal loss!
Having been an intimate participant in widowhood,
one would think I would know that by now.
However, even I find myself caught up in the social assumption
that widowed grief is really bad at first
but that it is not lasting like that of child or parental loss.
Maybe because that would be so much more convenient.
Part of the issue, I feel certain,
is the scratching open of the wound.
Two cousins have been widowed within the last year
and as I have walked with them through the loss,
and one through the losing,
my own wounds can't help but open,
can't help but become sore, tender.
I "feel" with them.
It is part of what makes me an effective partner in their journeys.
It is also painfully vulnerable.
Perhaps it was knowing that my Al
would have entered a new decade of life this year
had he still been having earthly birthdays.
But he is,
as I have heard mamas say about their children,
"forever 57".
I hadn't thought about that until recently,
"forever" an age works with all death loss
with the "forever" being exponentially more significant
the younger the deceased.
As spouses go, "forever 57" is pretty darn young!
Or at least it feels that way to me!
Maybe it was some health issues
my Lanny Love is experiencing,
the reminder that one of us will do widowhood again,
and the fear that it would be sooner than either of us hope and pray.
Maybe it's because one of our daughters
and her family
have had an exceptionally rough year emotionally.
Maybe it's because our granddaughter got her driver's license this year
and he should have been here to beam proudly
and tease her about not running into the house
as she pulled into our driveway for the first time on her own.
Maybe.........a lot of things.
I want a reason.
But in reality, there probably isn't one.
It simply has been a year of missing more...
wondering more...
actively grieving more...
That, quite simply, is the way of widowhood.
The love doesn't die,
so the grief doesn't either.
I anticipate that 2026 will have its moments.
This is the year we should be celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary.
Is it okay that I feel a twinge of jealousy
when others celebrate theirs?
I imagine this year's birthday will sting
just like all the others have.
I imagine there will be heartaches and celebrations
that he and I should share
just as in all the previous years.
But can I be honest?
I am looking forward to,
praying that,
the consistency of heartache and missing that has been 2025
will once again ebb,
once again become gently lapping waves
instead of the tsunami of emotions
that 2025 brought with it.
