Since July 14, I was waiting for the day i’d need to complete a form that requested my marital status. The hardest part about that was I only got to update one form – for a doctor – with ‘married.’ So it’s like i went from ‘single’ to ‘widow’ on paper.
That moment actually happened on Thursday. I finally applied for a passport. I used to tell Chris we should travel the world. He wanted to go to China – something I may work up the courage to one day. However, the act of actually getting a passport was something i never did. I’d talk about it, talk about making plans to go somewhere international, but never walked myself to the post office. So I did.
I stood there filling in the application and the dreaded question came up. I didn’t expect it to sting like it did. I think, had they not asked for the date I would have been okay. It was that date I got stuck on. It’s what I always get stuck on.
July 14, 2017. 12 weeks from the day we were married. My grandmothers birthday. Chris was sitting on the bed in the emergency room and told me we needed to call her. So we called and sang her happy birthday, extremely off key in true Chris/Grayce fashion.
I became a widow so quickly. My name hadn’t even been changed on some cards. I have been widowed longer than i had been married. That comes with its own source of sting.
While I happen to be widowed, it doesn’t define me. I am Grayce. I love music and writing. I love with all my heart and try my best to be kind. My Raggedy Man helped cultivate the passion and lust for traveling inside me. He helped bring out the confidence and strength that I so admire in myself. I am a widow, yes. But that term cannot and will not define me.
I am not a check box on a piece of paper. I am a living, breathing portrait of what it means to carry on. I will continue to carry on. For while ‘widow’ may be an adjective, Grayce is a noun.