Smiling. And meaning it.

A few months after Jon died, I was having a conversation with my cousin about how I wasn’t sure I would ever feel full happiness again. I had been able to smile and laugh, but there was always an underlying awareness that Jon was absent from my life and that diminished the joy of whatever was happening. I still feel that way, to a degree, but I don’t feel the heaviness of it as much anymore. And I’m grateful for that. I miss Jon all the time. I’m always aware that my husband is dead. I never forget that my children’s father isn’t around for all the events and milestones in their lives. I’ve also been able to continue my life and find things to be happy about. I recently changed my profile picture on Facebook to one from the cruise. I like how happy I look in it. When a couple of my widow friends commented on the joy in my face, I remembered that conversation with my cousin that was so long ago. For me, this feels like progress. Remembering my grief, but not letting it rob all the joy I’m having is a gift. And I’m grateful for good times and good memories.