Widow's Voice

Widowed Emotions

Fall

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Each year, I feel myself falter and fall when the leaves change color because I know that Mike’s death date is looming large.   Thankfully, over the years, I have learned to trust that I can and I will break my fall using my own grit and grace.  With time, I have come to value and appreciate the beauty in my own strength.  Now, I believe in myself the same way Mike believed in me.  This is big, big stuff.  This is Mike continuing to love on me from across dimensions.  

I have come to know my own capability.  Finally, I see what he saw in me.  It is ironic that it took Mike’s death for me to see myself in the light he saw me in.   With this reflection, I now have the ability to fiercely love myself – the way he once did.  What a way to honor the big love he had for me.  In his absence, I can love myself wholly and madly for him and because of him.  This is how Mike’s love lives on.  And, this feels pretty wonderful.

It’s Ok to Not Be Ok

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Honesty and authenticity is where my blog writing begins. There are moments in the journey that spark continuity in the conversation of my condition but there is so much else involved that I don’t know how to articulate yet. There is no manual on how to do this. The road is written as its traveled. […]

Two Questions

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For many of us, the idea of moving forward—of creating a new life—seems somewhat alien, I know. I think most of us feel this life has been thrust upon us, and we have no choice but to carry on. But I disagree. I think it is a mistake to think this way. I know that after maybe three or four months into my widowhood, I wanted to completely change my life and how I had previously lived. 

So now, I feel as though the sun has set on my old life; and I begin anew.

My Heart’s Music~

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Do you think I’m going to let you just leave after telling me something like that? These were Chuck’s words as I headed to the door after confessing to him that I’d fallen in Love with him. I’d been attending meetings for adult children of alcoholics and counseling, where I practiced telling myself the truth […]

Resilience is…

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I could have gone a few different directions for this week’s writing. One was going to be about some death admin that was, in the end, straightforward and easy, if also hard. I might yet write about that, just because I do so love challenging my embedded belief that all admin (death admin) is horrendously […]

For the Millionth time, Now What?

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Living forward  is a tedious act.  We live and we grieve… the two things are not exclusive of one another.  Early on I did not understand this.  I thought I had to find a “cure” for my grief.  I have discovered that there isn’t such a thing.  Grief exists because the love exists.  And, like our love, our grief will remain in some capacity – forever.  There is no other way for it to be.  And, I am okay with this.  I have to be.

Tears of A Clown

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It’s Halloween again. I used to mark my year’s passing by holidays and life events. Now that Clayton is gone, my year is filled with reminders written in grief across the days, weeks, months and seasons. My year is a grief calendar. It’s been four years since I really did anything. We dress up at […]

Focused Attention

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I have done a lot of work on myself over the last two years since Suzanne died. This morning, I had a revelation.

My attention has still been scattered. The revelation came when listening to a podcast about brain science. It dawned on me that I must apply my attention to what has become most important to me. This means placing it on activities and relationships that serve me—and not just what I “think” I need to place my attention and focus on.

A Huge Moment in Northwest Texas~

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It was completely unexpected.  My first road trip since the pandemic began. I wasn’t towing my pink trailer, but I did add a bunch of decals to my pink car, deciding that my car needs to represent my Odyssey of Love just as much as my trailer does, covered as it is with the hundreds […]

Love Tears…

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It is nearly four years since Mike died and yes I still cry, but now my recovery time is quick.  The turn around between tears and living can be compared to the space between breaths.  It is almost indistinguishable.  The time between my tears falling and my life interrupting is fleeting at best.  Tears fall and I don’t miss a beat anymore.  I guess you could say that I have become very proficient at living with the grief.

My life, like every widowed person’s life, is a delicate balance between soul crushing missing and a both feeble and fierce attempt at living as normal of a life as possible.  There, hidden among my regular routine life, is an ache that runs so deep inside me that if feels like it is not even separate from me.

My grief is part of who I am.  And, really, my grief is not grief at all.  It is love. 

My tears are not necessarily tears of sadness, more accurately, they are love tears.

Washing the Widowed Window

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I clean. I clean the dishes. I clean the laundry. I clean the house – Well sort of. I’ll admit I clean what’s apparent, the obvious and easily seen. Since Clayton passed away, I’ve been busy with a full time job, a side business and just figuring out life. They say that grief triggers hit […]