They say you should give yourself at least a year after losing a loved one before making any major decisions. I can’t say I agree or disagree with that statement, because one size, after all, doesn’t fit all. Although you have to wonder who “THEY” are, I’m sure it’s some expert, or someone who has gone through this never-ending journey “THEY” call grief.
You do go through all those stages of grief: Denial, Anger, Depression, Acceptance, and one I can’t truly hit on, Bargaining. I really had nothing to bargain with because his death was quick and very sudden. Otherwise, I experienced them all in one way or another, at different times and levels.
Our life there in Harlingen had been, what seemed like, a long one. We liked our subdivision. Our son, Shane, had done well at the high school, you know, football, girlfriends, Cotillion with a girl, not once, but twice. We had a wonderful church family that we loved. My husband went from being a deacon to an elder. I was a deacon’s wife.
Mitch had a job working on rockets, a job he loved and was very proud of. I had owned my own business, running a Tea Room in the nearby town of San Benito. I was very busy in the community, not just in my town but in San Benito as well. I knew everyone, and everyone knew Ms. Paula, who owned the only Tea Room in the local area. We truly were a huge hit at that time. I loved who I was and who I had become in my neighborhood.
Oh! Did I tell you I was in a beauty pageant? Again, not once, but twice, Ms. Senior South Texas Pageant. What’s my point here, you may ask? No, I’m not tooting my own horn. This was our home, his and mine. Now, I am widowed and alone. There is no “his,” if you will.
I felt like a prisoner in my own home because no matter where I went, someone would ask, “Where’s Mitch?” if they hadn’t heard. Or, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Of course, they had to ask, what happened? What will you do? Do you have family here? I had no answers for any of those questions. Plus, I was now a widow. How awkward for those who knew me for all the things I was before losing my husband. What do you say to “Mrs. Paula who owned the little Tea Room”? How should they ever approach her now? I just couldn’t take it. I didn’t want the pity. No, I don’t want to talk about it. No, there’s nothing you can do.
We all know how a celebrity feels when they can’t go anywhere without being bombarded by the press, wanting to take a picture or ask questions. That’s exactly how I felt. Not as a person of high standing, but as a widow, broken, and unsure if I would ever heal.
So, I left.
Some may say I ran. But it wasn’t them, I promise, it was me. I understand that yes, I was loved, and yes, I know they cared. But nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I just couldn’t process any of it fast enough.
I am a widow. YES, I ran! To begin again…
