Today is my birthday. Its my second birthday without Handsome Husband. I’m 56 in regular years, but…its my second birthday without Handsome Husband and that number holds so much more power than my actual years of being on this earth. The day, the number 56, is means nothing to me, which I realize probably sounds so very depressing but to me is neither one thing or another. It just is what it is. But don’t stop reading-there is more to it, I promise.
See that massive hole in the ground in front of you that is so huge its cavernous? That hole appears to be all black volcanic rock, broken up with sharp and brittle gaps separated with what seems like bottomless crevasses between them, stretching down, down, down into nothingness.The bottom is invisible from the top. But if you could see the bottom and you looked closely, somewhere maybe around a 1/3rd of the way from the bottom, there is a barely discernible figure, clad in, surprisingly but it’s why you can make this figure out at all…yes, pink. It’s a woman. On her back is a clearly very heavy backpack and her feet are clod in climbing boots. Her hair is matted to her head with sweat and her fingers are red and cut from grasping the rocks for leverage and to keep from falling backwards into the blackness. If you could see her eyes from that distance, you’d see that their cornflower blue is clouded with devastation and loss but sharp with determination. She doesn’t look up; her eyes are trained directly on the rocks in front of her. It’s a slow climb, as she must continually pause to gather her strength and take a gasping breath.
She’s in survival mode. It uses up everything physical, everything emotional and everything spiritual and mental that is in her to raise her foot one more time to lever herself up one more rock. And you know what? Its okay. She’s a sweaty, devastated with grief, FWG and its okay. She isn’t sad about being sad, she is just doing what needs to be done.
Would you like to know what keeps her breathing? Study this~
You, my family, my friends, my fellow Tabbers, my military family, my Second Firsts family, my angel sisters of Tapestries of Hope, my SOTF, my Glampers, my faithful blog followers, my fellow widows, met and not yet met-all of you who are my community. You are the cracks. You are the ones who are letting the light into my heart and soul and you keep me climbing those black rocks. Out of the darkness.
What else is there for me to say on this birthday but thank you? From me, and I know, from Hands0me Husband, who would hug each of you individually for the love you are giving to the woman he loved more than himself.
I bow my head to you in acknowledgement.