Two years ago tomorrow my husband died. It has also been a year since I posted anything on this blog. I needed a break and I'm sure you needed one too. As I read previous posts, it was obvious what a tough time I was having. The writings seemed so sad and dark. I hope this one is a little brighter.

First of all, I changed the name of this blog. Moving on is the theme. It's time. I don't know how often I will post or if I will ever post again, but in the weeks leading up to this anniversary date, I have had an overwhelming desire to put some of my thoughts down before they slip out of my mind. Humor me.

This year my ability to reason and make major decisions is back to normal. Sound crazy? You would think it would be easier to make decisions when you don't have to confer with anyone. But it was extremely difficult for me to venture into this area on my own. It was so not like me. The day after the anniversary of Year One, I woke up renewed. The hindrance of uncertainty was miraculously gone and soon after, I decided to buy a house. Not to be outdone by being able to make such a major decision, I soon entered into a six month commitment of doing nothing but the act of making decisions. A six week remodeling project turned into six months as I designed and remodeled a house that is so "me" that I can't believe I didn't do it sooner. I am now living in this dream house and look forward to the many new memories I will make here.

Next, I spent the last year attempting to reestablish some semblance of a social life. I surround myself with a tight group of friends that love me and have my back. These are truly caring people. The ones that I thought I would always be able to rely on are not the same people that stepped up and are now in my inner circle. Tragedy does that and some people just don't know how to react to you now that you are a separate person than the one you were as a couple. I don't hold grudges, it just surprises me.

Finally, I have decided that this is my year of saying "Yes". I will try my best not to say no to invites. "Do you want to go to dinner?" I will say Yes. "Do you want to fly to New York for the weekend?" I will say Yes. "Do you want to go to San Antonio just to eat lunch?" I will say Yes. "Can I introduce you to a friend of mine?" I will TRY to say Yes. I have to remember that is how I met Al.

Does the pain of losing a loved one get easier over time? I have to say that it does. It doesn't mean that I don't love him anymore, it only means that I am learning to live without him. The first year it was hard to even look at pictures of the two of us together. Now, I have those same pictures prominently displayed in my new home. They bring back memories and when I want to talk about those memories, I remember that the only one that can remember it like me is him. It is easier and easier to overcome those realities.

I have learned a valuable lessons this year. Grief is a process of finding comfort. Grief doesn't have to last a certain amount of time. I remember that I told myself that I would grieve for a year and then move on. I found out that it doesn't work that way. Two years later I am still grieving, but I am also finding that comfort. Just because I now laugh doesn't mean I have forgotten Al. It only means that I can live with the reality that he is gone. Widowhood is a lot like adolescence. It is a time of uncertainty and transformation, but eventually, you will blossom.

Here's to a year of blossoming and moving on.