As I have mentioned previously, one of Matt's lasting gifts to me was the gift of peace. He was such a thoughtful, kind, thorough husband and human being and, as such, he truly did have nearly everything done before he left this Earth. We had the funeral plots selected, the type of burial service chosen, knew all the pallbearers- if it was to be done, Matt and I had talked about it and made decisions.
However, as a man who's last few texts to me before passing included information on our taxes, you know he would have most definitely left me a list of things to follow up on after his death. I did not find this controlling or demeaning, rather the opposite. To me, this list of to-dos brought me comfort. Pay taxes - check. Call the Social Security office - check. Follow up on his student loan - check. One by one, every last box on his list was checked off.
There was, however, one "to-do" that was only spoken amongst a few people. Make sure she's happy - make sure she finds someone - I want you to move on. Matt and I had talked at length about dating again and starting over. Our conversations were honest and tender and everything he wished for me, I would wish for him over and over. I remember him asking his friends as they came to his bedside near the end of his life to make sure I was okay. To keep an eye out for me.
Somewhere along the way, I added the verbal "find someone" to my written to-do list in my head. I was doing everything on the list not only because it needed to be done, but because I wanted to keep my promises to Matt.
About a year after Matt's passing, I started to think about dating again. My first date was with a long lost friend and we met for dinner. As someone that had not been on a first date for 22 years, this was actually terrifying. I had no clue what to do. My last first date, I think I had a Motorola with an antenna and was picked up at my home. Now all these years later, I was supposed to share my location with my closest girlfriends and I was learning terms like love-bombing, gaslighting and ghosting.
I have been on eight or nine first dates since that first one, and have talked to a handful of other people that I never ended up meeting. Dating as a 47 year old woman is, to be frank, really just a lot of fodder for stories over wine with girlfriends, with a few unicorns popping up here and there.
I have learned so much about myself along the way. I have learned that I really have a fear of loss. I would expect this to be true as a widow, but I have learned that this fear of being alone, of not being found again has resulted in me dating men that I would not have considered pre-Matt. By this I mean, the way they speak to women, and about women, their lack of empathy for my situation (I mean, who tells a widow that their public sharing of Instagram stories with their late husband makes HIM uncomfortable!?). One date revealed on our second glass of wine that he was in fact not divorced, but still married and was shocked when I didn't want to see him again. My last first date was in March and I haven't really had a desire to keep putting myself out there. Dating, or at least MY dates, left me doubting my judgement, doubting my confidence and self worth.
As I have been simultaneously trying to start over on the dating front, I have also been struggling for a year or more with the question of, Who am I? What is my role now? I have been a caregiver for so many years. First as a mother, and then for my husband as he slowly declined. By the time Matt passed, my small children were now two teenagers that had their own cars and could drive. They were independent. They didn't need me as the mother role I had only known. At this point, I am more of an adult chaperone in the home as well as an ATM. My role and my purpose were shifting - but to what?
I know logically that I am, and will always be their mother, but to put things in perspective, Cooper and Ada were in First Grade and Kindergarten when Matt was first diagnosed with cancer. When he passed they were in Tenth and Ninth Grades. So much of their existence I was a caregiver to their father, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.
Since Matt's passing, I have often felt untethered - floating around. I am often second guessing myself - is that the right decision? What would Matt do? My confidence has taken a nosedive, and I am often times unsure of what to do, or who I am now. I am, Allison, Matt's Widow. I am Allison, Cooper and Ada's Mom. I am Allison, Mike and Carolyn's daughter, Elizabeth's sister.
I have been so focused on making the kids' lives happy and perfect, overcompensating for my guilt that their dad is no longer here. I have been manifesting a fear of screwing everything up, finances and big-time decisions like selling our house, and I think ever since his passing I have very, very slowly, forgotten who I was pre-caregiver and pre-cancer. I am so worried about messing up as a widow who is living without a playbook and trying to do everything right, that I have forgotten or minimized that I am Allison, Who Owns a Small Business with her Friend. I am Allison, Who Trained for a 10k Without Ever Running Before. I am Allison, The Friend That Will Style You For An Event or Is An Excellent Text Ghostwriter for Her Friends. I am Allison, Who is So Much More.
Today, I stopped to see Matt. And for the first time in a long time, I spoke to him outloud. I assured him we were all doing well. I was excited to share that Cooper was accepted into Kansas State today - a potential Fourth Generation Wildcat!! And then I brought up the elephant in the room - or at least to me. The list.
Matt? I have come to tell you I am checking off the last box on the list. And I am not sure why I have been so worried all along, but the person I have got to find, to be happy and to truly live again is me. I want to be the person you met, the bold and confident and self assured Allison. It's my time to stop minimizing all the bad ass things I do everyday because I am so focused on the things I get wrong or screwing up this beautiful foundation you set out for us. I am so focused on my fears that I have lost sight of all the amazing things I do and can and will do. All the things you believed in me. I want to start living by my list. I know that this is what you would want for me all along. The rest will fall into place once this last box is checked.
And so I write, with tears in my eyes, that I am going to check that last to-do off starting today.
XO, A
Comments
Post a Comment