This year was something I could never have envisioned. I would certainly say I will never be the same. I don't know if I'm better or worse but my sense of self, being a mother, a daughter, a sister and a friend are still intact. I've gone back to kickboxing. I read a lot. I've drank a lot of wine. I've laughed with friends. I volunteered. I've felt sorry for myself. I've hauled sheep all over the state of Texas with my kids. I sometimes sleep. I still wear my wedding ring. I went on a couple of vacations. I have purposely not read any books on grief. I've gone back to church more. I'm still slightly mad at God but trying not to be. I cry more than the average person. I talk about Jeff and tell stories about him, especially to the kids. I've appreciated that life has gone on. I've celebrated in the birth of new babies. I've had to check the "widow" box on forms. I've met people that don't know my husband died of cancer and I didn't tell them. I've shared my grief with friends who also lost loved ones this year to cancer. I've been optimistic. I've been a pessimist. I don't go out to the farm much because I can't bear to love that place without Jeff in it. I've been places and thought I'd seen Jeff. I've spontaneously thought I should call Jeff to tell him something important. I've prayed a lot. I've been hopeful. I've been really, really sad. I have tried to fill myself with love and peace in a way that will center me and anchor me so that I can stand straight, walk forward into life and raise my kids. It's all I know to do.
Maybe one day I will write the book on grief.
Leta
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