Changed

On the outside, it isn't noticeable. Every day, however, I wake up and wonder who I'm sleeping with. I've discovered so many "new" parts of me since his death. Strength, anger, joys, anxieties, fears that weren't there before. Part of me says this is a maturity, a sort of growing up; another part of me feels like a little kid, learning life all over again.
Cancer scares the hell out of me now. I've seen it up close and personal. I walked the path of death it brings. It is silent and painful and powerful. It is sneaky and tricky and uncontrollable. Because of this my heart races at the word. The old me would have calmly looked for treatments. Confidently sought out the cure.
Outsiders see confidence. I get to see the inside. Shaken, insecure, scared.
I question almost all of my moves and motives now. I am selfish. It's a means for preserving what little my daughter has left. It's tough to care but I force myself to be the best mom I can be. When she is not around, I'm allowed to sit and explore my heart and soul. This would be one of those moments. Down into the broken heart to uncover what else changed.
I love differently. Moment by moment. Money doesn't matter.
I live differently. A little on the edge. Impromptu camping trips. Exploration of the world around me. Building friendships into teamwork. Loving friends like never before.
I'm very intimate with pain. Let it be is my motto. Don't try to control it. It's a part of me.
I'm learning to give myself permission to just be. Me. Broken. Changed. Beautiful. Human.
There is no super power to me. Just a humanness. Feelings. Thoughts. Fears.
One day I will die. What I used to think was important is no longer important. Being a good wife is no longer a priority. It looks like I've got time on my hands. I better find something constructive to do, rather than continue down this rabbit hole.
This is the new me.