Two Years Ago My Old Life Ended and My New Life Began
The days move along and love carries on.
Two years ago yesterday Ed took his last breath, and in that instant our life together was over. I didn’t realize it then but I had been grieving for our old life for at least a year before he died. I wouldn’t admit it to myself but I should have known as he failed day by day that we were moving toward the end.
His diagnosis of terminal lung cancer came as a complete surprise only nine days before he died. I took him to the ER for what I was sure was pneumonia, and it was, but the X-rays showed a huge, spreading mass on his lung—inoperable and deadly.
I was grateful that he didn’t have to suffer through a long and scary bout with cancer. His slowing down seemed natural to him (but not necessarily welcome). He chalked it up to old age. Neither of us suspected it was anything that we couldn’t handle. While he had been treated successfully for A-fib and sleep apnea for decades, he was otherwise pretty healthy for his age—until that last year. He hadn’t had a chest x-ray in years. There was no reason to have one.
How long had the cancer been there? Nobody could tell us, and in the end it didn’t matter. The deed was done. It took him.
I’ve written before about my widowhood and my grief, and I wrote last September about my plan to leave our beloved cottage on this beautiful island and move into an apartment in Petoskey. Well, after many twists and turns and many delays, it looks like it’s finally going to happen.
I’ve signed a new purchase agreement with the same wonderful family who made the original offer, and, after being on the waiting list for months, I’ve signed a lease agreement on that apartment I want in Petoskey. If all goes well I’ll be pulling out of here around the first of May, saying goodbye to the life we’d made here for the past 30 years, and moving on.
Moving on. Scary words, but thrilling in a way, and given my own advancing age, it’s now or never. Who starts over alone and in completely new territory at 86? I don’t know and I don’t care. I do. I will. For as long as I can, wishing with all my might that Ed were with me, but this next chapter will be mine and mine alone.
Fingers crossed. I’ll keep you posted.
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Beautifully written with love and acceptance for this time in your life. You are very brave to be moving on with such grace. It’s not an easy time of life, but attitude is everything. Good luck to you!
Always honest and relevant. Ramona, Your strength, modesty, and perseverance are inspiring.