Much of our adult lives are about unbecoming.
Widowhood is very much about unbecoming.
And, like any struggle to unbecome, it can be torturous.
It is torturous. For me, at least. For many of us, I’m sure.
I recognize that I must unbecome who I was. I was Chuck D’s wife.
And oh, how I loved being his wife!
Unbecoming his wife is similar, I imagine though I have no experience to base this on…to being racked, like they did to prisoners in Medieval times. I’m a history buff so please forgive my temporary geekiness.
When you are a widow or widower, and you’re dating, It truthfully doesn’t matter how “good” you think things are going. There will always be some aspect of your new relationship that becomes amplified quite simply BECAUSE you are a widow/er. It may be a perceived slight in comparison to how your pror person treated a situation, or it may be an observation that your “second chapter” (I hate that term, by the way) actually does something better or more desirable than your first. It can be good, or bad; it doesn’t matter, it’s amplified.
Each time one of these moments arises, one can’t help but think “well, it wouldn’t be this way if my first person hadn’t died”. It can bring up emotions that are deep seated, yet hidden. Emotions that you did not know even existed, and perspectives that you had never thought about.
One of these moments occurred between Sarah and I on Sunday night, where we both were trying to explain ourselves clearly and with love, yet emotions only continued to rise.
It finally happen, he said it. I have been seeing someone for 5 months now. And we are happy. He makes me happy. And is good to me and the kids. And after 5 months he said it.
He will always feel like second place.
My heart dropped. He said he knows deep down inside I wish I was with Joey.
I remember when a friend of mine starting dating a widower and I asked her that. Doesn't she feel like second. And she said it took some time to realize but no she doesn't anymore. She knows this is where she should be.
So what do I say? Of course I wish Joey was still alive. But he isn't. Of course I would change that night if I could. But I can't. Nothing can change it. He is gone. I am here.