There was a time when I had mapped out my life. I pretty much knew what I was going to do, where I was going to be and who I was going to be with. That of course, was an illusion.
There is our plan and what life throws our way.
This whole “widow” situation that I absolutely abhor wasn’t at all in “my plan”, as a matter of fact, we had always thought of a ripe old end for the two of us, alas, that was not meant to be.
So, this is where I am. It’s been over a year now; however, I’m not much closer to discovering myself than I was on December 23rd.
This new ball game has distorted my reality. At the same time, I’m getting over that haze that I have been in for almost 3 years.
When tragedy hits you, you keep on going. You live, you laugh, you work, you manage, but there is a certain mechanical you do what you have to do because you need to do it whilst not really being 100% fully aware of what you’re doing other than being immersed in your tragedy, that you know is fatal but you can’t or won’t or don’t see its true existence, nonetheless, it is there.
I’m rambling.
After 544 days without you, I’m just starting to see what this new life and this new me is going to be. It’s tragic, but it’s liveable. It’s sad, but it’s the new reality. It’s unexpected, but there’s no going back. There’s no alternative other than moving forward.
My friend Tess, such a wise woman, said, “It’s YOUR TIME! You are no longer a daughter, a wife, a mother, a teacher, you are back to basics. You are the true you, you have the opportunity to be the person you intrinsically are although you were forgotten for a moment because you were part of another. But the another is no longer a part of you, so you have to be you!
You will always carry an unconditional love; the memories of a life well lived with a person you treasured and who cherished you.
So no you’re alone, but he’s still there, in every song you shared, in every smile, in every joke, in every laugh, in every cuddle, in every intimate moment you remember. He isn’t gone, he still lives with you and through you.
He will never be forgotten because he lives through our love and our memories.
I missed saying happy Father’s Day to you. I missed us having our little moment, the present, the toast.
You were here in our hearts and our memories.
Sobre la vida y aprender lecciones de la manera difícil
Hubo un tiempo en que había trazado mi vida. Sabía bastante bien lo que iba a hacer, dónde iba a estar y con quién iba a estar. Eso, por supuesto, era una ilusión.
Está nuestro plan y lo que la vida nos lanza. Toda esta situación de “viuda” que absolutamente aborrezco no estaba en “mi plan”. De hecho, siempre habíamos pensado en un final a una edad avanzada para los dos. Lamentablemente, eso no estaba destinado a ser así.
Así que, aquí estoy. Ha pasado más de un año; sin embargo, no estoy mucho más cerca de descubrirme a mí misma de lo que estaba el 23 de diciembre. Este nuevo juego ha distorsionado mi realidad. Al mismo tiempo, estoy superando esa neblina en la que he estado durante casi tres años.
Cuando la tragedia te golpea, sigues adelante. Vives, ríes, trabajas, gestionas, pero hay un cierto aspecto mecánico en ello. Haces lo que tienes que hacer porque necesitas hacerlo, sin estar realmente 100% plenamente consciente de lo que estás haciendo, aparte de estar inmerso en tu tragedia. Sabes que es irremediable, pero no puedes, no quieres o no ves su verdadera existencia. No obstante, está ahí.
Estoy divagando.
Después de 544 días sin ti, estoy empezando a ver cómo será esta nueva vida y este nuevo yo. Es trágico, pero es vivible. Es triste, pero es la nueva realidad. Es inesperado, pero no hay vuelta atrás. No hay otra alternativa que seguir adelante.
Mi amiga Tess, una mujer muy sabia, dijo: “¡Es TU MOMENTO! Ya no eres hija, esposa, madre, o profesora. Estás de vuelta a lo básico. Eres el verdadero tú. Tienes la oportunidad de ser la persona que intrínsecamente eres, aunque te olvidaste por un momento porque eras parte de otro. ¡Pero el otro ya no es parte de ti, así que tienes que ser tú!
Siempre llevarás un amor incondicional; los recuerdos de una vida bien vivida con una persona que valorabas y que te apreciaba.
Así que no, no estás sola, él todavía está ahí, en cada canción que compartiste, en cada sonrisa, en cada broma, en cada risa, en cada abrazo, en cada momento íntimo que recuerdas. No se ha ido; todavía vive contigo y a través de ti.
Nunca será olvidado porque vive a través de nuestro amor y nuestros recuerdos.
Eché de menos decirte feliz Día del Padre. Eché de menos que tuviéramos nuestro pequeño momento, el regalo, el brindis. Estabas aquí en nuestros corazones y nuestros recuerdos.
About Carmen Medina
Carmen is a 66-year-old widow who is living in Spain. She was born in Vancouver, B.C., Canada to Spanish parents. Since 2019 she has been living in Antequera in the south of Spain. She was married to Barrie Eggington, her soul mate and love of her life till he passed away on December 23rd, 2023, after a long battle with lung cancer.
Thanks to Hope for Widows, which she found online just a few weeks after his passing, Carmen found a group who not only understood what she was going through when few others did, but also solace in her sisters in grief, a place where she could express her feelings and find the resonance she needed.
Carmen has been an English teacher and teacher trainer for over 30 years in Europe, the Middle East and North America. She still teaches English and is the principal at the government funded language school where she is currently working. She spends her time with her daughter and grandchildren. She goes to the gym every day, loves the beach, particularly Torremolinos where she reminisces about the time she spent there with her late husband.