birth and life after a death

Being part of Mia Rose's birth experience has me thinking.
In many ways I feel like my life with Bill was "womb-like".
I floated around, hanging out, living life wherever he took me.
His death was like the birthing experience,
because the protected, sheltered place I lived in was stripped away.

I was squeezed 
through an uncomfortable channel 
into a foreign, potentially overwhelming world.

The umbilical cord of knowing he was there, 
protecting me,  
providing for me, 
looking forward to being with me,
is severed.

Yet everyday I am reminded, 
because of his planning, 
he still takes care of me.

I am learning to live life separated from Bill.
I am responsible to communicate if I need something.
Figuring out what words to use, and who to ask is a process.
Early on I depended on my children and friends,
without realizing how much I relied on them.

Sometimes I cry for no known reason.
Sometimes I belly laugh at nothing in particular.
Often I find myself grinning, as I hear a whisper through a memory.
Sometimes I make a huge mess and someone has to help me clean it.
Slowly I learned to crawl and get places on my own.

I am at the point of being willing to risk
standing, toddling, falling and getting back up,
taking baby steps toward independence.

I am thankful for those who have held my hand,
then let me hold their finger,
for those who cheer me on, 
encouraging me to try,
steering me in the right direction,
sometimes catching me before I fall,
picking me up and dusting me off if I land on my face.

I don't notice the growth day to day,
but when I look back at where I was a year ago,
it is obvious-
each step forward is huge, 
regardless of how small it may seem at the time.

Just as a newborn cannot thrive on its own,
I need others to help me to continue to grow and mature.
To "my people" who walk this journey with me, 
who celebrate my victories with me,
I hope I communicate clearly that I love and appreciate you.