There are lots of things we put in closets. There are things you expect to find inside like sweaters, dresses, and shoes. Then there are the other things that you can't find a place for like old yearbooks, memory boxes, or last year's tax returns. Perhaps there are mothballs, spiderwebs, or the odd price tag from a purchased item....all of this you might find behind the doors of your wardrobe.
The useful thing about closets is you can shut the door to cover up any messiness that might be found inside. I suppose that is why we also hide some feelings in places with doors that snap securely shut. No need to look at those fears we tuck behind shuttered doors or to share them with the world or to force ourselves to examine them too closely. At least that is how my emotional closet works. I have shoved a bunch of stuff in there over the last four years. Trouble is whenever I need a sweater (aka some emotional stamina) I have to peek inside and try to stick my arm between the doors without allowing any of the hidden items to find their way into the sunshine of my room.
One thing I stored way back behind the formal dresses, and the ridiculous high heels that kill my feet but look perfect with my dress, is my need to be in a loving partnership again. And there it is, out in the open. The need that took me almost two years to look in the face, almost three years to admit publicly, and close to four years to stop worrying about how having another man in my life would reflect on my love for Phil. So let's free a few more of the stowaways from my emotional closet...Am I betraying Phil by loving someone else? Does finding a new man give the world the false impression that I am, God forbid, "over it?" Will I ever stop feeling like the other shoe is going to drop, as is this new guy is going to die, too? How do I handle the fact that I was happy in my marriage and never wanted to see it end...but here I am husbandless? Why do some people think that grief ends when a new relationship begins? Will my widow community understand that loving someone else does not make me less of a widow? Because as much as I hated that word the first time I had to own it, I have come to realize that being Phil's widow is the only way I can still be his wife. And how in the world do I explain THAT to another man?!
Last week I told another widow that I have a boyfriend, a serious boyfriend actually. And I was shocked by her reply.....What a relief, finally, someone to talk to about this!!! While reading her response I realized that my fear of publicly owning my new life has kept me from serving you the best way I can. In my effort to meet each of you where you are (and these places are so widely varied) I have discovered that I have only told a portion of my story. I happily share my widow self, my mother self, my sister/daughter/friend self...but unless asked specifically about my current relationship status, I have not shared my whole self. I am a widow, I will love Phil forever, I have learned to accept that life will not be what he and I planned, and I have found a man who understands that my past, my loss, and especially my grief, have made me the woman I am today...and he loves the woman I have become in the aftermath of the death of a man who changed my life. If these words hurt or horrify you...please remember that true love is the only thing that never dies. I hold onto that knowledge with both hands as I learn to love again.
So there you have it, and you can meet "him" tomorrow.