Sundays are my writing days here.
Sometimes, on a Sunday, I get up and make my coffee, and sit down to write, and the words just flow. I know what I want to say, and I write it, and all is well in widow blog-land.
Then there are days like today.
Theres nothing I have to say here, on this day, that I feel wouldnt be repetitive, or that I feel might be helpful for someone else to read / hear. Ive already talked about my dying, aging kitty Sammy. Ive already talked about my parents moving to Cape Cod and all the triggers that has brought up for me. Ive already talked about all the widow things to the point of exhaustion. Or at least it feels that way. Today.
It is on days like this that I find myself having the inner struggle of – should I stay or should I go? Is staring at your laptop with a blank look for 20 minutes a sign that its time to leave the blog and give someone else a chance at sharing their story – or is it simply normal, Sunday morning brain fog that happens now and then? It never feels like a chore to write here. I just dont always feel like I have something to say. Other times, I have a lot to say, and I really appreciate and love having this space to say it.
It seems to be the thing around here to go on your way after writing here for a certain many years. To bow out and hand off the widowed torch to another writer. Whenever someone leaves, it seems to be their own decision, and it seems to be because they feel they no longer need to write, or they no longer have the desire, or life is too busy, or theyve grown out of it, or whatever else. Sometimes I feel like an old dinosaur – the dinosaur of widowed people. Its been almost 11 years since the loss. Im 50 years old now. Maybe it IS time to give this opportunity over to someone younger, or someone in the earlier days of loss. But then I also feel like, if I did that, then who is here on behalf of the dinosaurs? Who is here to say that, after almost 11 years, I still miss my person, and I still struggle, and I have found joy and LIFE again, and yet that life is still complex and filled with emotions and lived from a widowed viewpoint? Who would be here to represent those of us who arent particularly religious, or who never got to have kids, or who lost their person in the first years of their marriage, before they ever really got to live their lives together? Who would write on behalf of all the remarried widow people – all the others who are in a “creepy, paranormal threesome”, as my husband Nick calls it? Who, if not me, and others who have been here awhile?
That is the struggle. I think about this sometimes. I want to stay. Im not saying that Im leaving. Im just TALKING about leaving, and theres a difference. I think its important to send the message to widowed people that their love for the person who died is forever and eternal and it moves with you throughout your life, if you want it to. I think its important for them to know that joy and pain go together, and that they will continue to have both in their life after loss. I think they should see that life does go on, and for some of us, helping other widowed people becomes our new purpose and becomes part of that life. I am happiest when I am hanging with my widowed tribe – my people. Whether its writing or doing a speaking engagement, or just having a conversation over coffee with some widowed friends in our Regional Group – all of that makes me happy. And that is relevant. Sometimes, mostly, I feel relevant. I KNOW that people read my words here, because people tell me this all the time. They tell me at Camp Widow, they tell me in private messages, in emails, and in other ways. People sometimes say they have followed my story from day one, and they read my words each Sunday. Others say they just recently started reading, and that they find the blogs so helpful. That is awesome, and that is the point.
But sometimes I feel like a dying dinosaur that is limping through these posts. On those days, I feel insecure, and I wonder if people are out there reading my words and asking: “Why is she still here?”
I guess, for now, Im still here because I want to be, because its important, and because us old dinosaur widowed people still have feelings too. Im here because even on the days where I feel like Im not sure if I should stay, I DO feel like I can tell you all that, and write with brutal honesty, and you will understand.
Thank you.