My life was once filled with joy and the comforts of normalcy. Before my husband fell ill, I lived in a world that many would consider charmed. Like many privileged individuals, I often overlooked just how perfect everything was. After his passing, I found myself reflecting on what life was like prior to his illness. To piece together those memories, I revisited my Google calendar.
In early October, just before he began experiencing stomach pains, my schedule was packed with events that seemed so ordinary: “Field trip with the kids,” “school autumn picnic,” “guitar lessons,” and “dinner with friends.” It all felt so typical.
Revisiting those calendar entries spiraled me into a quest for clarity regarding his health. I spent time trying to recall a particular birthday party and whether my husband was bedridden that day. I even reached out to friends about backyard gatherings, trying to pinpoint when they learned about his condition. When did our lives take a turn for the worse?
While it’s easy to claim that my world changed irrevocably on January 9th, the day of his death, the truth is, the shift likely began much earlier—around November 29th. That was when my husband returned from the hospital with news that suggested he might have cancer. After speaking with my father, a retired physician, who mentioned the possibility of stage IV cancer, we felt a glimmer of hope, believing that things couldn’t be as dire as they appeared.
After that call, I left my husband at home and headed to a friend’s house to pick up our children. On the way, I called my sister to wish her a happy birthday but kept our medical concerns to myself, not wanting to dampen her special day. However, an hour later, she called back, crying. My heart sank as I realized the weight of our situation. My sister, an ER nurse who had seen her share of tragedies, didn’t need to say much; her tears conveyed the gravity of our reality. Standing in my friend’s daughter’s room, surrounded by innocence, I thought, “This is happening.”
I didn’t express my fears to my husband; he was already anxious, and we needed to get through the night. We fell asleep holding hands, though I struggled to find any rest. Thus began a harrowing six weeks, followed by two and a half months of uncertainty. Was it really only four months since my life felt normal? Or should I look further back to a time before his severe pain and heavy doses of antibiotics? Perhaps it was late September when we went camping, enjoying a beautiful fall day while watching our children ride scooters. That weekend was filled with simple joy, perhaps the last time I felt truly content.
Reflecting on those moments, I realize that life’s blissful periods often escape notice until they’ve passed. Sure, I cherished fun trips and lively gatherings, but the everyday happiness felt mundane, almost invisible. I took it all for granted. It was perfect, until it wasn’t.
Now, I grapple with this “new normal.” How do I navigate each day without succumbing to despair every time a memory resurfaces on social media, or when I face a mundane household task alone? When I witness my children do something adorable, I yearn for my husband to share in that joy with me.
I don’t have the answers. It feels akin to the overwhelming uncertainty I felt when I first became a mother—standing in my living room, bewildered, questioning how I was supposed to care for this tiny being. Now, I feel that same sense of disorientation, only amplified by grief. I once had support from my husband and a network of friends; now, I’m navigating this journey largely on my own.
This blog serves as my outlet—a way to untangle my thoughts and document my experiences. Writing helps me connect the dots between the past and present, offering clarity amidst the chaos. It’s also a means to reach out to those who care about my well-being and that of my children, seeking understanding in this challenging time.
I may not fully grasp how I’m managing, but I’ve come to realize that I have no other choice but to move forward.
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In conclusion, life has transformed in ways I never anticipated. Each day is a step into the unknown, but I’m committed to finding a way forward.