Where do I belong?

Dear Dazzy,

Finally, I have had a bunch of good days. Surely it is because spring really is coming! Yea!

However, I am conflicted emotionally ( DUH) and it makes me crazy.

For Example:

I am a widow-but I am not old.

I still feel married-yet I am terribly lonely.

I love all things Aussie-yet I am not a citizen/native.

I am a blonde-yet smart( ok most days, lol)

I am a teacher, yet I hate all the bureaucracy surrounding how/what I can/should teach.

I am sarcastic and cynical, yet I am the most hopeless romantic on the Earth. Maybe even the Milky Way...

I am really organized-no junk drawers in my house- but cannot get my basic stuff like eating healthy meals, hanging up my clothes, etc., done on a regular basis.

Where do I belong?How do I fit in anymore? Can I just say, WTF to life?

I had someone visit me at school today-you'd remember her.

She wanted to extend an invitation to visit her at a class she teaches at church.

Thought it might be good for me.

Church!

Can you imagine, honey?

It would spontaneously combust if I walked into one, I am sure.

Just like you, I don't hold many christian beliefs that many here in the Lone Star state have.

I mean, I truly believe there is something beyond what's here-we agreed on that a while ago.

But I know this much-we don't know squat about the next realm. I have many many people tell me that the do know, but me, I am too much of a "prove it" kinda chick to believe all that is touted in the name of any deity.

I told her "No Thanks; god has pissed on me enough already-" and she said, "OH.... OK."

I didn't think about the way I was saying it, it just Phar Lapped its way past my tongue before I could corral it in, LOL

That's how I really feel anyway, so at least it's the truth!

I also feel chubby and old and tied and sad and ugly and lonely.

How's that for a bunch of adjectives? And this is on a good day, LOL

I just feel really out of place in the suburbs here. No kids at home all the time, no husband to pull in the garage after me at night, just me and the dogs and too much reality TV.

Remember when we first met? I used to tell you how I felt before I knew you, how I was living what I called "the wrong life..." and how when I realized that, I set about to make some drastic changes-and I did. I changed careers, I returned to college, I met you, and I-WE-made our life together something to be cherished, something to be proud of, something magical.

Well, I have that feeling again. Like this is NOT the life I want to be living, not the life I want to have, not the life that should be mine forever-no. I don't want this burden, this widowhood, to define who I am all the time.

Sadly, I know it always will.

I know it will just get different, not easier. I know it will be something to manage, like a chronic illness, never cured; always festering just inside the very cells of my soul.

I remember being preggers with the twins, thinking I was part of that "club" finally-

the Mom club. :)

The it was twins-so I got to be in the more exclusive club, LOL

Next it was divorcees united-I was happy to be in that one, you know that for sure, right babe?!

Then it was college returnees-loved it, loved it, loved it. More than I ever knew I could.

The came you, and I got to be in the "better the second time around" parade.

And it all made sense, everything I worked hard for was reflected in your eyes when you looked into mine for the first time, wrapping those big ole arms around me and saying,

"G'day, Gorgeous!" in that accent that always made me swoon.

Now I have joined a club that I never wanted admittance to.

At least, not before the age of 90!!!! I think I could have accepted that.

Maybe.

But this....this widowhood kicks me in the ribs every time I try to breathe.

It happens when Star Trek or the Simpsons or Cops comes on TV; it's seeing Listerine Breath Strips or mandarin oranges or Weetbix at the supermarket; it's reading about peoples' fascinatingly mundane lives-kids in school, moving, new jobs or other minutia that I would give my eye teeth and then some to have once again, because it would mean you were here with me and all would be right in the universe.

But it is slowly, slowly, slowly with a capital "S" becoming my new normal, and I guess you could say I am sort of getting used to the oh- so-quiet house, the never ending list of things to be done, the time spent alone.

I don't like it but I am tolerating it.

I guess that's a good first step, eh, honey?

I miss you, Dazzy. You know that. Wish you were still here-really here-with me.

I'll never stop wishing that. Ever.

But I long for the day where my focus is on what's coming next instead of what has passed me-us- by.

Love you Dazzy. Always.

Kisses, Wifey.