A dear friend and Air Force widow sister said to me last weekend, in response to my endless questions to her about this grief (she’s 6 years out), and time frames and, oh, you know, everything…she said this to me, and I’ve reflected on it in the days since. It isn’t that it goes away. We just get stronger, and we carry it differently.Such…
Miscellaneous
Journey of Self-discovery
It was just a little walk. As we pulled up to the trailhead on Canaan Valley National Wildlife Refuge, there were very light snow flurries. We were at 4100 feet above sea level, and had plans to hike along the western ridgeline at Dolly Sods, the highest plateau east of the Mississippi. Sarah, Shelby, and I took a trip this past weekend to…
My Life With Grief
I write a lot about how strange and even unrecognizable my life is now. I can’t explain exactly how I got here, but I can tell you a little about what it’s like, just over three years after my husband died. I wake up every morning thinking of Mike. Reminders of him are everywhere in my house, on this island, and in my heart and mind. So in…
How did I get here??
Do you ever get the feeling you’re living someone else’s life? I’ve been having these kind of out-of-body moments when I look around my small world and just for a flash, don’t recognize anything. It’s not any kind of serious psychological break, don’t worry – it’s just that moment when I think…how on earth did I get here?? I think…
The Good, Bad, Ugly, and Everything in Between~
This is a list. Not a gratitude list necessarily, but a list that does include some good shit, nonetheless. And sometimes it’s easier to write in list form than prose form. This past weekend I had a massive, huge, meltdown/purge/nervous breakdown. Included were earthquake size shakes throughout my body, shallow breathing, sobbing, gut-wrenching…
What do You Think?
So I bought a table. It was only forty dollars, and it’s a little round glass patio table. Shelby and I spent an hour or so unpackaging it, laying the parts out, and assembling it. I know this sounds completely mundane, even boring, but bear with me. This table symbolizes something. It’s not sentimental, really. It wasn’t…
Trying to Treasure
I’m still working my way back into life on the island from the last two weeks I spent in New Orleans helping out my stepdaughter and her family. Two weeks of helping care for a four year old and a two year old with a newborn there as well pretty much knocks out everything else one might otherwise be doing or thinking about. Having never raised…
The Pulse Beat of Love Over Everything Else~
I have to remind myself, as many of us do, I expect, that this widowhood is, as I learned in AA, a matter of progress, not perfection. Because I, for one, consistently seem to expect more of myself than is realistic. By which I mean, I continually scan my body and mind and heart to see where I am in this grief and why I’m not further along, even…
Reminders from Grief
Things are coming to a close here in Tampa this morning. We expected it to feel exciting to return back here a year later… except this time, so many things have gone wrong. The pool at the hotel has been closed, creating some difficulty to finding quiet places to talk with fellow widows. On Friday, we looked at the time wrong and missed the…
This Seemingly Never-ending Road~
Is it just me? I wonder, even as I know it isn’t just me. Logically and because I literally know otherwise, it isn’t just me. There’s a boat load of men and women through time immemorial who have lived this shit that I’m living, that we’re all living. And yet, my brain doesn’t let up about it.Why are you still so traumatized, Alison?…
“It Isn’t Just Me”
It’s less than a week until Mike and I will be flying down to Tampa for Camp Widow. It’s so surreal to think of all that has happened in a year. Life is no less complicated than it ever has been, in fact more so for me. It’s a good complicated, but that doesn’t make it easy. I was talking with another widow friend the other day about this. Like me,…
A Wandering Widow
I am traveling…yes, I’m off island once again. My poor little pink suitcase I bought the year after Mike died had to be taken out of service because the stitching actually ripped open this last trip, it’s been used so much. I can’t remember ever having a suitcase get worn out…and I can’t remember when in my life I’ve stayed in so many…