I’ve made it through two graduations, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, and now Father’s Day.

There is something inside me that wants to sit down and count how many holidays (including birthdays) are in a year and start counting them backwards. Like, if I can get through one of each of them, it’s suddenly going to be easier. In the past I’ve heard people say that all of the firsts are the hardest. Now that I’m in this place, people who have lost husbands are telling me, “Oh, no…I feel like the second year is harder than the first…”. I want to say “NO!!! You can’t go changing the rules now! That’s not fair!” because I just want it to stop hurting so much every day.

Not fair…so much is “not fair” about this. When I was a kid and I’d complain about something being “not fair” my daddy would say “Life is not always fair and school is not always interesting; that’s just how it is.” That’s just how this is. It’s not fair.

I’ve complained to God before that it wasn’t fair for Scott to be taken away from here when there are other people on this earth whom it would have been more “fair” to have gone away. Instantly, God said “Jen, that’s all about perspective. He was good, yes. And he is in Heaven, with me. He’s happy, free, worshiping, and in no pain or emotional distress. That’s fair, right?” Me: (grumbling, begrudgingly, under my breath) “Well, I 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 if you put it that way then, yes, but from where I am seeing it, it doesn’t feel like that.” God: “Then shift your perspective.” Me: teenagery (((sigh)))

Sometimes I don’t want to shift my perspective. I want to sit in the “unfairness” of it all and be mad about it. It’s odd that I don’t want to change my perspective because I DO want to feel better. I hate this constant sadness. I don’t want to feel this way forever. But I already know that I’m going to have to work through the fact that I don’t have to feel guilty for feeling better one day. He’s not here to enjoy the things I will enjoy, that 𝘸𝘦 should have enjoyed, so how can I be happy about that? I wonder if he could be up there thinking he shouldn’t be enjoying it there because I’m not there to enjoy it with him yet? Aha…no, he’s not. There is no pain or sorrow there, so there is no guilt. He is happy. He is enjoying it. His perspective has changed.

There is a specific paradigm shift that I need to lean into. A new way of thinking is necessary. I do miss him. I miss him so much each day and in so many circumstances. And yet, I am still here. I have to shift my perspective to a place where I can see this from a different vantage point. If I had gone first, I would not have wanted him to stay sad and be unable to enjoy the rest of life. Of course, I would want him to remember me; remember the love we had, remember the smiles and the laughter and the joy we brought to each other. But I hate even thinking about how sad he would have been.

We were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together.

Instead, he spent the rest of his life with me.

He gave me everything he had until his final day. He gave me all the love, all of the security, all of the protection, all of the happiness, all of the “Scott” he had left in him until the day he left this Earth. What more can you possibly give besides “the rest of your life?” We certainly never knew how short that would be but he gave me all of it, the rest of his life.

That’s a whole change in perspective, all by itself.♥️