Time cannot always be measured in days, hours, minutes, seconds.  Sometimes it is measured in tears, heartbeats, and long agonizing nights filled with endless sorrow.
Time is deceptive.  Eight months can seem like ten years, forty-five years can seem as though it passed in the blink of an eye.  Do not trust time.

Do not assume that someday you will feel 'normal' again.  There is no normal. Normal is dead. There is only this one day and how you feel is how you feel.  Tomorrow may be different, but don't count on it, don't look for it.  It will elude you.

I have learned that I am not beautiful.  I don't think I ever was, even though there was a time I had to beat men off with a stick.  It was not physical beauty that drew people to me.  It was something far different.  It was happiness.  When you are loved, satisfied, happy, you project something you are not even aware of.
People see this and are drawn to you.  They want it, or some of it for themselves.  A foolish man or woman may think if they can have that person, they themselves will be happy.  This almost never happens. Instead the one who was pursued for her glow of happiness will lose it once she is away from the man who brought that out in her.  The man who has stolen her away will be disappointed and more unhappy than ever.  No one wins. 

I am not a foolish woman.  I knew full well that the source of my joy, my inner light was Bill.  I was beautiful only because he thought it was so and told me  every day.  I laughed and danced my way through life because his heart, his love played the music I danced to.  Without him I have no charm, no sparkle.  In a completely insane and nonsensical way I have tried to recapture a tiny bit of sparkle on my fingertips.  Yes, I know it's superficial, but it makes me feel better and at this point in my life that's the best I can hope for.

Strangers no longer talk to me or smile at me.  I don't smile at strangers.  I keep my head down and go where I'm going with little fanfare.  I keep to myself.

The people who love you will stick by you, even when you are a complete ass and so full of bitterness you can barely stand to be around yourself.  Don't worry about the others, the missing, I call them.  They will  be back when they want something or have something to gain. That is when you will have to decide if they are part of your life or not.  I know who loves me.  They let me know and sometimes that is with their silence, their quiet support as they give me space to grieve.  Even when we don't speak, I know.

I've learned it's okay to do stupid shit. I don't have to be perfect.  I can go where I want, when I want.  The one person on earth I answered to is gone.  I can say no. I can walk away from a stressful situation without feeling bad.  My 'give a shit' is broken.

I can laugh.  It's not a sin or a sign that I'm somehow over Bill. Yesterday my sister made me laugh, even though I'm sicker than a dog right now.  I thought about all the times we laughed until we cried, all the times we almost got fired for not being able to control ourselves. We had good times, she and I. I will never look at superglue again without thinking of her.

It's okay to cry.  I don't try to hide it.  If it makes someone else uncomfortable, they are free to get away from me.  Grief is a very personal thing.  I never know when something will trigger a memory or something painful.  Tough.  It's just the way it is and it's not going away anytime soon. Deal with it or leave me alone.

I love my children and grandchildren, but I am not a good mother, at least not right now.  I cannot 'mother' anyone.  I can cry with them, but I know I am no comfort.  I cannot fix this.  The fix-it man is gone. I don't have the answers, not for them, not for myself. 

For a while I stopped posting on here.  I got the feeling I was making others sad by sharing my grief.  Because of that I am not going to share this on Facebook.  I'll tweet it for those who follow me, but that's all.

Stevie