Questioning

     I never used to question anything.  I took for granted that I would graduate college, get married, have kids and be happy and content for the rest of my days. 

 

Then life happened. 

    Things didn't quite turn out the way I had planned.  There were struggles and illnesses and money problems.  There was lots of moving around, lots of diagnoses that were not in our favor.  There was death.  Now there is more struggles, but of a different kind. These new struggles lead me to question lots of things.  Who wouldn't question things when life as you know it changes in the blink of an eye?

I questioned my mortality.

I questioned my ability to do things on my own.

I questioned why he had to go and not someone else.

I questioned whether or not his love was my one great love and if I would ever get another.

I questioned why our tragedy didn't mean more to people.

I questioned why I was stuck trying to raise two kids on my own.

I questioned why I was stuck with nothing, cleaning up the mess that he left behind.

I questioned if any of this was all worth it.

     The answers certainly aren't coming easily.  For the most part, the questions are still hanging out there.  Some provoke quite a visceral reaction from me in the form of anger.  Some provoke feelings of intense anxiety.  Still others provoke feelings of anxiety.  Sometimes I wish that a few would get answered so that I would have some feelings of closure.  I'm a year and a half into this journey of the new normal, and still closure is hard to come by.

I wonder if there is a such thing as closure when it comes to this level of grief?