{Never Not}
“A heart that is broke is a heart that’s been loved.” -Ed Sheehan.
April 16, 2016.
Three years ago today my world ended. It was the one time you left without hugging me, and the wink you gave me before you closed the door that night would be our last.
March is a month full of birthdays for me. My mom, grandma, brother, father-in-law, cousins, close friends, and my husband, Rasheed, are all born during this month. The only problem is Rasheed is no longer with us physically, but how do you tell that to your heart?
This year marks Rasheed’s third up above, and our third without him. These big days don’t seem to get any easier without him, but I am learning how to navigate this winding road through Grieftown.
I honestly believe God gives us more than we can handle so we must lean on Him.
Two Christmases ago I was a young widow struggling to find her way. I had just moved back to my parents’ home & my sister wanted us to take family pictures. I look at the photos of me in the gray & see the struggle in my eyes & heartache on my hips. In Rasheed’s last two years on this planet I was the heaviest I’ve ever been. I was frustrated with my weight, but that man loved me even more then & made me feel beautiful when I felt anything but it inside. After he passed I gained more weight & then lost it – repeating that cycle for a while.
“Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
No matter how much my head tries to prepare for the day, my heart knows what it means and feels the full weight.
April 16, 2016.
Two years ago everything changed. Two years ago today three cars took me from a wife to a widow. Two years ago today I left the movies with my husband and ended that typical Saturday with the need to bury that beautiful man a week later.
Balloons, cake, laughter and love. They are elements typically required to celebrate a birthday. Last year I incorporated all of those into my husband’s 40th heavenly birthday party.
Yup. I threw Rasheed a party nearly a year after he had passed away.
I mainly did it because that man never wanted me to make a big fuss over him, but a few days after his 39th birthday (and a few weeks before he was killed) he agreed to allow me to throw him a big 40th celebration where he could see all of his frat brothers, high school, college and business school classmates, and colleagues from throughout the years.
He never made it, but our friends and family did.
Sometimes I give myself permission to just… be.
No smiles. No sparkle. To breathe deeply through the good moments and the bad. To love hard because that’s all this life is about. To fiercely protect my family from the fools of this world and my own inner child, as well, because we all need a warrior, and baby, I’m up to the task.
2017 wasn’t easy, but I’m grateful for the growth it brought me. I can start to see the light that permeated even the mundane moments we shared when my Rasheed was by my side. If I’m honest, God allowed my heart & my spirit to break more times than I thought I could survive in these last 21 months, but He’s also taking the time to rebuild me. Continue reading
“Mom, can I have fries with my shawarma?”
My American experience is unique. Born in Houston, my parents moved me to the Middle East when I was four years old. My dad’s job transferred him. The move changed our lives. It wasn’t just the food we ate, the roads we traveled or even the fact my mom could no longer drive those roads because women weren’t allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia. That move opened my eyes to opportunities. My world literally became bigger.
I desperately wish I could go back in time.
To the days when we texted stupid things throughout the day. To the days when I yelled at you for staying in the gym too long. To the days when you, me and Lola spent all day inside on a Saturday eating pizza for all our meals because we were too lazy to go to the grocery store.
I’ll even take most April 16, 2016. It started off simply, sweetly and normally enough. Lazy morning in bed, pancake breakfast at the clubhouse and then an afternoon at the movies. All while in sweats and a messy bun because that’s when you swore I looked most beautiful.
I’m starting to see that time doesn’t heal all wounds, but I read somewhere that it does “give you the tools to deal with all of them.”
A year ago today, my earthly angel became my heavenly angel.
Rasheed, we all miss you more than most can comprehend.
Until I hold you in my arms again.
Forever Yours, KW
Rasheed Amin Wiggins
March 24, 1977 – April 16, 2016
