46. Sailing on an Emerald Bay

I dropped a tear in the ocean, and the day they find it is the day I will stop loving you.
~Anonymous

As I was scrolling aimlessly through an album of online photos the other day, I stopped at the picture a good friend of mine had posted of sailboats on the Cape Cod bay.  The skies were slightly cloudy and overcast, just as they were on the day of my wedding.  Heartache isn't just a word - my heart literally hurt looking at that photograph.  Half of me wanted to be there immediately in a little house on the shore where I could look out my kitchen window and see miles of ocean and boats and hear the laughter of happy people on the bay.  The other half of me knew I could never live in a place that would serve as such a constant reminder of that beautiful June day.  It would be like living with a never-ending tidal wave of memories and tears.  They say it takes twice as long as the length of the relationship itself to truly "get over" someone.  That translates into  a little over eight years for Jon and I, but for a man of his caliber, it may very well take a lifetime. 

The picture also reminded me of the Billy Joel song "Lullabye" that we requested be played at Jon's wake and funeral service. Whenever I hear the following verse, I think of Jon and I swimming in the ocean in Jamaica and of the little paddle boat we took out to sea one afternoon on our honeymoon (with Jon doing most of the paddling). I smile to myself while trying - and failing - to fight back the tears:


"Goodnight my angel, now it's time to sleep,
And still so many things I want to say.
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay?
And like a boat out on the ocean,
I'm rocking you to sleep.
The water's dark and deep inside this ancient heart
You'll always be a part of me."

In an effort to break from unhelpful strategies in tackling my grief, I'm now embracing my widowhood as much as humanly possible.  I'm going to a conference in California this fall at which the founder of the American Widow Project is speaking about how her experiences as a young war widow have made her a stronger and more resilient person.  I'm attending the Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation Camp Widow next spring in Myrtle Beach (so what if it's a week before my final exams?  I'm slowly realizing that it's not worth putting meaningful life experiences on hold just because the timing is not ideal).  And I'm finally checking off one of the locations of my long to-do list of vacation destinations when I travel to Aruba with a group of girlfriends in February.  I admit that I'm sometimes a little envious of the women who seem to be able to accept the loss of their husbands, pick up the pieces of their broken lives, and commit to remarriage without feeling as though they're being disloyal to the life they're forced to leave behind.  I guess that's just not me.  I find myself identifying more with those widows who are in no rush to "move on" (ah, that dreaded phrase...) and may, in fact, never feel ready for another relationship.  Someone once told me that it's okay to still have feelings and needs - my husband may have died, but I'm still here.  While I don't discount the merit in what she was trying to say, priorities shift and "needs" change as time goes by, especially following a loss of this magnitude.  As I look at the things these women do to honor the memories of their heroes while staying true to their marriage vows, I think to myself, man, I should have followed their example a long time ago - these ladies have the right idea!  In resisting the impulse to jump too quickly into a new relationship that cannot compare to her once-in-a-lifetime marriage, the widow who chooses celibacy can say with pride that the last man with whom she shared any form of intimacy was her beloved husband.  Looking back, I wish I could say that too.  My rushed, foolhardy attempts to find love again in all the wrong places were simply not worth the cost.  Since I can no longer have that kind of intimacy with my husband, it's looking more and more like I'm better off without it at all.

Speaking of which, in case it wasn't obvious already, I'm happy to be able to say that I feel none of the emotions I thought I used to feel for my ex-boyfriend, DS.  I regret that it took me so long to listen to the nagging feeling in my gut that told me something just wasn't quite right, but thank God I figured it out eventually.  If I were ever to run into DS again on the street, I'd literally just turn and walk the other way because, at this point, I have nothing left to say to him.  I've said it all here, and it's helped immensely to get it off my chest in a way that's not self-destructive and has ultimately proved to be somewhat therapeutic.  The only thing that continues to irk me every now and then is the way he manipulated and took full advantage of my vulnerabilities.  I get so angry when I think back on the web of lies I got sucked into, and it makes me more determined than ever to avoid such an unhealthy, emotionally abusive situation in the future.  For better or worse, it's also left me feeling very wary and distrustful of seemingly well-intentioned gestures.  As a result of the way DS used me physically for his own personal satisfaction (and then continued to insist this was not the case), I've noticed I now flinch and instinctively pull away whenever a man comes into any physical contact with me, unless of course, it's a family member giving me a hug or a handshake with someone I've just met.  It's funny, actually - DS used to tell me he wanted to ensure that he wasn't exhibiting any of the bad habits or behavior I associated with my previous boyfriend because he didn't want me to have to relive that miserable experience.  As it turns out, though, DS was about 100 times worse.  After I broke down and told my parents everything I'd uncovered about DS's lies, my dad jokingly asked me if I still had that other guy's phone number because, compared to DS, he really wasn't all that bad!

So for all my fellow widows out there who are resistant to diving head-first into the dating world because it simply doesn't feel right, stick to your guns, ladies!  I love you all, and you continue to inspire me every day.  I can say with newfound resolution that the only man's touch I wish to feel is my husband's.  Who's going to tell me that's wrong?  There's no book or manual that tells any of us how to do this.  The best we can do is to walk the path and hope that the speed bumps are just temporary road blocks along the way.  As long as they don't slow us down forever, we'll continue to pick ourselves up and keep trucking along.  And no one, not even the worst of ill-intentioned, manipulative ex-boyfriends, can ever take that drive away from us. If losing my husband did not completely destroy me, then having my trust trampled by a man who's now on my good-riddance list, won't destroy me either.  Jon, you're my proof that there truly are good people out there in the world - sometimes you just have to weed through a bunch of bad ones to find them.  Like Billy Joel so famously said, inside this ancient heart, you'll always be a part of me.  Please help me, baby, as you always have, not to lose sight of that as I tackle future speed bumps.  And until the day when we can sail together again on a beautiful emerald bay, please wait for me so that I might feel your touch once more...