We find ourselves surrounded by closures of stores, restaurants, movie theaters, parks and beaches. Those are the closures we can tangibly see but there are so many more emotional situations we are closed off from. The one I’m feeling heavier than any other is a certain aspect of closure with the loss of a loved […]
Widowed and Healing
Breaking Down — Making Amends
This morning, I had a “break down.”
What does that actually, really mean? Did I truly break down? Did I break and now need fixing? Or, did I really just lay on the carpeted floor of my office and ugly cry for around 10-minutes vacillating between feeling sorry for myself, scolding myself for it and then trying to make myself feel better (by saying it was “okay to not be okay”)?
Now What? (Take 2)
Still, I can not believe how drastically different my life is without him. I still ask myself “NOW WHAT?” … What the hell am I supposed to do without him? I don’t have the answer. In truth, I have more questions than answers and I think that’s okay for right now. It has to be because it is what I’ve got.
Maybe, I will find the answers to the questions I ask in the stillness and in the quiet of the lockdown Covid19 has created. Maybe, while distancing from others, I will become closer to myself. And, perhaps, I will “hear” what my Soul has to say while I retreat into mandatory solitude. Maybe, I will figure out the direction of my life when I am forced to be alone – sheltering in place without the man I love.
The Heroic Haircut
I gave myself a haircut at home this week. Well maybe it’s not exactly heroic to get a haircut but it took a lot of courage to do it. Not because I might miss a spot or screw up and shave a line across my head but because I had to do it myself. It’s […]
Gratitude
In recent weeks, as I have continued to shelter in place in my house (with four fur kids and no one else to keep me company), I have had a lot of time to think about so many things. What is it that causes me to feel so stuck? Why do I wait until the last possible minute to write these blog posts every week, knowing that I have a deadline (for the posts I publish to other websites in addition to my own)?
It’s simple. I recently stopped feeling grateful.
Messages from Mike
There seems to come a time in life for those of us who do not grow up with formal religion – and perhaps it’s triggered by loss and hardship, perhaps by age – where we search for meaning in losses and in life, and messages or clues that there might be something before and after […]
Yard Work in Progress
This blog features my tantrum against his death, and that’s okay because life isn’t always wonderful. Sometimes it’s cruddy and messy. Sometimes life is a work in progress. And, sometimes, big lessons are learned while you roll up your sleeves and get dirty doing something very ordinary like yard work. This is what happened today.
Grief and yard work are both labour intensive and each thing demands your attention at various times. On Sunday, I gave both the yard and my grief the time they demanded and I’m better for it.
Weeds
This week, I spent a couple of mornings outside in my yard using a weed eater to knock down some of the weeds that have been growing rapidly after lots of rain here in San Diego County over the last few weeks. Weed eating is hard work. Not that I am afraid or don’t like to do hard work, but it is very tiring.
What struck me is that a couple of weeks ago, I had already started to pull weeds in the yard by hand. I have never liked to pull weeds, especially by hand. In that moment, I remembered how many times Suzanne used to plead and negotiate with me to do any kind of yard work when we owned property together previously.
Hollow (Second edition)
For many years, I chose to exist safely. I needed to pause and reestablish my footing. And, thankfully, I did outgrow the comfort of the limitations I have created for myself. But, I will never forget those early days of grief. I was so unhinged because of his death that I couldn’t manage much more than limping through the day. But, as time has progressed, I understand that this was staggering was necessary. I had to experience the process of faltering and coming undone, in order to move forward. I now understand that I needed my toes to touch the bottom before I could re-surface. That was part of the process. It was unavoidable.
I know that, eventually, I will find the momentum to get me to where I need to be. I’ve come a long way these last 3.5 years and I don’t want to undersell my success. I see what I’ve accomplished without him; and more importantly I feel it. I like the woman I’m becoming. And, he’d like her too.
I have always had grit. And, if I ever doubt my capability, I remind myself that once upon a time I was his. And, he loved me because I was solid. There is nothing hollow about me.
10 Things I’ve Learned from Self-Quarantine
A friend of mine posted last week asking for people to share things they have learned going through this whole health pandemic – either about themselves, society, or just life in general. In an effort to write something today that has a bit of lightness to it, I thought I’d jot down a few things I’ve learned through this whole craptastic experience we have found ourselves in.
The Lone Parent…
On Tuesday, April 7, 2020, I woke up at 3:49 AM to my phone vibrating. It was a call from my middle daughter, Laura. It was every parent’s nightmare. As I answered, awakened from a deep sleep I had only fallen into three hours earlier (because as I came to bed I discovered a roof leak coming through the ceiling right outside my master bedroom), I could hear crying. It was my oldest daughter, Rachel, crying.
Force Feeding
I am unsure how to sustain myself on self love alone. I grew used to regular servings of Mike’s love; and, now, I am adapting to a strange sustenance that never seems to fill me the way his love once did. No matter how much love I feed to myself, I am never fully satisfied. I am not content on a diet of self love. The love I have for myself is hearty and solid, but it does not appeal to me like Mike’s love. His love was pure and my version of self love feels manufactured. At best I am force feeding love to myself. It feels awkward and lacklustre; and it is nowhere near as good as the love I shared with Mike, but it’s what I’ve got. It is a start.