Lesson in perspective

At work, we were part of a contest for a food bank.  Boxes and cans were arranged to make “art.”  For several days, I walked by the finished completion and could not for the life of me figure out what it was.  I thought maybe it was reference to a movie or kids’ show that I wasn’t familiar with.  I didn’t want to display my ignorance with modern culture by asking.

Last week, they sent out a photo of our entry.  Looking at the entry I immediately recognized it to be a lunch box with a juice box, a sandwich, and a letter from Mom.  It all made total sense and was crystal clear.

But, yet walking right by it everyday, I wasn’t able to step back and get a true perspective.  Funny how life can be like that.

The design close up and from a distance reminds me of my travels through widowhood.  In the early stages, I was spending every day just trying to make it to the next day.  There wasn’t the view of a week out, a month out, next year…  Now even four years out, I don’t have a good view of what the large picture looks like.  Each day is overflowing and has the workload for two full time employees but the staffing of one.  Somewhere comes the acceptance that there will be things that don’t get done and that is life.  Life is a learning experience.. and widowhood is like being thrown into the middle of an ocean and asked to swim.  I don’t know of any widows who haven’t came up with their share of saltwater in their lungs.  Hopefully, some day, I’ll get the swimming down.

I often get the comments of how impressively I’m handling things.  Nothing about my life feels impressive… and those people haven’t seen my house, overgrown yard, or weedy fields.  But the important things are that the child is happy, thriving, doing well in school, and learning how to be a good citizen.  The critters are well fed and happy.

In my life, the reality probably lies between the two perspectives.

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About Mary K. Smith

I was widowed in July 2009, when I lost my beloved husband, John, to melanoma. Cancer SUCKS. We have a young son who was just a year old when his father died. I live on a small farm in Maryland which is home to horses, cats, and a dog. I started this blog as a way for me to heal, a way to remember my husband, and eventually I'd like to share it with our son so he can see the love that his father had for him, the love that we had for each other, what a great person his father was, and how hard his father fought to live.
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