During my first year of widowhood, most of my friends had no idea what I was going through but they had more common sense than I did. I did know I was crazy for awhile. I realized I was feeling and behaving in ways that were so out of my character. For the most part, I did what I wanted to do, went where I wanted to go, and seldom considered the consequences. And for the majority of the time, my friends stuck with me and just let me be me.
So when a time came when I was on the verge of possibly making a huge mistake for my family, my friends, being friends, gave me some advice. When my former husband died, we lived in a single family home, in a neighborhood with many friends. I had promised my daughters that we would continue to live there. Nine months or so into my widowhood, I felt as if being tossed back and forth. I knew I had to let go of the past, accept what happened, and move forward.
With bi-polar feelings, there were still days I'd wallow in tears. I knew I couldn't go back but I cried for the memories. Then, on possibly the very next day, I'd be looking forward to and planning what my next move would entail. My parents and only sibling lived in the Carolinas. Living in Florida, I felt further away than I wanted to be from my family. I came up with what I thought was a logical idea to move to North Carolina where my family lived and have a support system.
My friends came to my rescue. There's a saying for the widow..."Don't do any big moves in the first year!". Some widows don't have a choice but to move. However, in my situation the cons for moving outweighed the pros. My support system were my friends. They were like sisters to me. My daughters were happy in their school, in their neighborhood, and involved with dance and gymnastics. A lot of people in our community knew our situation, and that alone was comforting.
I listened and considered my friends' advice not to move for at least a year. Well, I thought, that's only 3 or 4 more months. I can wait it out. And as the last couple months of the first year winded down, I realized how much it didn't make sense to move at this time. It didn't mean at all that I didn't love my family. It meant why would I uproot my daughters and myself when we were surrounded by people that already loved us. Why would I subject my family to another change so soon?
When a year was up, the last thing I wanted to do was move. I believe one purpose for having friends in grief is listening to their advice because they have more sense than the grieving widow. I was still in a fog and couldn't see the whole picture. So in my case it was true, I wasn't ready to make any big decisions until a year had passed. My friends knew that and loved me enough to tell me. That's what friends are for!!