The Temporary Widow

... And so she loved him like none before, accepting with him all the flaws and graces that made him uniquely himself. She stood stubborn and steadfast in the face of tribulations, faltering no more than any other woman who'd made up her mind, and in the end she, in her love for him, was victorious.  And through her love, he came to love himself as well, and one day realized that she'd opened the door for him to love, to truly love, another, and he showered upon her the most glorious of gifts, the sweetest of kisses, and the most tender of affections.

Image by Michael Vincent Manolo

But like most great loves, happiness is tenuous, for there came a day when he had to leave her with nothing but promises of a swift reunion. Though she knew his words were said in truth, her heart broke for fear of being separated from that which brought her so much joy. Even the smiling face of her child was but a distraction, as she saw that he too missed his father deeply, and the rifts in her heart tore ever wider at the sadness trapped in those innocent eyes.

Days passed, and their reunion approached with each, yet it seemed like every night stole away with a little more of her heart as it melted from her body through streams of tears shed in lonely, dark hours. Surely she would be cold and distant by month's end, her heart hardened against the softness and vulnerability of love's embrace, and yet with each correspondence between them, she felt a bittersweet sadness rise and take root in her chest. She was not, after all, processing a betrayal as all other heartbreaks had been. She was processing something new, something never so profoundly felt before, and as she realized this, her heart's grief became bearable.

This time, as she went through a period of mourning, she wept not for a corporeal loss of love, but for the senseless loss of time shared in love's good graces. She wept for time lost in her lover's arms, and for laughter's absence in her child's days spent with his father. She mourned not a death, as she'd done previously in life, but for the presence of a void which, in its inherent misery, took joy from all other things and tainted them with the bitter taste of patience.

"How do you do it?"

Last night as we lay in bed, my hubby turned to me and asked, "how do you do it?"

I had to take a moment, then ask what he meant. "How do you do it day after day? How do you be a mother, a wife, a housekeeper, and still stay so happy?"


I proceeded to list off reasons why.

- My life has been defined by being a mom, being a wife, and keeping the family together, and while I wasn't given much choice in the matter, I choose not to resent it.
- I choose to see the happy moments in ordinary things, like watching my son learn to count on his fingers, and laughing when he dances with the broom.
- I told him that being a wife was no different now than before our son was born, and that while it can be stressful, I don't regret it. After all, things could be much worse, my life could have turned out much differently.
- Why shouldn't I be happy when I have a life filled with family and love? Etc...

However, beneath all of this is one reason I failed to mention. The reason that, even though things went far askew from my original plan, I've remained happy in my life is something bigger than small joys. It stems from a desire I've had my whole life.

As a child, I struggled with body image, like most chubby girls do. While my friends were all pretty and outgoing, I considered myself plain and was the shy, supportive one. My first crush (which lasted for four years through elementary school), rejected me at a dance once, and that's what sealed my deepest desire.

All I've wanted through life is to be happy with a man who loves me, and start a family.

Shallow for modern dreams, I know. Women are expected to want so much more these days, that the idea of happiness coming from settling down is almost embarrassingly under-achieving. However, I've achieved my deepest desire, and considering there are women who have everything but the family they wanted, suddenly that dream doesn't seem so minimal.