The last couple of weeks has been intense. I guess everything kind of culminated for me, and I feel like I’ve had another breakthrough!! (I know, I always think I have a breakthrough, and think my grief journey is coming to and end...but it never does and there’s always something that’s next that’s even harder to overcome!!) I think I was expecting your one year deathversary to be devastating (I mean the monthly ones usually hit like a ton of bricks, whether I realize it or not!), but it wasn’t as bad I would have thought. I guess the posts on Facebook helped me to start the work of processing and reflecting my pain, grief, thoughts, and learnings from the year that by the time the day arrived, I felt more alive and liberated than devastated. Giving people on Facebook a glimpse of our life and my grief journey allowed me to “turn towards my grief and face it,” while also “setting the record straight” and controlling the narrative I wanted people to know about where I am on my grief process so they wouldn’t make assumptions or judgements based on what they see on the outside only. As the posts progressed, I become more open and “vulnerable,” as my therapist would call it. The posts got more intimate and delved deeper into the struggles, challenges, and fears of widowhood, what I like to call #widowhoodstruggles. My therapist was so happy to hear about how “vulnerable” I was on Facebook. (Did you know, I could never say that work correctly growing up. I guess I feared it so much, I couldn’t even say it or maybe it’s because i’m a refugee and English is my second language - despite what you say about my refugee status!!) What happened on Facebook was what my therapist calls an “unraveling,” where I was peeling back my protective layer one piece at a time until all that was left was me - standing there, open and exposed for the world to see. It felt liberating because I was no longer afraid to “own my story” and say, “I’m a widow and it sucks. I’m not okay, but that’s okay too!” Ever since you died, all I wanted was for people to think that I was okay, and you don’t know how much I just want to be okay also. But now I know, “Okay” will always be relative for me.
We'll discuss my "breakthrough" later...there's a lot and will take some time but now I'm too tired!!
I love you so much. There's never a day that goes by that I don't want to just lay in your embrace and have you hold me forever. You always made me feel so loved, safe, and protected.
A grieving widow who is trying to find meaning and purpose from her tragic event.