Daryl Wood's Blog

You could be forgiven if you saw me yesterday when I stopped in to see how my friend’s renovations were coming along. We chatted about his work and managing his dog and the wind on the lake and how his wife’s trip to the U.K. was going. You could be forgiven if you noticed I hadn’t cried during the visit and thought that maybe I had turned a corner.

You could be forgiven if you watched me talking with the people who picked up the old windows I was selling. I asked them questions about their property and the project they were undertaking and acknowledged them for their tenacity. You could be forgiven if you thought I was much more social and that maybe I had turned a corner.

You could be forgiven if you were one of the people I sent pictures to of the new bench in the Tobermory Harbour dedicated to my beloved Doug. I was so proud of what my friend Merv had built and couldn’t wait to share it with a few friends and family. You could be forgiven if you thought I was finally celebrating good things and not dwelling on the past because maybe I had turned a corner.

You could be forgiven if you were there to see me open a surprise hand made glass heart that a casual neighbour dropped off at my door. Her note was full of compassion and I thanked her by text for her generosity. You could be forgiven if you noticed I only sobbed for a few minutes instead of the usual hours long when something good happens and you might have thought that finally I had turned a corner.

And you could be forgiven if you read my cheery posts on the HNCA Move-A-Thon website where I share a daily update of my efforts to support this organization. I am committed to moving every day and I share how proud of am of myself and others committed to this cause. You could be forgiven if you read a new perspective in my positive words and thought that I’d write more uplifting messages which meant that maybe I had turned a corner.

This morning I did turn a corner. I woke up to a lovely sunrise and walked through our house and our little cottage suite and looked around at the changes I’d made and I suddenly saw Doug everywhere I looked – lying on the couch during treatment, sitting on the swing on the porch with me seeing the sun come up, drinking his coffee on the end of the dock, browsing on his computer looking for a good deal on a boat, walking along the shoreline in his big green rubber boots to help me bring my kayak in, and even remembering his long slow showers. This morning everything made me cry. A lot.

You could be forgiven if you thought I turned a corner because I did too. I thought I had found a way through with long walks in the sunshine, videos of other widow’s surviving, a healthy meal, the perfect haircut, and appreciating the kind messages of love and support. I thought the heaviness and aching loss of Doug’s companionship were in the distance. I thought I’d figured out how to let go of the crushing grief that can consume me on a day like today where I will silently mark the 21st week without him.

Maybe you didn’t think I had turned a corner but I did. Maybe I could be forgiven for thinking I had.