Emerging Butterfly

Two truths hit me last night:  It's ok to cry and be sad, but it's also ok to laugh and enjoy being me.

No-one has walked this walk, not even another widow so that means I am the best at being me.  No one can judge me; if they try to they are not worth knowing. 

My promise to myself is to allow myself to be me.

My children were away last night which meant I was totally alone for the first time since Paul died.  I needed the space.  I was losing myself.  The girl who had bravely stepped out alone as a single mum with two young children was being crushed under duties, responsiblities and high expectations.   Some of which I had put on myself in the vain attempt to prove to the world that I was strong and could cope, others believed in what I preached and threw more stuff on me.  I could feel myself bending under the weight.

Yesterday evening I sat on the beach, just me with a few seagulls for company, eating fish and chips.   I became alive again.

Paul is in every breath I take, and God is in every step I make, but from now on I am Ruth.  I am the emerging butterfly.