We're Gonna Make it After All

Dear John,

 

I'm no longer crabby. I slept well and have turned back into my normal self.  

 

We had a lovely autumn day. It was a bit unexpected in mid-May, but here it is. The temperature tonight is supposed to be in the 30s. I no longer feel guilty about not having my flower boxes planted.

 

I've been thinking today. It appears that I am making some progress in this new life that you so inconsiderately left me with. For the first year it was so hard to be alone - to not have anybody ask how my day was, to not be essential to anyone. This afternoon I realized that I've become accustomed to those things. I don't have the kind of confidant that I had with you, but I'm okay with that now. I am just me - no longer part of a "we" - and I've grown comfortable with that.

 

I do hope that makes sense. There is still a hole in my life, but I don't fall into it as often as I used to. And I would rather have the hole than try to fill it with anyone but you. I am content being on my own and waiting to be with you again.

 

I am completely responsible for myself now; I don't have you to share that responsibility with. And I have indeed learned that I'm more competent than I thought. I can do the taxes, change lines in the trimmer, start a new career at almost-60, and install water heaters. I can even take care of abandoned baby kittens. I can survive being me, not we. And even though I travel solo, I am not alone. Most women walk this road. And I have my lovely group of widowfriends with me. We're all capable. We are strong; we are resilient; we are courageous. Maybe we're gonna make it after all.

 

Yours always,

Joan.