I no longer understand the vow, “til death do us part.” That was supposed to mean we were together for the rest of our lives, like it or not. But what it meant was we were together for the rest of his life, two and a half years, but now my life stretches in front of me without him. Alone.
He’s been gone for almost 10 months, tomorrow is our anniversary, and I don’t feel one bit less married to him. I don’t want to be one bit less married to him. It’s just a part of this I’m not ready to accept.
I’ve moved my rings from my finger to my necklace recently. But I may move them back. He’s still the best man I’ve ever met and if I can’t be his wife, at least I can be his widow.
My life is seeming to make less and less sense everyday. In my old job, my old world, everyone knew what had happened, many knew Shah, and though I’d returned to work, it was with full awareness that I’d recently lost the love of my life.
In my new world, few know me and even fewer know what happened. I find myself walking around the capitol surrounded by people who seem to not have a care in the world outside the bills being passed and all I can think about is life and death, his murder and my grief. I know others have loss and grief, I just don’t know them yet.
I’m glad to be doing what I’m doing because our goal is to promote policies that will support life from conception to natural death. Life, the thing that was taken from him.
I know other things are important as well, but as soon as people start talking about anything less than life my inner eyes start to glaze over and my thoughts return to my love.
But it’s hard to remember others when I wait all day for my bill and I just want to scream, ‘my feet hurt, but husband was killed, and I need to go nurse my baby, can you please just call my bill number and let me go mourn!’ It’s a very limited mindset and I’ll be the first to admit it’s hard to look past my own cares. It just feels like, on the eve of my first wedding anniversary without him, I shouldn’t be sitting in the capitol with the rats waiting for a bill. Literal rats, I’m not talking about the people.
It’s just not where I wanted my life to be. But it is where I am and I was also at the capitol the day I went into labor with Zoya, so maybe it was the right place to be.
I want to do my job. I want to give others a chance at life. I want to get to know these legislators and learn what motivates them. I want to join with others who want to protect life and who know life is a gift from God.
But today, I just wanted to be somewhere else remembering my love and grieving his death. I wanted to be getting hugs and kisses from our little girl. I wanted to be somewhere beautiful. But I was at the capitol, putting one foot in front of the other, one conversation in front of the other, one word in front of the other. Maybe one other thing I like about my job is that so much is out of my hands. It’s in God’s hands to work through whomever he chooses.
The bill passed. Many supported the efforts and carried the day. I made it home and tomorrow, Lord willing, I will weep.