One year

For some strange reason, the year mark has been like a goal for me. I don’t get it. It’s not like something would be different once I’ve gone through 365 days. It’s not like things would change or he’d come back or this would be over. But all the same, I’ve been looking ahead to this day for a long time. Both with excitement and nervousness.

“Just get though the day. Just get through the month. Just get through December (December was a month from H-E-L….you get it. Probably one of the hardest months I’ve had since February.) Just get through the year.” But what was I thinking would come after it?

Another year, I guess.

I’ve done all the ‘firsts.’ Birthdays, anniversaries, trips, specials places, special events. They can’t be as hard the second time around, right?

I can’t believe how much has changed, and how much I’ve accomplished in one year.

A few weeks after Brad died, I remember sitting on the couch with papers spread all over the place, making a list (me and my lists.) I called it “The Big Ole To Do list.”

It was a giant list of all the things I had to do. It included things like, call the insurance companies, call the banks, sell the horses, sell most of the ‘toys,’ sell his truck, sell my house. MOVE.

At the time, I was SO overwhelmed at the tasks in front of me. All the crap I had do to. And now? It’s almost all done. Holy cow, I got a lot accomplished this year.

Things have changed so much. Relationships with friends and family have changed, most for the better. But some, sadly, have fallen away. Life is just so different. The sign shop has changed and grown so much and I couldn’t be happier about it.

But mostly, I’ve changed. I’m not the same person I was a year ago. Not at all. I think if you told that girl that she would be living alone and sleeping well, she’d laugh at you. If you told her all the things she would accomplish, mostly on her own, and the strengths she’d gain, she wouldn’t believe it.

I think about who I was, how awful I felt after it first happened. It seemed like torture to feel that way. Mostly, I was terrified that I’d always feel that way. I would search out other widows–I wanted to see someone who’d been through it and was okay. I needed proof that one day, I wouldn’t be such a mess. Occasionally though, I’d meet someone who had been a widow for a long time and was still not okay. That would terrify me.

I read something on a blog somewhere, (I wish I knew where so I could give credit to it) It was a section of dialogue from a movie. It said something to the effect:

“It changes.” (speaking of grief.) “It never leaves, or goes away, it just changes. Most of the time, it’s like a rock that I have to keep it my pocket. It’s always there. Sometimes, its annoying, but it’s usually easy to live with. Then sometimes I get very aware of the rock and I pull it out of my pocket. And it becomes a huge boulder that crushes me. Then, after a while, I can change it back to a small rock a put it back in my pocket.”

It has gotten so much better though. I think I’ve admitted here that I’m not a cute, teary-eyed cryer. I’m a massive break-down bawl baby.

At first, I would have a melt down every few hours or so. Then, it would be more like once a day and I thought I was doing pretty good. Then it went to a melt down every few days, and I was encouraged. It kept getting better and better. Now, I’ll go for weeks at a time doing just fine. Even having great days most of the time. I still think about him all the time, almost subconsciously every moment of everyday. It gets easier and those moments don’t hurt so much anymore. Sometimes, they even make me happy.

I guess if I can survive this year, I can get through a second, then a third….. And on a on.

It’s hard to move on. It’s a weird feeling, like someone is pulling both arms the opposite directions. Mostly, I’m excited to move on, to make some changes and start a new chapter-I’ve felt like this year has been such a “limbo” period. But, it’s also sad because moving on feels like moving away from Brad. Moving out of his house, selling his stuff, cleaning out his closet, even the idea of dating. (yes. Dating. Maybe I’ll talk about it on here. Maybe not.) It all feels like I’m moving away from him. And I don’t want to do that. It’s a tricky balance of emotions to play with. Something I think will take some time to sort out and deal with.

One thing is for sure. I never, ever would’ve survived this year without all of you. My family and friends are the angles that have gotten me through and allowed me to still be a happy person. I love you all.

And, of course, my Savior has been at my side, giving me strength when I need it and comfort all the time.

I guess I’ll look forward to another year!

notice I said ‘look forward to another year’ not ‘get through another year’ ? Things are getting better :)

This is a poem my Dad wrote. I never knew my writing skills ran in the family.

I've walked thru four seasons
Longed to see his face
Prayed in faith for relief
Quietly waiting for God's grace

Still searching for a closeness
And trying to heal
Of his continued existence
Still trying to feel

We'll all walk on
Through our seasons of strife
Not forgetting his touch
Remembering his life

The last of the firsts
I hope we have seen
Of heartache and sorrow
And lonely night dreams