It's been a while since I've written. I've been busy with both the day job, painting and volunteer projects, but perhaps I just needed a break from my relentless self psychoanalysis and needed to attempt to enjoy life again by just feeling instead of thinking. A new friend was discussing his personal situation and my husband's death with me over lunch and it seems we have in common the need to research and read extensively to educate ourselves when confronted with something unfamiliar.
He commented that I must have had to overcome anger toward Tom for dying. Except I never did. I wasn't angry. It wasn't purposeful. I also found that I couldn't relate to what I was reading about how to deal with a death. It didn't really apply to me or what I was feeling. I had already survived more than most people had to deal with in their entire lives even before Tom's death. My perspective was very different. I was left with my own thoughts on the situation. I wanted to move forward with my life. Fate has made a point of beating one single lesson into my head and it is this, "life is fragile–we are only guaranteed this very moment–make it count." I made a decision recently to do so and start dating. For the friends that I have talked to about it, you are pretty evenly split. Some of you are all for it and others think I'm making a rash decision and am opening myself up for more pain or to be taken advantage of. Let me assure you that the logical rational side of me is still firmly intact and in control. Okay, there has admittedly been a little heart denting in this process, but I've got a pretty good handle on it now. I won't settle just to be with someone instead of alone.
I had already gone out with a couple people when I'm informed that my company wished to present a Lifetime Achievement Award to Tom at our National Sales Meeting. I was asked to design it, accept it and speak. Upon hearing this, I am simultaneously honored, terrified and angry. It was truly a wonderful gesture and I do appreciate it greatly, but I am terrified of public speaking, though I apparently do a good job of disguising that as I'm actually speaking. Mainly though, I was a little angry that almost no one seemed to realize the potential to reopen wounds. To me this was essentially another memorial service...people speaking about his life, showing the video compilation of our life together...I didn't really want to go through this again, not now that I was moving forward. I knew everyone's heart was in the right place and I felt compelled to go through with it. If not for me, then for Tom's brother, Paul, who was flying in to attend.
I didn't sleep the night before, rewrote my speech 4 times and tweaked wording right up until a few hours before the presentation. I stood in front of the mirror in the hotel room and read it over and over out loud until I no longer stumbled over the words. When the video began playing, I could see the tears in those around me. I was determined to hold it together. I had planned to watch the video about 20 times beforehand to make myself somewhat immune to the content, but I hadn't. I tapped my foot nervously, staring down periodically at my piece of paper just wishing it was over, but my favorite picture came up. You know, the one that makes everyone laugh, Tom eating surrounded by the fur-kids evenly spaced in a semi-circle around him staring at the plate...cat, dog, cat, dog, dog...I can't help but smile at that.
It was finally time for me. I walked up to the podium and was nearly overcome by the thunderous applause. Though I felt I didn't deserve it. This was Tom's award. I do know it was to show support for me, for my loss. It was appreciated. I even made you laugh. You don't know how I agonized about putting Tom's joke about us working together in there. I wondered if it was appropriate, but in the end it felt right to me, so I left it in. Once I began talking, the anxiety diminished greatly. I was determined to do the best job I could for Paul, for Tom...and for me. I don't regret it. My fear was that if I didn't speak, that I would regret.
I felt solemn the next day, not sad so much as introspective. Was it the right decision to move on with my life? I will always love him, but my heart still has room. Fate's lesson has not fallen on deaf ears. So I take control of the reins and ride forward into the unknown.
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About the Painting:
"Sky Waves"
4 feet wide by 16" high
Acrylic on Masonite board
$1,495
When my sister and I were driving home from seeing the building where we had Tom's service, this was the scene before us as we turned into my development.
