In the three months that have passed since Renee left us, I've had the opportunity to connect with dozens of folks like myself who, at some point, have suddenly become members of a club that we would have never intentionally sought out membership.  A fair number of these people have lost a spouse as part of the natural progression of life, but many like myself, were stripped of our partners long before their time. 

The interesting thing is the variety of ways people deal with life after the unthinkable. The way each individual processes and reacts to their new situation seems to be as varied as the colors of a kaleidoscope. That being said, I don't believe there is any one right or wrong way to go about the adaptation into the life of a widow/widower.  For some, the transition is relatively fast and for many others, the process is much slower, sometimes evolving over a period of years. Some occupy their minds by staying/becoming busy, while others draw inside themselves, preferring isolation and solitude to let their mind do its work. Some find new hobbies, some find new love, some find new vices, and others just can't seem to figure out what to do.  Far be it from me to advise on the correct way to handle it, after all, I'm just an infant in this process myself.  Personally, I'm not overly concerned with finding all of the answers just yet, at this point, I'm still trying to figure out what all of the questions are.  I think a lot of how you handle this kind of devastation depends a great deal on the individual set of circumstances that thrust you into this situation in the first place.  

However, there seems to be one point that most all of us are in agreement on.  This changes a person.  I don't think there is any reasonable way to ever expect you'll emerge from the fog as the same person you were before.  Sure, there will be parts of you that carry on, bits and pieces of your life that you can never shake.  Unfortunately, it seems that a lot of what made us whole is peeled away in the process, painfully scraped off and discarded in the past.  It stands to reason though, we have lost a large hunk(sometimes the very best part) of what made us who we were.  But, I think as we go, we start to pick up little things, surrogates if you will, for the things we've lost--band-aids to cover the scars we now carry.  Some will be good and others will be negative, and the best that we can hope for is to somehow find a middle ground, a balance of sorts that lets us carry on the way we all know our spouses would want us to.

It hasn't been easy, but even throughout these early stages, I think it can be done.  I'll never be exactly who I once was, but instead, I'll need to focus on the new version of myself.  There's still so much work to be done rebuilding a life and ensuring her legacy lives on, but boy, I sure am going to miss me...