A New Year 2020

Soon it will be my fourth New Year's Eve without Mike.  Huh.  Wow... I don't even know what any of this means.  Everything and nothing all at once I suppose.  No matter the year, I miss him and this will not change. 

My grief is evolving with time, but the missing is always there.  It is more tolerable now, but in my fourth year of widowhood the sense of his absence is still ever present.  I do not think this will ever change. 

Mike is missing from me and it is hard to live with the aching inside me -  time does not make it better.  Easier?  Maybe.  With time, the emptiness inside me is less shocking.  I am more used to the hollow feeling I have within me.  In truth, I  hardly remember living without the dull ache of my grief.

A new year is before us whether I like it or not.  2020 is a year Mike will never be here to live.  But, I will usher it in.  I didn't die.  Shouldn't I welcome the new year and all the possibility it holds?  Shouldn't I rejoice in my life?  After all, I do still have a good life.  I am grateful for all I have; but, nonetheless, I hate NYE because it feels like it puts more distance between Mike and I.  He feels noticably further away these days.  I don't sense him like I used to.  With time, his physical attributes are fading.  His voice isn't clear anymore.  The feel of him is blurring.  Time is making him more of a memory and less of my man. 

It is very difficult to welcome in a year he will not be a part of.  But, for the rest of my life this is what I will do.

2020 is upon us.  I certainly hope this new year will bring focus and clarity like the digits imply.  I don't know what I wish for this coming year.  Perhaps peace and a sense of contentment.  Maybe it's acceptance.  Acceptance that this is my life.  My life is mine and mine alone

Mike no longer exists in this physical realm.  He can not physically offer me anything in the coming year.  So, I do what I must.  I go forth without him.  I have no choice in this, neither do you.  I admit, I feel largely numb without him.  I feel lost and unsettled.  Nonetheless I will welcome in the new year and live forward because I can.

 

Peace be with you in 2020.  May you find clarity in all this.

~Staci

 

 

 

 


Showing 6 reactions

Please check your e-mail for a link to activate your account.
  • Kevin Black
    commented 2020-01-04 18:03:48 -0800
    30 days since my wife died in my arms . Hard to celebrate anything.
  • Wendy Anderson
    commented 2020-01-04 07:16:33 -0800
    This is my first New Year without my husband in it. My beautiful husband of 34 years passed away in February 2019. All I can think about is how he was her for a bit in 2019, I still had him, my love, my husband, but 2020, he will never be with me ever again! It really made me realize just how alone I really am. I will never know my husband again.
  • Jane Santa Hess
    commented 2020-01-04 06:40:19 -0800
    Staci,
    This is my second New Year without my husband of 47 years. I miss him terribly but cry less often. Life feels empty in comparison to what it used to, but I am determined to survive, and not fail. My greatest lesson is to learn to live alone since I never had before. I do have moments of contentment and I have worked very hard to get those. I have great kids and grandkids but it doesn’t replace the intimacy we had. I do best when I focus on the present and find comfort and happiness just for today. My resolution is to keep doing what I have been doing and move forward.

    Jane
  • Vartan Agnerian
    commented 2020-01-03 20:04:33 -0800
    Dear Staci’ you always go to the core of what widow grief is’ that from now on’ as a widow ’
    for the rest of my life ’ in all the ’ new years ’ my husband will never be a part of it’ he will always be absent in the festivities’ it hurts so bad’ ……. Laura’
  • Staci Sulin
    commented 2019-12-30 10:45:30 -0800
    John
    It’s early days. Your grief will become more bearable with time, but it’s always present in some capacity.

    I try to remember the love and focus less on the loss. It’s not easy, but what else can be done.

    Best to you in 2020.
    Peace be with you,
    ~S.
  • John Gonzales
    commented 2019-12-30 04:32:31 -0800
    Staci
    I lost my Brian, to Pancreatic Cancer, on August 8th. 2019. We shared 42 years as friends, eventually as partners, domestic partners and the last six years as spouses. I brought him home from home from the hospital when the stage four with matastis diagnosis was made and we began the final journey together. In 26 days he deteriorated quickly, I cared for his personal needs and Hospice provided the morphine to manage his pain. Bri-Bri, his nickname, went from 170 lbs. to less then 120 lbs. in 6 months and the blue eyes I so loved became gray, the smile waned, the childlike giggle quieted and his spirit slowly diminished.

    I share this with you because I understand your loss while not even beginning to make sense of mine. I only recently resumed sleeping in our bed, where we slept together, made love, shared with our dog Ben and on which my Bri passed, nestled in my arms. I have not cooked a dinner, in our kitchen, because that was when we shared the events of our work day. His closet, stuffed with clothes and shoes, remain untouched, his office unmolested, his car parked in the garage, and his bike in the bike rack – awaiting its rider. The loss and emptiness you describe are undeniablely, my life. Tears come suddenly, quickly and the sound of my sobs brings my dogs kisses and love as he desperately attempts to console me.

    During Bris’ illness we prayed together each day, received our friends and family for final words and touching farewells, Bri sent them all away with the words “t love you and will miss you”. Each visitor, even the priest, was thanked for their visit.

    On the day Bri passed, I notified the Hospice, I bathed his body, dressed him in his favorite shorts and tee shirt and helped carry 5he gurneys to 5he morticians vehicle, the last thing I could do for him.

    I kept the Rosery, I had placed in his hands, knowing it was the last thing he touched, made his funeral arrangements, purchased our niche and had our makers engraved. Now what am I supposed to do ? I fear the aloneness, the loneliness and the emptiness that is my new life.

    I wish the Lords’ peace be with you as I ask it for myself: John