Widow's Voice

AND. Not Or~

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We all know the power of words, especially in widowhood.

Words stream at us in loving support, with awkwardness, clumsy grace, and, unfortunately, in judgement.

We hear these words and phrases and they make us stronger or they make us want to hide.

We begin, as time passes, to hide ourselves. To isolate ourselves.

We present artificial selves to protect ourselves from judgements and maintain our daily lives, while our hearts and souls go underground.

Early on, in what I will presume was good intent, a friend told me to just fake it til you make it.

Instinctively, I knew that wasn’t an option for me. It felt like an unhealthy response to a genuinely traumatizing event.

As these few years have passed, I’ve spoken about life without my beloved husband, and the struggles of widowhood, in as real and authentic a way as possible.

I refuse to hide myself from it. I refuse to allow the world and its’ judgements to force me into isolation. I can’t, for my own sanity’s sake.

And I’ve also had to create a life and do my daily tasks, which I can’t do if I’m sobbing my way through my days.

So I’ve put on the face, so to speak, in order to get shit done, like we all do.

But this isn’t a fake it til you make it face.

In what I consider a healthy response, I’ve morphed into two people. Which, as a Gemini, is no big deal to me, honestly.

And I’ve learned that this widow life isn’t an either/or proposition.

It’s an and situation.

I am this person AND I’m that person.

I am devastated empty lonely yearning sad missing him AND I am creating and creative engaging being and showing and receiving Love…daily.

I am a shadow of myself AND I am shining more brightly than ever.

I don’t want to be here on this earth without him AND I am more determined than ever to carry our Love story every day.

I feel empty and feel so full each and every day.

I am this and I am that and I am perfectly okay with this duality.

This duality, for me, is how I widow~

About Alison Miller

My beloved husband Chuck died while we were full timing on the road. We’d rented a condo for our stay in southern CA, and I had to leave 3 weeks after his death. All I knew at that time was that I had to find a way to continue traveling on my own, because settling down without him made me break into a cold sweat. I knew that the only place I’d find any connection to Chuck again was out on the roads we’d been traveling for our last 4 years together. I knew nobody out on the road, I knew grief was a great isolator, and I knew I had to change the way I traveled without him, to make it more emotionally bearable for me. So I bought a new car, had a shade of pink customized for it, bought a tiny trailer and painted the trim in pink, learned how to tow and camp, and set out alone. My anxiety was through the roof, and all I knew to trust was the Love that Chuck left behind for me. I found Soaring Spirits early on, thank god, and the connections I made through SS helped ground me to some extent. I needed to know that other widow/ers were out there in my world, because I felt so disoriented and dislocated. Through Soaring Spirits, as the miles added up, my rig taking me north, south, east and west, I found community. I found sanity…or at least I learned that if I was bat shit crazy, I was in good company, and realizing that ultimately saved my sanity. PinkMagic, my rig, is covered with hundreds of names of loved ones sent to me by my widowed community, and I know it isn’t visible to the naked eye, but I’ll let you in on a secret…she actually illuminates Love as I drive down the many roads in our country, and I can see it through my side view mirror. Love does, indeed, live on~

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