The Life of a Widow: Four Months Out

So, many of my friends have suggested I revive this blog... Truth is, I didn't exactly know how to get started after such a long hiatus, so I guess I'm just going to jump in. Maybe as time goes on I'll "backdate" posts from FB and post them here, but for now I'm just going to go forward with the blog.

Here we are. It's been four months since that life-changing, heart-shattering, world crushing day. October 15, 2015 will forever have a bittersweet ring to it. A day where my husband was both alive and dead in the same day. The day those Wyoming Mountains took my everything away from me and our children. Where such a beautiful place holds such a dark secret. A beautiful place that holds such a power to forever change the lives of a wife and 3 young children.

Every month in the days leading up to the 15th, I relive the events of those days. The 9th, the day I kissed, held, hugged, looked into those beautiful blue eyes, held those hands that I cherished so much, felt the passion in our love and heard those three most profound words, "I love you;" all, unknowingly, for the very last time, face to face. The 11th, when I got that phone call saying they were finally in Wyoming and would be ascending up the mountain in the morning to set up camp. And, lastly... The 12th, when I heard his voice for the very last time for all of my living days here on Earth. A 5 minute phone call. I will never forget the excitement in his voice as he told me about setting up camp and how he found a spot of service so he could call me everyday.

Never, in a million and one years, would I ever think that would be the last time I would ever hear his voice.

Tuesday the 13th rolled around; no call. Of course my worry grew... Wednesday the 14th; no call. By this time I flirted between being resentful and angry with being worried and full of anxiety. I sent him a text that afternoon that he wouldn't get. Thursday the 15th; no call. But, this time I knew something was very, very wrong. To say the day felt weird, off and significant without reason is an understatement. I just couldn't figure out why that day felt so profound... So significant. Reliving that night is a nightmare. It sends chills down my spine. It haunts me. It sends me into a panic with tears streaming down my face. The absolute worst day of my life; hands down.

No one prepares you to be a widow at 26 with 3 young children. No one. I'm not even sure there is any way to prepare someone... Or if there ever will be. Whether the death is expected or unexpected; there's just no way to prepare.

Somehow we are finding our way as we pick up the pieces. With the help of family, friends, church family, strangers, acquaintances... We are finding our way. I am forever indebted to the pure generosity of so many and we are eternally grateful. 

After 10 years, I am learning how to find my way and find myself. I am learning how to make decisions for myself and my children without the help of Ben. When you meet your husband at just 17, you quickly go from leaning on your guardians to leaning on your spouse for decision-making. You work as a team from sunup to sundown. Learning how to make decisions without the approval of others has been empowering and uplifting; confidence-building.

Four months. It hardly seems possible. But one thing is for certain, I am proud of how far we have come in just four short months. I am proud of how close we have become, how strong our faith has become, how confident and empowered we have become. Being a solo mom, not by my own choice, is most definitely the hardest task I've ever endured. But, somehow we are surviving and surviving well; all things considered. If someone would have told me, four months ago, that we would be where we are today, I would have punched them in the face. I would have taken it as an insult... But we have truly have come a long way, albeit a long way to go still, but nevertheless, I am proud of where we are today.

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Until next time, friends