Picking Up The Pieces

I never expected, at this stage in life, to be trying to find the new me and create a new life. The old me is gone, so I have no choice. I never expected to find kinship with the grieving the easier path. I envy those who haven't had the pain and give thanks for their innocence. 

I look back at my life with Gordon and see two separate people. One I thought I knew and one I clearly didn't. I could be referring to him, I could be referring to me. I will continue to look back and wish it had gone different. I will always regret how it ended. 

Like pieces of a picture torn to shreds, I have to pick up and carry on. So while I stumble often, into a new life I go. I find it curious, that when a young person loses a spouse, how quickly we are to say you are young, you will find love again. Why don't we offer the same assurance to those of other ages? Love comes in so many forms. Let's leave age out of it.

Let's encourage the hurting and support them. Let's not make assumptions, let's leave stigma at the door. Now I understand that my experience represents one of the scary things that can happen in life. So in some ways I make people uncomfortable. In past years I would have felt that discomfort because of my lack of experience. This experience has been brutal, but with this experience comes empathy.

Some will never share their grief, their story, their regret, their longing. Everyone grieves a loss in their own way and time. I put mine into words, for others along the path who may not have words. Try to remember the hurting often pull it all together and present like any other person. Inside they have broken parts. We all have broken parts, now that I think of it.

As you/me/we go on with life, be gentle. Acknowledging the hurt promotes the healing. So hold my hand as I go on, and I will hold yours as you go on.