As of this Saturday March 2, 2019, I will have been a widow for seven years. I hate the words “anniversary of my spouse’s death” because for me the word “anniversary” has a positive connotation. There is nothing positive about death, especially when it came before a person’s time.

In some ways the past seven years have flown by and in some ways they have dragged painfully on. Sometimes I have difficulty remembering what I refer to as my “old life”. It seems so long ago that Gordie was next to me on the couch watching a favorite TV show. Yet, if I close my eyes, I can transform myself to our blue couch in our Colorado home with The Sopranos on our TV and almost feel him sitting next to me. It seems forever ago that he texted me “what do you want to do ‘bout dinner?” However, when I am at work, I can fixate on my phone and almost expect a text from him to pop up. It seems like more than seven years ago that he said something to make me laugh but I can hear his voice without even having to close my eyes.

Seven years ago March 2nd, I remember lying in my bed after he was gone and thinking I will never make it through this.

During the first year and even the second year following Gordie’s death, I still felt like I was doomed for failure that I would never escape the grief of losing Gordie or succeed at being a solo Mom.

Ironically, it was a quote from one of our favorite movies, The Shawshank Redemption, that compelled me to get my shit together and get on with things.

Get busy living or get busy dying.

Gordie and I loved The Shawshank Redemption. We mostly loved it because we viewed it as a beautiful story about friendship. We also loved it because it showed the power of never giving up and never just accepting your circumstances or fate. During the first year following Gordie’s death, I was surfing the channels late one night when I was avoiding going to bed, and came across The Shawshank Redemption. At first I skipped over it. I thought watching it by myself, with Gordie gone, would be too much for me. But then I turned back to it and watched it. I remember the two lines that stood out for me that night as I watched lying under a blanket with only Ralphie, my Jack Russell, next to me in my quiet house while my boys slept.

Get busy living or get busy dying.

I miss my friend.

After the movie was over, I sat in the darkness of my family room for a long time, crying, missing Gordie and wondering how I was going to get to a better place. I whispered out loud:

“I miss my friend.”

And then I heard Gordie’s voice.

Get busy living or get busy dying Stace.

That night was a turning point for me, among other turning points over the years. But whenever I feel like I want to give up, when I feel defeated by my not so easy life, and when I am just having a bad, bad day, I remember that quote.

And yes, seven years later, I still have bad, bad days. I still yearn for my old life. I still miss Gordie all the time. I still bury my face in the few shirts I have of his hanging in my closet. I still pray to wake up and find the last seven years was just a bad dream. I still hate being a solo parent. I still can only handle a “one day at a time” mentality with solo parenting. If I think about solo parenting beyond today, I get stressed, afraid, and overwhelmed. I still miss being married. I still wonder what I did to deserve this. I still lie on my bed some nights feeling a mental and physical exhaustion I never knew before Gordie died. I still fear the future. I still worry about everything. I still fantasize about Gordie showing up on my doorstep with some sort of crazy story about a faked death just like in a Soap Opera.

But that’s not how I feel every day. And seven years later it’s not how I feel on most days. It took a lot of time, a lot of work, and a lot of commitment to that quote from The Shawshank Redemption but I don’t wallow in my grief 100% of the time. I don’t wish for my old life on a daily basis. I like my life more often than I hate it. I accept my fate more often than I wonder how I got here. I miss Gordie 365 days a year but I don’t cry about him being gone every day. I don’t touch his clothes all that often. Sometimes I forget they are there. I live intentionally instead of just going through the motions. I still live very much in the near term with an apprehension and distrust of the future, but ultimately I have been busy living.

Dying was never a choice for me. Although I did consider suicide, it was never a real choice for me. I would never have done that to my sons. So, I knew I had to get busy living. Living and gettin’ on was my choice. I absolutely believe I would have made a different choice if I did not have kids. I don’t think I would have ended my life but I think I would have lived a different, reckless life, taunting fate. But the best gift Gordie ever gave me was two sons and I was not going to mess that up.

I follow several widow/widower pages on social media. I read posts from people who are in their first week, first month, or first year without their spouses and they are in so much raw pain. They have lost all hope and do not know how they are going to get through the horrible hand life dealt them. Those posts bring tears to my eyes because I was once there. I remember what it was like to feel that way. I want to comment on all of those posts Hang on!!! Don’t give up!!! I want to tell them to find the day when they are ready to make a choice…a choice to live. The day will present itself, it is just up to them to make the choice and to declare out loud…

Get Busy Living.