My Husband Matt…
I am at a sheep and wool festival this weekend with people who don’t know my husband is dead. They don’t know how much I enjoy talking to them. Because there is no pity in telling them a Matt story there is only laughs and happiness. I can pretend he is not gone just for a few moments. Then there are the people that knew him that want to tell me how sorry they are and how shocking it was. Well I don’t want that pity I want him to be alive and by talking about him as my husband he lives for a few minutes.
I bought another sheep. Let’s just say I already have more than I need. The last time I was at this event Matt was alive and I did something similar and told him after. This year there was no hiding a sheep and pretending that I didn’t spend way more than I should have. My husband is not here to hide it from.
Women are coming into the booth talking about hiding purchases from their husbands. We laugh as I say when I would go to Maryland and come home with a new project every year much to the disapproval of my husband. There was the year my mom said she paid for the project I suspect he knew that wasn’t entirely true.
My husband was who Matt was and I was his wife. Now I am confused about who I am. I am no longer his. I am a wife without her husband, her support, and her love. My therapist said I need to figure out who I am but that is the thing I know who I am. I am just missing a small piece.
I am a strong independent woman, creative, strong, loves animals, being outdoors, and playing games. The problem is I was and always want to be his wife. But my husband is not alive, so how am I a wife. The problem with being a young widow is just that no one expects you to say that. But you are so young is the answer I get. Well yes, I am and he was 37 when he died leaving me a widow at 32.
Matt was my first boyfriend, first love, first everything. He was the man I married and planned a future with. Matt was my husband and I was his wife. But now I am a wife that only sees her husband in photos and dreams. Who freaks out when I have to tell someone he has passed. So instead of saying my late husband I just tell my husband Matt stories. But with healing comes awareness.
My Late Husband Matt…
It has been a year and I still struggle with saying, my late husband. I talk about Matt all the time and I have realized for a while now that I talk like he is still alive and well. Today I was talking to a coworker and I was telling him about my sheep buy and how it differed from 2019 that I no longer have to worry about hiding a sheep. He responded why is that? And the panic hit of shit he does not know that I am a widow that Matt died. I went on like that question was not asked because I did not have it in me to share that again.
I need to start saying, my late husband. Last week I started talking to a guy that I met and we seem to click well. This week I am planning on going on a date with him. He knows that I am a widow and that I never want to marry again. I don’t hide that from guys who want into my life. It is important to me that they know that my husband died and that is why I am even looking to date and also why I need to start slow. I prefer a casual relationship that could turn into more.
Matt will be my forever husband and I will be his wife. I am no longer against moving on but I know it will take time and there will be days and moments where the fear of death will pop in and I know I will freak out. I had commitment issues before Matt. He just stayed and did not give up.
He tore down the walls I had built up and proved there are guys out there that can be different and stick around. Now I am putting my heart back out there. Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting Matt. It does not mean I love him less. What it does mean is that I know that Matt is in my heart, he is my husband and he would want me to be happy, he would want to see me laugh and smile. And to be fair I am not comparing new guys to Matt because no one can replace him as my husband.
I lost my husband 2/4/20 fatally killed whilst riding his bicycle
” I am no longer his. I am a wife without her husband, her support, and her love. My therapist said I need to figure out who I am but that is the thing I know who I am. I am just missing a small piece. ”
I think most of us feel this way. You aren’t missing a small piece; you are missing a large piece.
I don’t think I’ve used the phrase “late husband” yet. I just say, “My husband” and tell about things in past tense. Yes, I feel like he’s still my husband.