A Time to Grieve

If my marriage had survived, I would have been married 22 years on Friday.  I wonder how long I will calculate the years.  We often do this when we have lost family members.  "Granny would have been 97 if she were still alive."  Even more disheartening, "He would have graduated from high school this year."   It just seems to be a natural thing to do when we have lost something or someone that meant so much to us.

I try to convince myself that the single life has its perks, and actually it does.  I tell my friends how nice it is to not have to answer to anyone.  I do enjoy being able to make spontaneous plans and not have to clear them with anyone. But, the reality is that I will always grieve the death of my marriage. Time makes it easier.  Many people told me this and they spoke the truth. It is like a deep wound.  Over time it heals and there is only a scar left.  With months and years, the scar even fades. Yet, it never goes away. If you look closely, you will still see it, ever so faintly.

My marriage was so ingrained into who I was and who I thought I would always be, that the "would be" anniversary will be difficult for a while.   However, the key word in that sentence is "was." It is over and I must continue to move forward. I will acknowledge the grief, but I will not to live there.  I am going to get up and work my way through the mound of laundry across the room.  I am going to put some color on these gray roots that are beginning to show.  (A good color job always makes me feel better!)  Tomorrow, I will go to the beach with two dear friends that always make me laugh.  But, first, I am going to close out this blog and give myself a few minutes to grieve.  I will not grieve alone.  I will share my cares with God.

1 Peter 5:7 (New Living Translation)
Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.