"It comes down to love..." (Kara)
So here I go...where it leads I do not know
The only reason I am blogging is because I love to write, and I think I have learned a few things in 45 years.
Two years ago September 5, 2015 my life, as I knew it, was obliterated.
My husband of 20 years was killed in a car accident. It burns inside me and I feel sick to my stomach even when I type that. It is disgusting. It is unfair. It is wrong.
But the fact remains...Drew is gone.
There is no starting point because there is no ending.
I try desperately to make sense of something completely senseless. I will never have answers to the questions I feel will complete me. I am on a journey of faith and maybe sharing it will help someone, somewhere. If not, I am not certain there is much of a point to any of this.
I have forever tried to find a deeper meaning to life, what is my purpose? How will I leave my mark?
I think I learned early on that what you are "supposed" to do in life is live your dream. You have a dream and you spend your life or the majority of your life, working to see it come true. But what if that isn't how your life turns out? What if you struggle to find that one, big dream? What if the dreams you thought you had are taken from you?
I am learning about grief and I hate that I have to. I never wanted to know as much about it as I do. Maybe what I've learned most of all about grief is that it is eternal. I did not comprehend this before.
And yes...there is a before and after. For me, it is before the accident and after the accident. My old and this life.
I heard Marianne Williamson, a spiritual teacher, say that once you experience grief you have x-ray vision into other peoples' pain. This is ridiculously true. You do not know until it happens to you. That is not to say that you don't have sympathy or empathy for others going through struggles. I distinctly remember hearing about women losing their husbands. Unfortunately I am somewhat surrounded by a number of women who have experienced this loss. But I recall learning about each one of these situations and I felt beyond terrible. I remember calling my sister and saying what the hell, why does this happen? What are these women going to do? I was truly affected and struck by these losses.
I prayed and still pray for these families. I made a vow to myself that my family would pray for them always. That seemed like something I could do. They weren't really my friends. I think I maybe wrote them a note to let them know I was thinking about them.
My heart was heavy for them. And though it "affected" me and my life...it didn't really. I didn't know then what I know now.