An Uncertain Future

I miss my husband.  But you're not surprised by this.

Each day I go about my business.  Going to work, coming home, getting things done.  And I realize I'm adjusting to the emptiness in the house and that I "live alone".  And when I stop and remind myself, it scares me.  That somehow Ed is not here and has not been here for over 5 months.  And my life is going on and I'm navigating this new world that is so foreign to me.

Someone told me yesterday that they are proud of how I'm trying to make adjustments and figure this all out and that comment made me feel empty and uncertain.  I know they meant it as a compliment and I appreciate the intent.  But I am saddened to realize what I'm doing each day is indeed trying to figure out who I am and what my life is supposed to be...without Ed.

Part of that scares me.  I have never been alone.  It also bothers me that I am living each day and adjusting.  The quiet in the house is less uncomfortable.  Eating dinner alone, is now more routine.  I know from your perspective these adjustments are good.  But internally, I know it means I'm adjusting to living without Ed and it breaks my heart.  I know I have no other choice and I get it now--this is life.

People die and those of us left behind are supposed to just carry on.  It happens every day to many, many people.  And I look at pictures of Ed and that is all that remains...the pictures and the memories.  And there are things I don't remember and I'm afraid of when I'll forget things about Ed.  The memory of his touch, his kiss, his voice...these are already fading.  And that scares me.

I am thankful that I do have a lot of pictures.  We were a family that had cameras at every event and took pictures of everything.  And even though Ed hated having his picture taken, I do have a lot of him so I know I need to appreciate that fact.

Ed also had a memory where he could recall the smallest of details.  There wasn't anything he forgot.  I was doing laundry last night and there is a wall between the laundry room and Ed's workshop and I'm quite sure Ed put up that wall after we bought the house.  But I honestly don't remember and the only person who would remember would be Ed.  There are no pictures and Dan was not born yet (or he was very young).  And the fact that I can't answer this stupid question in my head, even though it really doesn't matter, bothers me and I wonder, and fear, what else I won't remember tomorrow, 5 years from now, 10 years from now, 20 years...

I sit here today and say "I wish I videotaped Ed" and "I wish I had him tell me everything he remembers from his childhood, from our life, from his time at the golf course, so I could write it all down" because right now I'm trying to put my life in order and his as well and it's the practical thing to do.  But I had time with Ed before he passed and we had over 3 years since he was diagnosed with terminal cancer, and we never did that.  I did have the time and I realize we didn't focus on him dying but rather living life.  And I don't have regrets about how we spent our time.  Would I have done a bit more to "prepare"....yes.  But what I do know and what I have learned is that no one, absolutely no one, can prepare you for losing your spouse and best friend.  No one can explain the grief and the emotions and the stages you move through.

The grief of Ed's passing is less and I cry less due to the pain of him being gone.  However, the tears now come because it scares me that I am learning to adjust to being alone and I am beginning this new journey of just "Jeanne", not "Ed&Jeanne".  The future doesn't excite me with unknown opportunities, but rather scares me with just unknowns that I must face without my best friend and partner. I don't want to adjust and try to define my life and who I am, but I guess I have no choice...