Just How Tragic Is It?

I play alot of mind games with myself. I believe it is a coping skill. Some days I wonder if everyone does this or just me. My latest is to try to convince myself that having my 42 year old husband die in an accident isn't as tragic as I make it out to be. I wonder, why after 2-1/2 years, can't I accept it and get a move on with my life. Why can't I feel better inside than I do? Afterall, there are others in my shoes. There are others who are much worse off than me. It could be much worse than this, right? Right. I should be focusing on what I do have, not on what I don't have. I don't want to get caught in making my life all about his death and the fallout. I don't want to be the kind of person that is always feeling sorry for myself or defined by this one event. That would only lead to becoming the type of person I don't want to be. Won't it?

And then the bolt of lightening hits. The truth is, this is right up there. This is bad. I don't have to make this out to be tragic because it is. He was my life. He taught me how to love. He was my best friend for 24 years. We were attached at the hip. We relied on each other for everything. He was my family. He was my past, present and future and he was ripped out of it in a nanosecond.

So I will let go of the mind game for a moment and deal with the truth. It's very tragic - for me. My life was defined by him while he was alive, so I will continue to define it by his death too.

I am Heidi, loving widow of Jack.