Taking Stock for the Journey

In the days since Tim's death, I have mentally divided our future into various sections. Some of those sections have passed very quickly. The wake and funeral was one piece that came and went almost before I'd had time to think about it. I've also dealt with death certificates, life insurance, social security and health insurance. In fact, most of the paperwork is either complete or well on its way to completion. I've even passed the first couple big milestones - the boys' first Father's Day without Tim and the first observance of our wedding anniversary without Tim. But now I've reached what I feel is a true fork in the road. My first real steps down a path that don't include Tim and it's a little scary. We have reached the end of summer vacation.

I think I mentally set aside this summer as a time apart. A time with no agenda and no rules. I allowed myself to drift, doing only what needed to be done and no more. Although I occasionally wish I had a job as a way to provide a little structure to my life at this time, I am generally very happy that I am not working and do not need to work for at least a little while. I have felt free to do whatever seemed right for the boys and me. I have focused on trying to make their lives feel normal and safe.

But summer is over now. We are entering into the season of soccer practices, band concerts and book reports. As the boys move into a new school year, I feel compelled to move on with my life. Yet I'm not sure what to do with myself. I am afraid to commit to activities outside my home and children because I worry that such commitments might interfere with my children's needs. I am afraid not to have outside commitments because without something pulling me out of myself, I might have too much time to sit alone on my couch and feel sorry for myself.

Up until this last illness of Tim's, I had a plan for my life. I felt that I knew where I was headed and how I was going to get there. I liked that plan. I wish I still had that plan. But it's gone, just like Tim. He took it with him when he died. I haven't made a new one yet. I'm not sure where I want to go and I sure as heck don't know how I'm going to get there.

A month ago, the Sunday gospel was the story of how Jesus sent his disciples out on a journey and only allowed them to take sandals and a walking stick. During his homily that Sunday, Fr. John spoke about having the faith to undertake a journey where your destination is unknown and you can't take anything with you. I think of that homily often, as I feel that I am on that sort of journey. I try to hold fast to the thought that God will provide for my journey and I will arrive safely at my destination.