Seven Years

At some point life boils what’s in your crucible down to the salt of you. It did to me. June 28, 2008. My husband died.

It has been a long and incredible journey of grief and healing, of learning things I didn’t want to learn, of giving up things I didn’t want to give up, of building a whole new life. As hard as it was to fathom that I had to build anew, it was a given. It happened by default. The old life existed no more. As much as I tried to gather in all the residuals of that old life, I could not.

Cover48998072dpi

My journey of loss, grief, and rebuilding is presented in a memoir published in 2013: Remember the Dragonflies. It’s all there: the loss, the raw pain, the sheer agony, how I dealt with the pain, how I dealt with the “why” of it, and walking up that road of rebuilding. It’s a long, hard journey.

Now, I can say that I am well, I have coped, I am content with my life, I am happy. Yes, I miss him.

Seven is the number of completeness … and rest. And so I leave it with that. I am complete, at rest, at peace.

Advertisements

3 Comments on “Seven Years”

  1. Don Day says:

    I am very happy for you Kathy

  2. judydeluca says:

    Reblogged this on Judy De Luca and commented:
    A friend of mine’s journey

  3. M. Bradley McCauley says:

    The pain remains but eases with time. He is very proud of how you have worked your way through the bad times and how you hold onto the good memories. I’m sensing the aroma of Brut, any connection?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s