How did I get here?

    When people say "Until death do us part,'' I think it's safe to assume that people are imagining a time far into the future. But, here I am at 51 staring at forms that ask if you're single or married and feeling like I need to check a box in between. Dying at 51 is not supposed to be a normal thing. Parents aren't supposed to bury their children, it's out of the natural order of things. That's why it hasn't bothered me when people ask me what happened. It’s perfectly natural to wonder what happened when someone young dies.

 I wasn't able to give people a definite answer for nearly two months. The pathologist was on vacation when Branden died and then his flight got delayed by an ice storm. The autopsy was performed a week after he died and I received the report 7 weeks later. Word of advice, don't read the autopsy report of a loved one. It's full of details that create mental images that are hard to suppress. Take it to a trusted medical professional if you want details explained or just read the summary that lists the cause of death. 

     Branden's cause of death was listed as complications from duodenal ulcer disease with contributing factors of atherosclerotic cardiovascular disease and ethanol dependence. The report stated that an ulcer had perforated. I did a lot of googling after reading this report. I still don't understand how I could have talked to him at 10 AM and he was fine only to come home from work at 4 PM and find him dead. I will write more about his health in other posts, but he had been feeling sick for about a year. We never got any answers but we never thought it was fatal. 

    So here I am. For over thirty years Branden was part of my identity. I was his girlfriend/fiance/wife my entirie adult life. It's not that I didn't have my own personal identity but that he was part of my identity. I am now his widow. Somehow, defining myself by the lack of something isn't very appealing. I don't know for how long when people ask if I am married I should answer that I am widow. At some point, I need to be confident enough in my new idenity to check that single box. I am now on a journey of redefining myself. He will always be a part of what defines me, though.

Rainbows

On Ash Wednesday, I came home from work exhausted. I was on the phone with a friend and knew I needed to get ready if I wanted to make it to Mass on time. I was tempted to stay home. Eventually, the Catholic guilt got the better of me and I headed out the door. As I stepped off my porch I saw a beautiful bright double rainbow. 

For the past four weeks I had often prayed for a sign. I needed a sign that Branden was still connected to me somehow. The rainbow was the sign I needed. A friend sent a text as I was driving to ask how I was doing. I responded that at the moment I was crying because I saw a rainbow  I think she understood my response. I was sad but had hope. I sat in the car for a few minutes trying to regain some composure. As I walked inside the church I heard multiple people talking about the rainbow. 

The next time I saw a rainbow was a few weeks later in early May. Branden and I had both volunteered at a homeless shelter in town, Lifeboat Alliance. Then life got busy but he talked often about wanting to volunteer again or at least start taking meals. After his death, so many people brought me food in my time of need and I wanted to give back when I could. On this particular Sunday that I took dinner to Lifeboat, one of the guests came out to help me carry in the food. He was so happy because he was offered a job that day and felt like life was getting back on track. He said he felt blessed. I realize that I am fortunate. My story could have been very different if my husband hadn't decided to pay for extra life insurance or if I didn't have family and friends willing to help. You never know what's coming that could knock you to your knees. I was feeling a bit emotional as I drove home and as I was approaching our road I saw a beautiful rainbow. Another sign that I needed that night.