All of my friends and family have told me this repeatedly since I ran smack into the worst day of my life.
Do not put a timetable on anything as it regards how you will mend your shattered heart, they have said. Grief is as individualized an emotion as any human being ever will experience.
I have learned that lesson as time marches on since the passing of my bride, Kathy Anne, to the ravages of cancer.
It’s coming up on my five months since she passed. It remains a struggle, to be sure. Friends who lost spouses a lot longer ago than I have tell me they still break out in tears without warning. They still struggle to hold their emotions together when certain dates come and go.
They all assure me that time will make it easier to cope with it, but that I should not expect it to disappear. It will stay with me for as long as I walk this Earth. I get it!
You see, this is the first such experience that I have felt. The loss of my parents was in one instance shocking and in the other was expected. The shocking loss of Dad in that boat wreck in September 1980 caused my blood seemingly to drain from my body the moment I got the news. Mom’s passing from Alzheimer’s complications four years later saddened me, but in a different way.
Time eventually mended my heart after their deaths.
This one feels unique. Kathy Anne and I were together for 51 years as husband and wife. Her diagnosis came the day after Christmas 2022. She was gone six weeks later. How am I supposed to cope with that, given the optimism to which we clung after hearing about her potential prospects once she began her treatment.
We didn’t anticipate the aggressive nature of the cancer that had struck her and the savagery it exhibited as it grew back.
All of this has contributed to my continued pain as I trudge along on this journey.
I know my family and friends are right. I know what to expect and I know what not to expect as I move ahead. I’ll just ask everyone to bear with me … and I know they will.