It’s been almost five months since my husband died. The world has begun to come into focus,  the fog lifted and everything is beginning to settle.

Five months without my husband.

Five months ago I was thrust into a new life; no choice, no option, and no warning.

I am a widow.

Those words still ricochet around my head like bullets shot into an empty metal storage container.

The girls and I have begun to adjust to this new life. I am not sure if any of us are feeling better, but we are feeling more…adjusted? I have gotten into a routine of single parenting, as much as it sucks. The girls have begun to get used to only having me at school affairs. We talk about “daddy” fondly and often, but we’ve settled into the idea that this is our life now. It’s the three of us against the world.

I’ve begun to settle into my bed at night and accept the dark and lonely hours that follow.

I’ve settled for drinking my coffee alone in the morning, and making dinner for just me after the girls have gone to bed.

I’ve settled for no kiss goodnight or goodbye.

However, I have also learned that just because I have settled, does not mean that I have accepted.

I have not accepted that my life is this life.  I have not accepted that his glasses will go unused, and his clothes unworn.

I have not accepted the loss of my soulmate, but I have settled into the idea that it may be a excruciatingly long time before I get to see him again.

I have not accepted that he is gone but I have chosen to settle for whatever this new life will bring me.



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