The Young Widow - The Rise

Alone and distant
Surrounded by dark clouds
& yet it's radiate fire still glows
Creating beauty
In it's difficult rise
Toward the heavens
I aspire to mimic her
The days of my life
Until I have fulfilled
My calling here.

I continue on this path, not aware of what is in front of me. Not knowing what is to come next. There are good times and bad times. Highs and lows. I guess that is true of all of life's situations, although they seem to dance together more for me now than they have ever done for me before. Much has changed for me since that day in September 2011. Still, so much is the same. It is like I am stuck in Sept. It does not feel like it has been four months for me. My heart is like a child. It does not seem to know that you are gone. It still looks for you and waits. It does not care what my lips have to say or what my eyes have seen. It seems that the unconditional nature of my love for you will live on and on. Your presence on earth does not seem to be a requirement. I feel that my life will be long. I feel that this love story will live in my heart as an old woman.

Through all of this, there is still a rise. It is very slow and often differs in force and brightness but it is there. Some days, I work hard to rise only to be greeted by an eclipse of emotions that remind me to let it claim the day. I can see a tiny bit of the future. I have a want again. I want for a simple life. I want for a legacy. I want to be a good example of a good life and of love for my daughter, our angel. I can't say that I don't backslide. I can't say that I am not tired and the work is not hard. I can't say that it feels real to me or that it does not feel impossible. I can't say that the days are easier or shorter. I can't say that I am getting things done or making remarkable accomplishments. I still watch days and weeks pass by me. They don't feel long or short. I don't feel them at all. My genuine smile is almost back. It doesn't come to me unless it is drawn out by something. It is not like before at all. It doesn't feel gleaming or huge. It is no longer a beacon (not yet anyway). I used to wear it all day, everywhere. I laugh at what is funny. I enjoy the enjoyable. I struggle through reminders. I balance the bitter-sweetness. My frustration with normality and the view of people missing the big picture has diminished a bit. It is still a nuisance and upsetting, but I am no longer envisioning myself trying to slap them into reality anymore. The blatant waist on all the meaningless, while very sad, does not set me off anymore. This is a step forward. These are small sunrises in my life. Daily rise, daily fall. What the sun often does, the moon undoes. Strength and weakness. The daily dance. All you can do is breath as another day goes by.