Take off

 I always hated take offs, that sinking feeling in the stomach as soon as the plane lifts of the ground. I have travelled countless times and every flight is the same, but I brace for it and think of the beautiful destination, the take off seems less daunting this way.

As much as I don't like being a widow, I don't want to see it as a handicap and I don't want to be stuck in this permanent "take off state".  This is not a journey with a physical destination, but one of self discovery, where I am learning about my desires, weaknesses, and what sort of life I want for myself and my children. The challenge of widowhood is that; the status quo is no more; what I have learned is that you either accept it or you risk being stuck in limbo, unable to see a way forward. 

Van Gogh

I find from talking to others in the same situation that many of us reach for the reset button, that our routines, aspirations and sense of self needs to shift. It does not mean that my love for Julien is no longer here, it will always be present but his absence cannot overshadow me. 

As the early stages of grief subside I find myself opening up more, giving room to life and allowing others to enter, as the walls come down I know that that there is potential for joy and also for hurt and disappointment. It takes courage to live life again.  I don't know how much courage I have, but what I do know is that I want to live my life at a 100 miles an hour. I don't want a sheltered existence, too scared to try.

When I am older I want to look back and know that I took chances, that I cried and that I laughed, the full range of emotions. I wish that life could be simpler, but since life doesn't care about our plans I shall make the most of it.

Julien, thanks for the good times and the bad ones, you will be my treasured memory and I shall keep you in my heart on all my new adventures. You have show me love, wisdom and respect, and now and again I will whisper to you that I miss you but that I must go on.