Lessons I’ve Learned

1,361 Comments / JellyBean Widow / By Gomita

It’s ok to not be ok. Most of my life I’ve spent trying to make others happy (I think that is why I became a nurse); most of the time to the detriment of my own happiness. I would go without. I didn’t like ruffling feathers and I sure as heck didn’t like conflict. All my life I’ve been a people pleaser with a doormat across my forehead that said “walk here.” It hurt me deeply if I have caused hurt to another. What I have found out is that just because you sacrifice for others, that does not mean they would do it for you. Most of the time, they don’t even notice. But do you know what tragedy does? It put so many things into perspective. You learn what is important and what isn’t. You learn which battles/fights to choose. You are more selective about who you allow into your circle. Since the death of my husband, I have stopped living for everyone one else. I have stopped saying “I’m sorry” for things that are beyond my control. I have learned to cut people out of my life who don’t belong there. Don’t get me wrong…it is not like I flipped some sort of switch and magically stopped giving a damn. I am still a work in progress. But I have to say IT FEELS AMAZING!

It’s ok to completely suck at something. It’s ok to not have a single clue of how to be a parent let alone a good one. My fear was that I was going to scar my child for life in some way. What I’ve learned is one of THE most important things I have to do is love her and teach her to love herself. I’ve learned to let go of a lot of my fears (many remain though). With each passing day I pray for continued guidance for myself and guidance on raising my daughter (among many other prayers). I used to worry that my child was somehow deficient because she no longer had a father who is present. I didn’t want her to be singled out at school. But out of all the things in my life that I do have control over, that is not one of them. What I have taught her is she is no different from anyone else. Her father may no longer be with us, but she has so many family and extended family who love her beyond words.

Always say “I love you” before you part ways; you never know if that is the last time you will see them. Tell others how you feel TODAY because we are not guaranteed tomorrow. These were just words to me in the past. It took a tragedy to make me see how important it really is. My husband always told me “you’re stronger than you know.” I remember thinking yeah, yeah of course I am. As it turns out, I’ve found a strength that I didn’t know I had. It did not happen overnight (remember, this is year 8) and I still struggle; I imagine I always will. My strength came slowly and as I woke everyday and looked at my daughter’s face, I managed to find the strength to put one foot in front of the other. I felt like I had to be ok…for her.

I also learned that you cannot rush healing. I wanted so badly to be ‘ok’. I had no idea how long was an appropriate time to grieve (there is no appropriate time). I wanted people to stop looking at me with pity in their eyes. So I tried very hard to be ok. I tried to rush the process. And when I wasn’t rushing it, I was trying to numb it. But pain and unresolved feelings, including grief, have a knack of showing up at the most inopportune times. Like in the middle of Hobby Lobby while I was minding my own business, shopping for who knows what. All of a sudden, seemingly out of nowhere, I burst into tears (like seriously ugly cry kind of tears) because I had a thought about the last time my husband and I were in this store. All the feelings I had been repressing spilled right out of me, for all the world (or at least the store) to see. I had to leave cause I was a hot mess. Then there was the time I was giving my daughter a bath. As she sat there splashing in the tub my mind wandered back to when my husband was alive and we would all be in the bathroom laughing and playing. It’s bad enough to start sobbing in a store in front of a bunch of people you don’t know who you are unlikely to see again. It is awfully terrifying to a child to see her mother loose it. As I mentioned in another post, there is no quick way to heal. You have to go through the process. You HAVE to go through the process.

I cannot take credit for the healing. Not a day went by that I didn’t constantly pray for guidance and clarity and the strength to make it through the day…if only 5 minutes at a time. I lost my best friend, the love of my life. I was left with a gaping hole. I will, someday, feel whole again. My heart will fully heal, the (w)hole will be mended and my scars will remind me of a strength I never knew I had. What I am left with, by His grace, is my daughter…the best of us both and my most precious gift.