What Next?

I am happy. I am sad. I am laughing. I can’t stop crying. Mostly I am tired. Tired of taking my mental temperature fifty times a day. Tired of living within my head, carrying on a conversation that never ends. I keep asking, “When will this be over?” This being a weird mixed state of shock and awe, sadness and happiness, despair and hope.

I am waiting by the side of the road for happiness to come my way again. What will it look like? What will it feel like? I’m not depressed, just sad but not, thank goodness, all of the time. I’m also expectant, resilient and still confident that I have a deep capacity for joy. I know I must be patient but that, for me—a doer, a problem-solver—is the hardest challenge.

I’m no stranger to loss, not frightened by change but this is different. 41 years of my life, my marriage, died one sunny morning in August. When I picture my marriage to Steve, I see a huge, rambling structure created over long periods of time. It’s full of odd shaped rooms and funny passageways but comfortable and comforting to live in. Now it’s gone. What next?