This so aptly describes where I am right now. Being back in my hometown reminds me so much of my past, of the beginning of my happy life with Tom. As I look back at the last four years I really don't know how I even survived. There were many days when I really didn't want to go on. There have been awesome people who were there for me, those who altered their lives to help me live through mine. And my puppy dog. The morning after Tom died I was awaken by her sloppy kisses and knew that this little girl needed her mommy since she had lost her daddy. She kept me going when I wanted to give up. Perhaps it is sheer stubbornness masquerading as fortitude, or perhaps some strange whisper of hope that I could one day be happy again. Whatever it is, it has brought me to a new place in my grieving process, another level of letting go of Tom. There are days when I embrace it as an important step in moving forward. And then there are days that my heart stamps its feet and yells in defiance "I don't wanna and you can't make me!" You see my heart seems to have a mind of its own which it has so clearly demonstrated by its funky beat. We need to get on the same page. There are so many moving parts in my life right now which will determine what my future may look like and all I can do is turn it over and have faith that the outcome with my best interest will present itself.
One of those moving parts is my heart's recovery. It has been three and half months since surgery and I am coming off of my meds. The next month will tell whether the procedure was successful or if I will need to have a second one. This weaning period is causing some stress. Every funky beat, every palpitation has me focused on what my heart is doing and what the future holds. It is scary stuff. I really don't want to go through this anymore. I am now feeling more like myself as I decrease the meds that have kept the ticker on track. And now that I am on the precipice of my "new life" fear has set in. It was one thing when my "new life" was a hazy thought in the future, when I had to deal with the business at hand of grieving. While I will never be "over" Tom's death--it is a part of my life and who I am--the loss has, and will continue to, fade and be woven into the fabric of who I am and not the only thing that defines me. The shiny new life (at least that is what I am hoping for) is more clearly in sight. And with that comes the fear of the unknown, of the possibilities, of the risks, and of the rewards. I sometimes wonder if I have it in me, if the last four years have drained me of my essence. But I think the truth is that almost everything about me has changed. There continue to be shifts, some moving at a glacial pace, and some like California's earthquakes--unexpected with the ability to quickly shake things up and grab one's attention.
What I do know is that I am not the same anymore. There are parts of me that are familiar but many that are not. I look in the mirror some mornings and I can see the experiences in the reflection of my eyes. And I wonder how it is I am still standing. It's pretty awesome that I am. I expect it of myself while at the same time I am surprised by it. I don't know which moving part is going to click into place next but whichever part it is, it will take me on a new adventure.
