I’m a mother, a daughter, a sister. I’m a reformed book worm who still reads a lot, especially science fiction. I love baseball and hope to see a world series game some day. I think ice cream is nature’s most perfect food. There’s always sauerkraut and beer in my refrigerator.
There’s more to me than being a widow. I don’t want that one sad fact to dominate my life and dictate my future. Right now, this tough, difficult year, it does; but that will not continue.
Rick and I decided we were going to live together within a few months of meeting. If we had been younger we’d have waited longer, been more prudent and hesitated before deciding to make a complete commitment to eachother.
We didn’t do that. We both knew how rare it is to find someone, and we were also aware of our middle-aged status. When we got married we figured we’d have 20 years together, maybe more, maybe less. Neither of us thought there would be less than 10 years from first date to last goodbye. I’m glad we didn’t spend several years cautiously dating, deciding if we were really right for each other. We decided to bet on life.
I’ll still take that bet. I loved our time together, and what made it so wonderful was that both of us were willing to move forward and try new things, new experiences. We were both open to what life could bring.
Right now I’m heartbroke and sad and mixed up and not sure what’s going on. But I’m not going to stay this way forever. I’m not going to put on black shapeless clothes and retreat into the “widow woman” role for the rest of my life. I am going to go out and live whatever life I have and do a damn good job of it.