Day One – Weeping
Without any apparent reason, on the morning of Camp Widow Tampa, I awoke weeping.
There was no bad dream.
No expectation of trouble.
Not even a recognition that I was going to a place named Camp Widow.
Weeping was the prominent emotion that first day.
In searching for reasons, I admitted that a job loss had me off-balance. A loss that was stressful and disappointing.
But this amount of weeping was not a usual event for me–especially not public weeping.
As my daughter drove me 50 miles in the pre-dawn morning to Los Angeles International Airport, I expressed some of the fears that were swirling inside my usually peaceful self.
Again, I wept.
Then, after arriving to my first flight of the day, 5 minutes AFTER the cabin door shut, I not only wept publicly. I wailed. I allowed my full disappointment, grief, fear, shame and blame to come out for all to see.
One flight attendant was pissed.
The other was wiping tears from her eyes.
No one else was there since they were all on the plane that left me behind.
Who is this person and what have they done with the normal me?
When I boarded the final flight, Miami to Tampa, I leaned my head against the window and captured a photo of the gorgeous clouds just beyond the plane’s wing.
I spoke to Dan.
“Are you there?” I asked.
“Is this what you get to do now?”
As the destination grew near, the tears took a break as I took stock of how much help I’d received throughout the day and how grateful I was to finally arrive in Tampa.
One final non-camp task, a Zoom work meeting at 8:00 pm EDT, was the last thing to check off my list. With an angel helper’s aid, I managed to be fully present and positive, facilitating a great meeting for the next hour and a half.
Once finished, I took in my surroundings, noticing an art piece above the bed….is it mist?….are those white cloths soaring in wind?
No.
They were clouds.
I wept once again.
Widowed tears come unbidden.
Widowed tears arrive like a storm.
Widowed tears just need to be cut loose, set free, an allowed a new beginning.
The new beginning for me had a name: daybreak.
Sometimes hitting bottom helps.
I arrived primed and ready for the TLC that Camp Widow provides.
Let the camp begin!
