This Widow’s New Year’s Eve …

Don and I bw Today is this widow’s new year’s eve. I no longer mark a new year on January 1st, though that may change someday. But not today.

A year ago, today, marks a year since I’ve seen your smile. A year since I’ve heard your wonderfully infectious laugh or held your warm hand, your fingers firmly entwined with mine making me feel taken, protected, and wanted. You always made me feel desired and loved. Always. Even now I feel your love for me, and I thank God for that.

A door closed at 12:31 am that Tuesday morning. It closed on our future and I found my heart homeless. A great love remaining, with seemingly no where to go.

A homeless heart, shattered on the ground; cutting deeply with each step forward these 365 days.

We widows count … it bothers most of us and we wonder if we’ll ever stop counting … I don’t know if I will, though I stopped counting days and weeks, I only count months now. I imagine it will eventually be the years I count, but not today.

Time has no meaning. It’s been a year, yet it feels like just yesterday we were driving up north laughing about whether it was horses or cows we saw on the drive. I stand that they were horses! 🙂

Just yesterday …. a year … time has no meaning to me. It’s a blink of an eye, all of it …

I did much better today than I thought I would. I didn’t indulge in sorrow. I went to the  cemetery for the first time … you aren’t there, but your crypt stone beautifully displays your name with your dates … and the flowers for spring. James was with me. It’s the first time either of us have been there since your funeral. The tears flowed but I was at peace, somehow. Though I know you aren’t there. I guess it’s like a touch point.

Oh, how I miss you. It comes in waves. The pain. The missing. The longing. So tomorrow I begin the second firsts.

I’m told I will feel these more intensely because the shock has worn off. I will think clearer and will have to face the reality of what my new life will be and how I will handle these things alone.

I’m told people will be less tolerant of my mourning process. They’ll advise me to move on and live my life. They’ll tell me I’m young and should remarry. Well … I certainly hope God continues to help me be kind in the light of their having no clue. Like I’ve said before, we don’t move on. We don’t get on with it. We move forward. And some of us never marry again.

Lord help me to be kind! Amen. 🙂

So it’s new year’s eve for this widow. I imagine I will wake up tomorrow as I have these last 365 days (I guess that’s counting days, isn’t it!), wondering what the point is. But I will get up and I will move forward, with you tucked away in my heart.

It’s how I bring you with me each day. Tucked safely in my heart, always.

I am thinking of getting another tattoo … one with the signature you’ve written in virtually every card you’ve ever given me and a scripture from the last Mother’s day card you gave me …

We have shared together the blessings of God.

Philippians 1:7

With All My Love


We did … we shared together the blessing of God! ❤

I think you would love it. I love you …Forever to Eternity.

Love A signature




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