Are we broken?

I read a beautiful blog the other day, where widowhood is compared to being broken. It planted a seed in my mind, and I reflected on it for weeks. Am I broken?

I think there are some tragic stories where husbands and wives are ripped apart; brutally and unexpectedly. They go to work or to the shop and they don't come back. This is unimaginable even for me.

Our case is different, Julien was peeled away from us, slowly withdrawn from our lives. He was in hospital pretty much most of the 11 months he was sick. He lost his hair, he lost weight and by the time he died he didn't resemble himself. I watched, helpless. I cried but I had time to tell him everything, the apologies, the declarations of love. I was there from the beginning to the end. 

I prepared for the inevitable crash when I became solo. I came to realise that having time to prepare is a precious gift, one that some people in the same journey don't have, it also means that I don't feel broken. 

Are we work in progress? Maybe, I don't have the answer.

We are missing a huge chunk of our lives, we are not as carefree as before, we have definitely changed but we are not broken. We are not broken and I refuse the notion that I am raising broken children, yes we need love, understanding and compassion but we are not broken. We live with loss and grief, but I don't want grief to be the sum of our existence. We are so much more, we are not broken pieces that need to be put together. 

This is what my life looks like, I do all the chores that should have been split between two and do all the celebrations that should have been enjoyed by four.  I do all these even when I am tired, even when all I wished was to have a quiet moment to myself or my heart feels heavy because he is not here to share. If that is not strength of character and resilience then I don't know what this is. 

 I am also the person who stares into space and thinks why... why do we have to be three, why did we lose Julien? I am not one or the other, I am both, the good, the bad and the ugly. The griever and the challenger. 

I wish I didn't have these complex conversations with my children about loss, illness and being resilient. I wish that my role was reduced to consoling them after a break up or if they had bad grades but unfortunately I am the one guiding them through the loss of their dad. Yes there is sadness, and how could it not be when my children lost their dad when they are only 4 and 7.

Their dad should walk them to the aisle, he should teach my son to drive, he should have the talk with the boyfriend, he should help my son shave. This one person that meant so much is not here, but despite  all these challenges I am here, putting the pieces together.