While searching for an old link, I read through some of the posts that I wrote in the months immediately following my wife’s death. I was a mess. I made some really bad decisions. I wasn’t thinking clearly at all.
Fortunately, even though my posts didn’t convey it, I made some good decisions that first year. I credit this to good luck more than strong character but I’ll take what I can get. I could have done much worse.
One thing I didn’t do was kill myself even though I often wished I was dead. I no longer feel that way. Now that it’s nearly 5 years since my wife died, I feel “meh…whatever ” about not killing myself.
I suppose I should be glad I didn’t.
I’m not glad I didn’t. Nor am I sad I didn’t. It just is what it is.
I feel good that I stayed alive to take care of Snickers for 4 more years and was able to provide her with a pain free, gentle death when it was time.
My friends tell me they are grateful I was around to listen to them during their struggles over the past 4 years.
I know my mom is glad I didn’t kill myself.
I think part of my ambivalence is because I no longer have a deeper purpose driving me. I enjoy my life most of the time. It’s rewarding, calm and challenging with very little stress.
I love Wiggles.
I like how I have structured my days.
It’s good enough.
It is different though to live without being driven by a greater meaning and purpose. I wonder if I’ll ever have one again.