A safe place to feel sad.

It's a year today since my husband, David, died.
What a year it has been.
I sometimes catch myself thinking, well, I survived a year, so can it all be restored now? A good experiment, but I am tired and ready to return to being one of a couple, one of five.

Part of my gut wrenching despair is the realisation that this is for real, for ever. I need to start dealing with that a bit more seriously.

The undertaker returned David's wedding ring to me before the funeral, and I slipped it onto my necklace that is itself a symbol of marriage in Malaysian culture. The weight of that ring was heavy at first, like my heart, and slowly I have become accustomed to it. Again, I guess, like my heart.
No one can remain in a state of extreme happiness, and similarly, try as you might, you can't remain sad either. Children, pets, friends, nature, music - they all intrude on the most determined state of sadness to remind the "sufferer" that life goes on regardless. I don't feel guilty at not wearing black for the last year, nor walking around looking distraught, for I have learnt a lesson this year. Live and love life to the best of your ability, and recognise the strength provided by God through so many people..... and that it's okay to be sad some days.

I found last week so hard with flashbacks of my funny and kind husband's last days. I had sone immense work pressures, but could barely think straight. It was tempting today to find a corner and curl into it, but instead, I woke from the fog on this anniversary determined to accept an invitation to join the friends who have surrounded me closely this year.
I couldn't stay too long, but it was worth the 2.5 hour drive each way to sit round the fire, laugh, accept hugs, drink tea, give my kids a cuddle (before they disappeared back with their friends) and then head home again.
How can I thank them all for holding me up on bad days and letting me fly on golden days?
Thank you to friends near and far, for you all help one way or another.