OK, honeymoon probably isn’t the right word, since this past year would have been considered a pretty terrible one. (Nothing like my experience back in 2001, that’s for sure.) This picture is of Kenny and me about three weeks after we were married, in the process of moving all our earthly possessions down to our apartment in Provo where we would be attending school. It was at that point that the honeymoon officially was over for us, and we needed to face real life and a whole slew of new responsibilities.
As for now, while I wouldn’t really refer to the past year as a honeymoon, I have been sensing that the divinely influenced grace period I was granted, a sort of buffer from the world, seems to be coming to a close. Many of the supports that were offered are being faded out, and rightfully so. I’m needing to handle more responsibilities, can no longer justify putting some things off.
There are even evidences of this with my business. After Kenny died I gave myself a trial period of one year to see if I could really support my family by being self employed with my private practice. (Yes, yes I can. Way to go, me!) I made the decision to switch to being full-time when the school year started, assuming that I would need a while to build up to full-time status. Except I didn’t. At all. Without my doing any sort of marketing (other than “pitching” myself to one private school to be able to treat their students during school hours), I found myself full-time practically overnight (OK, not quite, but it was fast). The calls and emails started pouring in at the end of summer, and miraculously, everything just fit exactly in my schedule so that I was seeing clients full-time. I have been busy enough, have even had a waiting list, and I have been able to hire another clinician who will be helping me this summer, as well as an office manager to assist me with organization and billing and paperwork. It’s amazing to see where I am now, compared to a year ago. I do know, though, that I will need to actively and consistently work on my business to continue to be successful.
I also own that there have been instances during the past year where I have stubbornly not wanted to deal with or learn how to do something, especially when they were items that Kendall always took care of or was so much better at doing. I’ve had a sort of emotional block with some things, almost an irrational fear that even if I tried I simply wouldn’t be able to do what was required. I shied away from failure, and was more than happy allowing other people to handle some things for me. I’m still not very good with anything technology related, or car maintenance, or a myriad of other things, but I am beginning to force myself to learn.
I’m not making as many excuses for myself, either. Or at least I’m trying not to. I’m attempting to tackle some things I would rather not, that feel intimidating. I am endeavoring to be more intentional with the relationships in my life, looking for opportunities to reach out in ways I simply could not when I was just trying to survive. (Still a long ways to go with that, but I am making a conscious effort to be better, to be able to look out of and past my own pain and grief.)
It’s not easy. Being widowed means constantly living outside of my comfort zone. Needing to do things that I am simply not good at. (I do so love being good at things…) Acknowledging and having to accept that it is impossible for me to do everything that used to be done by two. Asking for and accepting help more often than I would like. Giving up or tabling some things that used to be really important to me.
But it has also meant discovering ways that I am stronger and more able than I could have imagined. Crossing paths with some incredible people I never would have otherwise. Developing an even closer relationship with God. And making concepts like hope, faith, gratitude, fortitude, trust, humility, patience, and so many more into actual real, tangible things in my life. I wouldn’t wish this gig on anyone, but I can’t say that widowhood is ALL bad.
