Hmmm, what to write about? Yes, it’s another one of those “blank stare” kind of days. I’ve poured my soul into writing here, week in and week out, for almost two years now, and if you’ve followed along, you know that every once in awhile…
...there just isn’t anything to say.
I could talk about Shelby turning ten, but I did that last week. Maybe about how she helped me change the oil in my car and lost a tooth yesterday? Nah, that really isn’t relevant. What about expanding upon Sarah’s writing about the signs we’ve been seeing as of late? Eh, that’s almost “cheating”, and it wouldn’t say anything that she hasn’t said already.
Counseling? Well, right now, it’s going well, Sarah and I are better than ever, and there isn’t anything earth shattering coming out of there. It would just bore the reader, and beat a dead horse.
So I guess, that I might as well write about not having anything to write about. I can write about how I’m frankly, happy and in a good mood, and I’m not at this moment grieving anything. There hasn’t been a birthday, anniversary, milestone, or trigger in a while, and there won’t likely be one for a while longer.
And that’s fine. I don’t go looking for triggers or signs in my day to day life. I wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, lather, rinse, and repeat as necessary. It’s the same thing I’ve been doing for almost twenty years now. Sure, there are little variances every day, but they aren’t anything to mourn over or learn from. They aren’t life lessons that I can incubate into some profound statement, waiting for Tuesday when I can get on my soap box and shout it to the world.
It’s just life. It would be the same if Megan was here, or Sarah had never came into it. It goes on, and being a productive member of society and a father is still a requirement regardless of whatever or whomever I’ve lost.
I may have learned that lesson earlier and easier than most. I had ten years to prepare for being a widower, after all. So when prophecy became reality in the fall of 2014, it wasn’t all that long until I was back at the daily grind, with moments of grief becoming less and less frequent.
That’s not to say I didn’t grieve. Far from it, but my reality was that there was still a little girl that needed her parents. Bills still needed paid, snow shoveled, and chores taken care of. I fully allowed that reality to quash heavy sentiment about losing Megan. I put my head down and marched on with life, and, in my opinion, I am better off for it.
For quite some time, when I would intellectually think about this outlook, I would feel guilty. I would feel as if I was disparaging Megan’s memory by “moving forward”. It took a while, but I began to realize that “moving forward” however, was not “moving on”. I can say with a clear conscience that this is exactly what she would want. She wanted a happy and healthy Shelby and husband, that, while still missing her, could function without her. She didn’t want me crying in a corner for years because I didn’t know how I would go on.
I already knew how I would go on, because we talked about it. After the shock of her death began to wane, I began to execute and quickly fell back into routine. Was it “easy”? I guess. I have a good job and own a home. I already had stability, as did Shelby, and financially, we frankly didn’t need Megan. I know that is different for many widows, so I won’t make the cardinal sin of telling people that it’s the “right” way to do it, but it certainly seems as if it was the “right way” for me.
Ahh, but that routine. Being in it means that sometimes, life is just routine, and there is not a lesson to be learned today. There isn’t anything to ponder or write about, other than the fact that there isn’t anything going on. There’s no guilt behind that statement. I’ve had two and a half years as a widower, and many more to grieve and mourn that fact that I would be.
So maybe, just maybe the reason I can’t figure out what to write about is that I needed to write about that very thing. I needed to just sit down and say “well, there haven’t been any moments this past week, so here goes”. The lack of events occurring is in its very nature, an event. One to be celebrated.