Straddling the North Carolina- Tennessee border, Great Smoky Mountains National Park is a sea of lush forests, countless animals, and high mountains. It’s my favorite place on earth. I’ve been there countless times since I was young, and until Megan died, it had never been more than a few years since taking a trip there. I know the park…
Widowed Therapy
The Winds of You
This past week, I dug up all my old journals from boxes and drawers to photograph for my grief e-course I am building. In the course, we will spend a week writing about our grief, and so I decided to go back through my own journals to look for examples of some of the raw emotions I have captured since this journey began. One of the things we talk…
Legacy of a Tree
The American Chestnut is a large, stately, useful tree. At one time, over a quarter of the eastern American woods were populated by this tree. The wood is rot resistant, the nuts are delicious, and even the oils in its bark has medicinal properties. Nobody wanted to see the Chestnut go away, and it didn’t want to die off. Over eons it…
Unresolved
I have my share of insecurities, anxiety, and self-esteem issues. It’s a hell of a paradox for me to admit, on a public blog no less, that I’m insecure, but i need to get it out. For as long as I had Megan, i was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was a constant self-loathing that I wasn’t good enough to deserve her, or…
Broken Hearts Club
For the past week, I have poured myself into the creation of my new grief workshop. It’s finally getting real now. Which is scary and exciting all at the same time. The fundraiser is over, and by the end, I raised $1700 to help with the creation of all of this. Amazingly, 95% of those donations were from widowed people. None of my close non-widow…
Upon This, I do Insist~
I wonder, frequently, when grief changed from a normal, human response to the death of a loved one, to a condition that, seemingly, must be gotten through (with all due speed, thank you very much for your consideration), with clinical protocols assigned to it? When did grief get designated as complicated and unhealthy and uncomfortable and…
This Carrying~
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…
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…
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…
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…
Perspectives from Camp Widow
Sarah and I have just returned from Camp Widow, in Tampa. This was our third camp together, and our first time returning to Tampa, where we met last year. If you’ve read her sunday post, you know that we had great expectations of what this Camp was going to be like, and for the first few days, it seemed as if everything we had planned for…
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?…