Fog is lifting … slowly

Every friend with whom I have discussed this matter has said the same thing: Do not rush your way out of your mourning and your heartache.

It will take time for your heart to heal, they say. Yes. I get it. My heart is still broken from the loss of my beloved bride, Kathy Anne, to cancer not quite three months ago. It isn’t likely to heal completely … ever!

I am not rushing anything. However, I am happy to report to those who have an interest in this journey I have been taking that I am beginning to establish a bit of a rhythm to my new life and, yes, the fog is lifting … albeit slowly.

Some things still pierce my soul; they bring tears to my eyes. One of them is the sight of the headstone with Kathy Anne’s name on it. The monument maker this week installed it and I have made two trips to the cemetery to see it. I’ll leave it at that.

But as I go through my day, I am finding an ability to accomplish tasks with dispatch. I take time to laugh at a joke. I play with Toby the Puppy, who continues to provide tremendous companionship … and who continues to entertain me in that way that only devoted pets can do.

And I am able to write about her on this blog, an exercise that gives me a form of emotional therapy.

I can talk openly about my bride now, whereas doing so just a few weeks ago would reduce me to blubbering.

Is any of this a startling revelation? Of course not! It is merely my understanding and appreciating the knowledge that my life is changed forever.

This much hasn’t changed since the day Kathy Anne left us: I still think of her practically every waking moment of every single day. Maybe one day that will change. Just not yet.