Some people might wonder exactly why I’m writing here, telling my story of woe and despair. I don’t blame them. Who wants to relive the moment that their life was changed forever, in such a negative fashion?

I feel as if I have no choice.

I am a writer. Not just by vocation, but also by nature. Every heartbreak, pain, and struggle I’ve had in my life has been written about ad nauseum, to help me cope. It is my own version of therapy, to take the constant conversations out of my head and release me from them.

I’m also here, because I want people to know a little bit more about a few things. For instance, the affliction that killed my husband was congenital, and although women are twice as likely to suffer a brain aneurysm as men, I want couples to know the warning signs. I want them to recognize what to look for, in order to give them just a little bit more of a chance than my husband had. Our ignorance helped expedite his demise, and I just don’t want anyone else to have to deal with what I’ve had to deal with. In the 11 days since his death, I have lived a thousand years, and I will live a million more before we are finally reunited. I wouldn’t wish this pain on my worst enemy.

I would also like to call attention to young widows and widowers. We are a rare breed; part of a 13 million person group in the United States. As the war in Iraq has continued for the past 5 years, our young fathers and mothers have been taken from their families, and have left them to deal with the pain and loss of their contribution; their lives. Right now, most bereavement support groups in my town deal with widows who are older than fifty, with grown children and a more established life. Do they suffer as much as a younger widow? Yes, absolutely. But they have more support than most young widows do, and if you’re a young widow/widower who isn’t in the military, the support is significantly less.

So I’m here to raise awareness to the woman and man, the husband or wife, who has to pick up the pieces she has left of her life, along with keeping a strong resolve to protect and raise her young children without the partner she envisioned her life to include. And for men, this can be insanely tough. Even in our more modern society, women generally rule the home, as men rule it’s upkeep. To become a provider, a nuturer, a single parent and not have to break down every single moment is equally hard for both sexes.

This is why I’m here. I’m here because I’m seeking. I’m seeking answers, as to what to do with the rest of my life. I’m seeking connections with other widows/widowers, to help eachother understand what we’re going through. And I’m seeking a new life. I cannot live my old one, no matter how badly I want to. My husband needs to be in the picture for that to happen, and he is no longer here.

On a side note, I am a Christian. A lot of my words will be Christ-centered, although I won’t lie and say that I am using this for a ministry of some sort. Sometimes, I may be angry, and I don’t claim to be the best Christian on the planet. As a matter of fact, I’m probably one of the worst. I was so wishy-washy with my faith in the past few years, I feel as though I missed out on a wealth of strength and growth before this even happened. As it stands, I am left behind for a reason, (I believe), and I am crawling back to my original faith, trying to learn what it is that God has for my life.

If you have an issue with my faith, I ask that you keep it to yourself. I claim my right to subjectively keep your opinions to yourself, because this is MY blog, and I will mourn and grieve the way I see fit. I don’t care what you say about me on other blogs or other forums, but here, I will say what I want. I will believe what I choose, and I will subject myself to God’s control and purpose for my life.

I hope I can help people with this. But mostly, I hope I can help myself. It’s been 11 days since I last kissed his mouth, felt his arms around me, and listened to his voice. And the days will continue on, until those things fade. All I can do is memorialize our marriage and relationship in words, to remind me that I once had the world in my hands, and the skies at my beckon. I never want to forget.