Widowhood devastated my assumptions about the present and the future.
Almost seven years ago, on a cold, sunny afternoon, I sat alone in front of a church and had a vision of my mind shattering into deep plum shards in a black expanse. Some flew away, others spun in place, still fragile. Terrified, I didn’t know what I was losing, what was left, nor how I was supposed to reassemble these loose fragments.
It was, and remains, a puzzle full of puzzles. Assembling them is my healing journey.
I’ve found the last piece of one of those puzzles.
Kristen and I will be getting married this year. It will be the close of a journey I thought might never end. In Kristen I have found new purpose, new future, new present, and a deeper love bourne out of deeper healing.
I will always be a widower. I will always carry Mary in my heart. The turning of this page will be as bitter as it is sweet. And, as with all my joys, it will come with the reminder of horrible cost.
Some are, fairly, saying I took too long. But I had to get this right. I had to let my heart prepare. I had to wait for God to clear the path.
The path is clear and my heart is full. God willing, we’ll becoming ancestors to generations.
