Christmas Day 2015

Today is my first Christmas as a single woman. Ever. I've been dealing with a flood of emotion over the past few weeks, but today is surprisingly calm.

Earlier this week, I switched out my wedding rings for a special ring Brian gave me on our 5th anniversary. He bought it at the mall in Columbia, South Carolina right after graduating basic training. Taking off my wedding ring is a significant symbolic gesture for me. It acknowledges the end of my marriage when Brian died and recognizes my freedom to continue living life on my own. Wearing the anniversary ring is also symbolic. It honors the relationship that defined our lives for 21 years and signifies that I'm still mourning the loss of my husband.

I know that I'm at the threshold of stepping out as an individual and taking ownership of whatever the rest of my story will be, but I still feel like half of a whole most of the time. I vacillate between holding on and letting go and neither option feels entirely right.

Grief is a bit like a time warp sometimes. The things that we were looking forward to before Brian got sick have come and gone without him as if nothing happened. Our pool project completed, I had my 40th birthday, Thanksgiving is over, Star Wars released episode 7, and now Christmas is here. The world keeps turning and life goes on no matter how much I want it to stop and wait for me to catch up. The New Year is on its way and I have no idea what to do with it.

I can't see my future at all. I can't even imagine it. It's coming whether I'm ready or not, but I just can't fathom what it will look like. How long will I be alone? Do I even mind being alone? Is this house going to be my home for the next 20 or 30 years or will I sell it to get something more practical? Is Arizona really where I want to be? What might my career look like now that I have to consider how much money I make? How should I spend my vacations? What do I want to do with the rest of my life?

I honestly have no clue.
 

He wasn't really peeing. This is where the master

toilet would eventually be and he was just pretending.

I don't remember for sure if he even knew

I was taking a photo.

Last Christmas

Last Christmas was our first Christmas in our new house. We spent Christmas eve and Christmas morning with our new neighbors. I made cookies and delivered them to all the houses around me. We decorated the outside of our home for the first time ever. We didn't decorate the inside because - well - we didn't feel like it. 

Brian gave me an R2D2 trash can and I don't even remember what I got for him. We got a Twinkie maker from Allison and Rob that was pretty fantastic and he got Allison a Pocket Hose which was a much bigger deal than one might think. 

We were quite happy with ourselves. Everything made sense and life was good.We didn't have a lot of holiday traditions, but we were going to. We had finally gotten where we were going. It was time to settle in, get comfortable and become who we wanted to be. 

Last year was forever ago. Nothing looks the same. I try not to assume change is bad, but the changes I've been through and continue to go through are hard. I've experienced a loss that was simply unimaginable 365 days ago. We had no way of knowing what was coming. 

The holidays, for good or bad, are a timestamp. There is a tendency to take inventory of the events of the past year and to reflect on the overarching progress of one's life. As the new year approaches, I think it's natural to consider how far you've come and to make plans for the future. 

I've grown a lot this year. I've discovered a depth of faith that I didn't think I was capable of. I have a new perspective and a sense of contentment that I've never known before. My relationships are more genuine now and I feel a greater sense of freedom to be myself. 

These are not lessons I couldn't have learned while Brian was alive, but I wouldn't have. I was happy and fulfilled. I had someone to love and someone who loved me. I had no reason to search for answers or to seek transformation. The devastation of losing him was a paradigm shift. The framework of my life was unstable and I had no choice but to examine the foundation on which everything was built. 

I don't want to go backwards. I don't want to give back what I've gained to retrieve what I've lost, but I still miss him. I miss all of it.  I miss his face and all the silly things he did. I miss how excited he would get when he thought he had gotten me the perfect gift and how hard it was to wait for Christmas to give it to me. I miss how proud he was of his present wrapping skills. I miss his enthusiasm for baked ham and orange potatoes and for playing with his new toys. 

Last Christmas, we had no idea that it was our last Christmas. I miss that too.