The following post was written in February of 2015.
I remember very vividly my grandmother telling me how I inherited her widow’s peak, the v shaped hair at the very front of the hairline. She went on to predict that both her and I would lose our husbands one day because of this genetic marker. I always considered my grandmother to be a wise woman so I believed what she said about me being a widow. Still I chalked it up to superstition hoping for a better outcome. But my grandmother was right, my grandfather preceded her in death and my husband preceded me on January 29th 2015 at the young age of 38 years old.
My husband and I met on January 31, 2003 and we remained together for the majority of that time with a one year break in our relationship back in 2006. We married in April of 2009 and had our son in August of the same year. My husband was a private man but what I will say is he loved me and my son very much and despite any differences I always loved him.
In recent months I had decided to make the hard decisions to let my husband focus on himself more because for me everything I did to help him improve his health my efforts were in vain. My husband had been sick for just about our entire relationship but even more so after 2010, heart disease being the primary cause. For years I nagged and dragged and investigated and verified how he care for himself. I would make sure that he went to the doctor, took his meds, filled his prescriptions and many other things too long to list.
My husband being a stubborn pain in the ass always found a way to do whatever he wanted to do, His life motto was “No man woman or child will tell me what to do”. Well my husband continued to disobeyed doctors orders far too long and last August they warned him that one day he would just drop dead and my husband’s response was to make jokes. I will never know why he didn’t heed the doctors warnings. But it resulted in him dying as it was predicted.
Now I am not saying doctors are the end all be all but what he had required major medical attention on a constant basis. Prior to my husband’s passing I grew angry at him and went into survival mode taking steps I needed to focus on being a single mom as I realize his fate was inevitable. Me and my husband tried our best co parenting and fighting along the way but the love was always there. One of the last things I said to him was I would always love him and I really hope he was taking care of himself. We made plans to hang out for the superbowl but those plans would never come to fruition.
My husband has been put to rest for a week now and everyday I think about him and all the things I had hoped we would experience together as parents. This week our son lost his tooth and we were looking forward to it, on “tooth watch” if you will just before he passed. My husband will also miss our sons next talent show coming up, we both have a love for music so we really enjoyed watching our son perform. I can go on writing an encyclopedia filled with all the things he will miss.
Knowing my husband won’t see our son continue on in these milestones of life is one of the things that causes me the most pain and random outburst of crying spells everyday. I will miss my husband and sons relationship because him living and being a father was most important to me than anything in the world. I will miss watching anything zombie with him, trashy reality tv, talking about work woes and so much more.
I still feel insane every day and wonder what the purpose of all this was for. This being, getting married and having a child only to be faced with raising the child alone or without the feedback and support from his father. I wish I could go and take a vacation, me, my son and a private tutor for him. I wish all my bills were paid while I was gone just to have a long time to clear my mind.
My husband used to say our son was his receipt of having walked this earth. That he is because in so many ways my son reminds me of his father and some days that is painful and other days helpful. I don’t know what lies ahead for me outside of my grief, I am like a manic depressive (not literally) being upbeat and happy one minute and unable to function the next minute. I see comfort in writing and in talking with others relatable to me. Being a widow is not easy in fact it is quite impossible but this is the reality I will embrace one day at a time.