Dessert

It has been one year since I wrote about my experiences of becoming a widow and learning to live again. The stories of family helped me to understand who I was without James. They made me appreciate and cherish beautiful memories. They made me understand what is important. Along with the challenge of getting to know myself, I also needed to overcome the trepidation of living my life alone. All of a sudden I was lost and I was lonely. I was fearful of life without James. There are many reasons that I was able to work through these fears. In so many ways I was exposed to motives that made me think that perhaps I should focus again on living. Most importantly among the inspirations was my children. What an incredible ride we have had over the last four years. Together we have cried and we have grown. My children exhibited so much patience as I took off on this journey. At times I am sure that they felt as though they lost not only their father, but their mother as well. And still they encouraged me to continue my search. They wanted my happiness and they showed such faith that I would find it again. It was their courage that gave me courage. How could I let them down? Family gives strength. Here are a few more reasons that enabled me to finally face the challenges of life after James. Three weeks after I moved to Austin, Texas, Cookie drove 16 hours from Colorado just because he sensed that I was alone and scared. “I am here,” he said. And I breathed a little easier. As I questioned every move I made Hunter assured me that I needed to “listen to myself and march to that internal drum…..it will not steer you wrong. We are all here for you.” And I felt a little stronger. Jimmie told me that he thought I was “so brave and so smart. Just look what you are doing all by yourself!” And I stood a little taller. Mary Claire never hesitated to call and comfort and listen and reassure. Just yesterday I told her things that I cannot seem to tell anyone else. And I felt a little lighter. Walden just smiles and says “There is so much potential here! I can’t wait to see what becomes of it…” And I felt a little more confident. Martin gently tilts his head and says, “I know there will be things that you will not really want to face, but I will not let you go there alone. Call on me.” And my darkness became a little brighter. Randy said, “I just wish I could take some of the hurt away from you.” And my tears dried a little. Pat never strayed far from my side and reintroduced me to friends and fun and laughter. And I felt a little more alive. Grace made me feel like a hometown celebrity as she bragged on my progress to anyone who would listen. And I felt a little more settled. Sallie calls and just says, “I miss him too.” And I feel a little more normal. And when Noni says, “Just look what I started!” I can smile so much easier. I was born number seven of eleven children and I knew I was a part of something special. There is definitely strength in numbers.

Although large families are somewhat rare I did not understand as I was growing up that mine was perhaps a little different. I was, however, convinced that there could not be many people as lucky as I was. I participated in Sunday lunches and grew up in Jacksonville, Texas. I was surrounded by strong parents and amazing brothers and sisters. How could anything be better than that? Then, I met James. Our love grew as did our family and I was absolutely positive that there was no one who was more lucky than I. My kids were beautiful and healthy and my husband was my best friend. Life just could not be better than what I had. But along came grandkids and somehow suddenly life became even sweeter. How could anything be better than this? After losing James, I slowly came to realize that I had already experienced a most wonderful life. No one could take my memories. I could look at my kids and know that James was still around. I could take the strength from family and friends and face life on my own. I could exist with all of this and know that I had already experienced more goodness than most people have in a lifetime. It would be enough and I was no longer scared.

And then I met Wally. There he was in the same unsettled and lonely situation. He found himself suddenly without Judy. She was his anchor, his soul mate for over forty years. Together Wally and I forged a bond over common ground. Much stronger, much braver, and much more confident than I, Wally was such a beacon as he began his own new life. He made me smile. He made me dance. He made me want to wake up and want more from each day. Wally made me see that the nourishment of all of those special Sunday lunches from long ago left me strong. He taught me that even though I had participated in many perfect lunches during my lifetime, no meal is really complete without dessert. It did not take me long to understand that only the best of desserts could follow a meal that had been as fulfilling as the ones in which I had participated. Never could I have imagined that dessert could be so special. I know that James and Judy will always be a part of who we are as Wally and I make our way together. They will be remembered at every Sunday Lunch and I know that we will feel them smile as we finally feel strong enough to sing and dance in the kitchen. We are ready now to enjoy the greatest of desserts. How could anything be better than this?