Here is the problem with admitting that you may be beginning to feel the gentle rays of happiness in your life again after the sudden and untimely death of your spouse:
You say: “I may be beginning to feel the gentle rays of happiness in my life again after the sudden and untimely death of my spouse.”
People’s internal Google-translate hears: “I am over my husband’s death and have finally moved on! Dig your wet-look leggings out of the wardrobe and let’s have a P.A.R.T.Y.!”
So I’m relying on you to turn your Google-translate off and really listen to the words I am saying.
I may be beginning to feel the gentle rays of happiness in my life again after the sudden and untimely death of my spouse.
Who knew, right?
I didn’t think the word ‘happiness’ would enter my lexicon again, but there it is, nestling in nicely alongside those old stalwarts, ‘misery’ and ‘devastation’, with its jaunty double, double consonants.
Perhaps I didn’t give the New Year enough credit for its capacity for ‘renewal’, but the further I edge into 2014, the more determined I feel to start living again.
It is almost two years since Mark died, and it feels like both a lifetime and the blink of an eye. But what would He say if He thought I were still here, stymied by grief, feeling guilty about making the next move?
“Haway, man, Pet,” He’d say. (You may refer to Google translate here).
Don’t get too excited, mind. This does not mean the ache goes away, nor the tears, nor the moments of worthlessness. In fact, I may be back to square one tomorrow.
Today though, I think what it means is that the grief and the trauma have taken enough. I just want to be happy.