With this ring....

All through this grief process, this journey that is completely unique to me, I've been adamant about listening to my heart. If I over think things, if I do what other people suggest I should do...well that will only lead to struggle and regrets. When someone you love dies prematurely you gain a whole new perspective on many things. Regret seems to be at or near the top of the list.

I've been trying to dip my toes in the water a little more lately. I really do want to engage in life again. I sat at the cemetery last weekend and thought about so many things. Mostly I thought about how my life has been since that horrible day in the hospital. I thought about the path I have taken so far. I thought about my choices I have for the future.

There are literally hundreds of different choices I can make that will alter the course of the rest of my life. But it actually boils down to only two general directions. I can stay miserable, sad, despondent. I can do that while still appearing to function. I can just "show up" to life without participating. That's exactly what I've been doing for the past 8 months and 3 weeks. Sure, I've had a few fun times during that period. But for the most part, it's been a torturous experience....breathing, existing, surviving. And then repeating it again tomorrow.

Then there's my other option. I can begin the process of letting go. I have no doubt it's a very long and complicated process. And a very difficult one. But if I want to live again, if I want that excitement and joy in my life that I used to have, if I want my smile to reach all the way up to my eyes...well, then learning to let go is my only choice.

So I sat out at the cemetery last weekend and told Chuck that I need to choose to start letting go. I told him that I can't go on being this miserable. It really is no way to live. No way at all. And it's something I don't want to experience for one more day. It not only hurts me, but it hurts everyone who loves me. Of course if I could have anything in the world, it would be to have him back here...to have our normal lives back. I would choose to not be in this situation of making these choices in the first place.

But I am.

And so I must.

I can only hope that once our spirits are separated from our bodies, we gain a new understanding. That it's all about love and wanting those we love to continue to grow and laugh and love...and live. To live fully and completely. You see, I still worry about hurting him. If there was even the slightest chance that he'd come back, I would sit here and wait. I wouldn't change a thing so that way our lives could pick up right where we left off. Even if I had to wait 50 years, I would be okay just simply waiting. The hope I would feel would be enough to keep me waiting patiently. But there is no hope of that. So my only hope is that he truly loves me enough to let me go. That he trusts in me enough to allow me to move on. That he wants nothing more than to see me happy. He swore he would die for me. I wonder if he would've ever agreed to let me go if that's what I truly needed to be happy. Selfless concepts. The ultimate sacrifice. All in the name of true and undying love.

So on Monday, 265 days after I lost him, I made a conscious decision to do something I never thought I would do. I took off my wedding ring. For the first time in 13 years. My first, perhaps biggest, step in letting go.

I cried. I told myself that it's a trial. That if I got too panicked, I can always slip it back on. I was sure it would be back on within hours. I haven't put it back on yet. It's sitting there on my dresser...just in case.

From the very beginning, I swore I would always wear it. Until the day I die. It's strange how much grief changes you. Or at least changes your way of thinking and seeing things. I love that ring. I love all that it stands for. (Not stood for...stands for.) It's meaning and symbolism haven't changed. Which is why I felt the sudden need for removing it. The love still survives. The bond will always be there in my heart. But the marriage is over. It's over in the eyes of the law and it's over in the eyes of God. Until death do us part. We fulfilled our vows. We saw our marriage to its completion. I'm so proud of both of us to be able to say that. We made it to the end. But now it's over.

To continue wearing my ring would mean I'm trying to grasp tightly on to something that doesn't exist anymore. Not him...the marriage. I don't need a physical object to remind me that he existed and that we loved each other. That part is embedded in my heart. He is part me and I am part him. If I continue to mourn him every minute of every day until I die, will that somehow prove to everyone how much I loved him? I don't feel the need to prove anything to anybody. I will always know the love in my heart. To let go proves something though. It proves that I've taken everything I've ever learned from him, especially his strength and perseverance, and am applying it to my life. It proves that I am beginning to understand that our love was so much more than a marriage certificate and a couple of gold bands. Our love made me the person I am today.

I don't want to live my life in a way in which, when I die, people will say, "She never moved on after losing him. She never stopped wearing her ring. She cried every single day for what she lost and she was never truly happy after that. She had 20 great years with him and that was it. She actually stopped living the year that he died." Instead, I would like people to be able to say, "She lived through one of the worst things that could ever happen to a person. Sure, she changed. But she didn't become jaded. She learned how to enjoy things in life again...maybe even more than before. She talked of him fondly and often...smiling and laughing as she recalled all of the years they shared together. Even through her pain, she was so grateful that she had him for as long as she did. And then she made the decision to get back out there and live. She knew that his influence on her life could only make her future brighter. His legacy lived on through her."

I used to think that letting go of the intense grief meant getting rid of the memories and trying to forget the love. But I'm learning that letting go doesn't mean getting rid of anything. It's not about giving up or giving in. It doesn't signify weakness. Letting go is quite the opposite. It takes strength and a quiet determination. It signifies a desire to stand up and live again after being knocked down. It's about being secure in knowing that the love and memories will always remain. And that you don't have to hold on to them so tightly anymore because they aren't going to disappear...no matter what. The love will always be there. With or without a ring.

Whatever the future brings, I hope he will be out there...somehow guiding me, encouraging me and cheering me on. When he was alive, I believe he wanted what was best for me. Why would that change now? He didn't ever want me to suffer. He didn't like to see me cry. He knows I need to start letting go. I think he understands. Our marriage has come full circle. The love behind it is never ending.

It's time for me to start living forward now.

It's time to start laughing, seeing, going, doing, experiencing, enjoying, smiling...

It's time to let go.