Sometimes remembering comes at a cost. Since my husband died, remembering is the hardest thing for me. Most days, I can go about my business and not think that this is my real life. Some days, I can just pretend I had a bad dream, a dream that I will awaken from and he will still be here with me. A dream that will end with me waking up and looking at the empty side of the bed and it’s not empty any more, there he is! He didn’t abandon me. He didn’t die.

Remembering always comes with pain. It only sometimes comes with joy. Remembering, though, is the key. Remembering is the key that will unlock my doors of fear, loneliness and anger.

As I remember him, I remember that I am lovable, I was whole, I felt joy, and risked enough to fall in love. As I remember him, I remember that I was worthy of love and interesting, funny, smart. It reminds me that I am still all those things that he loved about me. I am just those things without anyone to appreciate them. I do much the same things I did while he was alive, but no one notices but me. I do much of the same things, but I am profoundly different. I remember who I was and I wonder where I am now.

Remembering shows me progress. Remembering shows me growth. Remembering shows me that I am a survivor. When I can take the time to remember how much I have overcome, I should be proud. My pride should come, but many times only sorrow and pain comes. Even though this pain is present, I must still remember…

Our first glance
Our first smile
Our first kiss
Our first “I love you”
Our first fight
Our first child
Our last child
Our last kiss
Our last words
Our last day together.

When I remember, I honor, I close, I say goodbye another way in another day, making my heart less broken and more whole. When I remember, I give thanks that we were together for the time we had. When I remember, I cry, I ache, I hope, I heal.

On a day that I am strong, when my bravery out weighs my fear, I remember, no matter what the cost.

Christine Thiele 2010