Five months, already

January 17 to June 17 is five months already. Five months without the love of my life. Sadness still consumes me.

Sometimes I think of how widows have managed for hundreds of years before me. I should be so lucky, to at least still have options and opportunities to remake my life, even if Frank can't be part of it. Widows in history, and even today in other cultures, haven't had the chance that I've got to rebuild and go forward on a new path.

With widowhood comes a drop in social status and a new personal identity that we never asked for. I know I've got the ability to work my way through both of those -- though neither will be easy. At least I am surrounded by an emotional safety net of fabulous family and friends. Widows in other countries and cultures don't necessarily get even that much, and dispair fills their lives instead.

I still cannot imagine how the rest of my life will unfold, but I feel fortunate that I am "just" 52. If all goes well,  hopefully I've got a robust 30 years still ahead. Rather than internalize that "Woe is me," I have come to realize that I still am in charge of the rest of my life. I also don't have the limitations that widowhood at an older age might bring.

Right now I am still working through the day-to-day priorities of getting resettled into a new house in a new town. I have deliberately piled on top of all this first-year stuff the responsibilities of getting through a Master of Leadership Development degree, as well as running for the Maine House of Representatives. Meeting with success in both endeavors is the plan, but neither will happen without daily diligence. Meanwhile, remembering Frank with fondness is the best part of every day.