“When something bad happens you have three choices.

You can either let it define you,

let it destroy you,

or you can let it strengthen you.”

 

I’ve certainly let Jim’s death define me during these past 10+ months  – and I did it after Vern died, too. Lots of hurts and oh so many tears. Many don’t like the word widow, but I feel it honors our years together. 41 with Vern; 7 with Jim. I feel it’s also a badge of courage for those very hard caregiver years. Those years definitely defined me.

But I only wrapped myself in that ‘widow’ moniker for a while.

Well I guess some might not agree with that statement. I spent ten years volunteering for Soaring Spirits and attending all of those Camp Widows. 24 of them! Surrounded by widowed people. In person. Online. So many lovely friendships. Writing in my blog “A Myeloma Widow’s Journey” and now here in Widow’s Voice and hoping to get started writing regularly in my new “An Old Widow’s Musings” blog.

Oops … guess I am defining myself as a widow  … but it definitely did not destroy me.

It strengthened me. So many stories of growth and resilience. And HOPE.

It gave me hope that I could find a way to live this new alone life in a way that would honor Vern … and now I need to do that to honor Jim, too.

Some of the things I did after Vern died don’t quite fit this time of my life. Finding Brave Girls and getting certified to teach soul work and hold retreats was a wonderful part of my life while it lasted, but I don’t have a desire to do that now. But I could hold some of those free art days I used to do on Saturdays in Summerlin, using up some of the massive amount of craft/art stuff I have stored here. That’s going on my list.

I was an avid ‘random acts of kindness’ giver. Used to leave little inspirational post-it notes on people’s cars or stuck in between the soup cans in the grocery store. Kept my homeless care bags stacked in my car to give out regularly. But life got busy and I stopped doing most of that. Back on the list … I can definitely start doing those things again.

And after I retired, I headed off to Costa Rica for an art retreat. Alone. Only knew the instructor online. I snorkeled for the first time and hiked through the Monte Verde cloud forest, crossing eight hanging bridges high up in the canopy. I even held a red-eyed green tree frog in my hands on my 64th birthday overlooking a volcano and surrounded by new friends. That was an epic trip. Not sure I have another one of those in me, but it’s going on the list. Maybe, just maybe.

I’ll be heading off to the beach in ten days. Just me and Sheila. My first time doing a longish road trip with her. Packing my journals, some art stuff and a couple of books and just plan to take it all in. Beautiful sunsets. Lots of walks along the ocean shore. I’ll be remembering my guys there … both of my wedding anniversaries will land while I’m there and being able to hear and see the ocean on those days will be the gift I need. And then Camp Widow in Calgary will arrive in September, where I’ll hold both Vern’s and Jim’s passing dates. These may not be ‘epic’ trips but they will be meaningful and heart-healing and exactly what I need these days.

Note: I looked up that quote mentioned above and it was often attributed to Dr. Seuss … but when I asked Google if he actually wrote it, they said NO. Regardless, it’s a good one.