From “we” to “me”.
One of the hardest and possibly the weirdest transition in this journey of widowhood is the change from being part of a “we” to being just “me”. I find myself saying things like “We have electricity” or “I am so thankful we have a gas fireplace in case the power goes out”. The thing is, unless I have a mouse in my pocket, there is no longer a we; it’s just me. It took a while, but it hit me that I am living alone for the first time in my life at 54 years old. I moved from my parent’s house to college, got married right after my first year of college, had two children living with me when I got divorced, and then married Tom. So I have always been part of a “we”. Now I am just me. I miss being part of that “we” with Tom. I miss having someone to discuss things with and make plans with. I just miss Tom. There are just so many nuances to this whole thing that I guess you can’t imagine until you are going through it.
One of the hardest and possibly the weirdest transition in this journey of widowhood is the change from being part of a “we” to being just “me”. I find myself saying things like “We have electricity” or “I am so thankful we have a gas fireplace in case the power goes out”. The thing is, unless I have a mouse in my pocket, there is no longer a we; it’s just me. It took a while, but it hit me that I am living alone for the first time in my life at 54 years old. I moved from my parent’s house to college, got married right after my first year of college, had two children living with me when I got divorced, and then married Tom. So I have always been part of a “we”. Now I am just me. I miss being part of that “we” with Tom. I miss having someone to discuss things with and make plans with. I just miss Tom. There are just so many nuances to this whole thing that I guess you can’t imagine until you are going through it.
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