I don't know who I am. I once was Steve's wife. We were a bit of a comedy team, like Sonny and Cher. We insulted each other with ease and it was fun. He led, I followed. We agreed to disagree about some things by not bringing them up. I'm not sure how healthy this was, but it worked.
Then, I was Steve's caregiver. This role was a year that started off slow and gathered speed. The last few months I would not know how to describe. Maybe as overwhelming. When Steven died, the framework of our plans and dreams collapsed.
As I note each era of my life, I know I'm entering one very different, simply because I'm a single entity. No one is relying on me, like when the kids were young or Steve was sick. With the singleness come choices I've never had. I can change anything, from the color of the walls to the country I live in. I frankly don't remember a time like this.
It's confusing to have this much freedom. To go from being taken care of, to taking care of someone else, to being responsible for only me.
It's important for me to not forget where I came from. My past has woven me into this woman. With age comes wisdom. Wisdom to examine my faith, morals and integrity. I know Steven made a difference in my life and it is a legacy I'll carry with me forever.