I have always known I am a resilient person, it’s one of my strongest character traits that I’m aware of.

In the past, when someone I knew has passed away (and until losing husband, I had only really lost people when it was expected bar a couple), I always questioned why it didn’t tear me apart. Why was everyone else so upset and I was all nonchalant about it?
I’ve even asked people in my life following a death if they too thought I was emotionally disabled because I always had the attitude that it was their time, it wasn’t goodbye but rather goodbye for now and that it’s just a part of life.

Then hubby died and that wall broke. I was kind of glad actually, to see that when it was someone whom my world revolved, I felt exactly as I should. Broken.
Sounds ridiculous, I know but having not had that level of feeling ever in my life before, I was glad I was capable of it. Until it was too much, then I wished I was able to just shake it off like everything else.

I’ve spoken about being the warrior in a previous post and that’s pretty much how I’ve always lived my life. Problem, shift, roar, solve, wall up, move on.
Looking back over my life, there have been plenty of times where I’ve switched to survivor mode and let me tell you, that girl, she is one tough cookie!

This broke me though, like completely crumpled any stores of fight I had in me. And for that, I’m glad. It was a relief to know that I was capable of feeling the way other people felt. I was capable of vulnerability which I’d previously always thought was a weakness. Well, it’s not.

I let myself feel everything I needed to feel and honestly, even though it was horrid and I never want to feel that again, I’m glad I did.

I have come to a time now where my resilience has kicked back in and that comes with guilt. Weird? Probably.

In 5 days, I will have been without my husband for whole 8mths and right now, I’m feeling strong and capable of forwards motion. That seems ridiculous to me and I sometimes worry that it’s a false wall I’ve built around myself to survive yet another thing but for once, I think I can honestly say there is no wall there, that I really am genuinely coping with this for what it is.

I’m a fairly rational thinker anyway, solving things in my life is part of who I am and so it makes sense that I have come to the conclusion that I can’t change this and so I’ve just got to get on with it. I guess the only thing holding me back from singing on top of a mountain about how I’ve got this is the worry that people will be offended by how I am doing ok.

Grieving people are sensitive. I’m mindful of that. Grief makes people think weird things, do weird things and react very differently to how their usual selves would react. I know this, I was one of them.

Husband’s family are a group of kind hearted, fair and rational people. One of the million reasons I loved him so much was because he too had those traits. They have been so good to me and I hope that I have been at least half as good to them as well. If you could ever wish for in-laws, they’d be the ones you wish for. I adore his family and feel very blessed to be a part of them.
I know they would never be mad at me for feeling good. They aren’t like that. They just want everyone to live happily. But I don’t want them to feel sad either.
I’ve said this before but I don’t want them to ever feel like I didn’t love him enough. Because I did, and do and will forever I’m sure. He was my very favourite person, he still made my heart skip a beat and I couldn’t wait to see him when I woke up every morning (I even trained myself to get up at 5am every morning just to be with him before he went to work – that’s huge, I hate mornings!) He was my person and I was so so lucky to have him for the time I did.

My realist has kicked in now though. Right, so that’s it then. Sounds so callous to me even and it’s me saying it. But that’s the truth, not much I can do about it. Wishing it was different is a daily practice but dwelling on that isn’t helpful, nor healthy because I can’t change a damned thing except my attitude and how I choose to live my life from now on. I choose to live well and can confidently do that knowing that he would be the first person standing on the sidelines cheering me on to do just that.