Some Things Aren't in a Book

Since I lost my husband I have met an incredible number of widows. 

Is that because I recognize them more now that I am a widow?

Maybe.

Or could it be that in nurturing them in their pain, I unknowingly minister to my own grief?

Each time I meet a woman who has lost her husband, there is a connection that could not be explained to me in any book. I have become sensitive to where they are in their journey of life. 

We can't fully understand what someone else is going through unless we have experienced it. We can have an idea, and we can care very much about someone else's trial, but to fully comprehend it; not really.

I never understood what it felt like to be a widow. Now I do. And it hurts. It's confusing at times. It's too quiet at times.

But mostly, everything is new ALL the time. Without my husband it's as every day has to be a learning experience. Normal has become a quest for the "new" normal.

Learning to live life together when I got married to the love of my life was challenging, as it is for most couples. It's normal. As I look back at those times I complained about the silliest things. "How could I possibly spend the rest of my life with someone that does this or that differently than how I do things?" 

Do you remember? Sometimes I wish I didn't. But that too is normal and part of the process. You loved them and they loved you. That's the memory.

Come to think of it, that wasn't nearly as difficult as learning how to live without the love of my life. 

Keep a kind word tucked away in your pocket that you can use in an instant for someone's need. We needn't be fearful of knowing the right thing to say when all we have to do is be kind.

Webster defines nurturing as the process of caring for and encouraging the growth or development of someone.

Do that.

Do that with passion.