Widow's Voice

Restless Heart. Restless Feet~

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I’m restless.

I know, I know…I’m just one in a crowd of millions.

This pandemic, right? Year 2020.

I’d already given myself a year to get off the road full time, even before the ‘rona came visiting. I wanted to focus on filming a documentary about my Odyssey of Love.

So I was good with staying put. And then the frickin’ pandemic hit, and it’s been over a year of being stationary and I honestly don’t know when it will be safe for me to go back out on the road.

I’ve always known I have what I call itchy feet; I’m an Army brat and I’ve always been comfortable with moving around and meeting new people. Chuck and I going out on the road together suited me well and fed that restlessness. Being with him, though, eased the restlessness. He more than matched my spirit, and our life together, even before we went adventuring, was, well, adventurous and filled with life.

He died and I bought my tiny trailer and continued on, solo.

Lately I’ve wondered whether I do finally want to settle down, even if it’s without him. My spirit is restless for a place to call home. The catching point is that he was my home, as I was his. Home to me is that one special person who knows you inside out. I’m 100% disinterested in dating; what a fucking war zone it is in the dating world. Yes, there’s the occasional success story, but the odds at my age (in my 60’s)…while not impossible, aren’t good. I have no patience for bullshit and my list is one that reflects that…no smoking, no vaping, no dogs, definitely no cats, must take good care of himself physically, be well educated but not an elitist, well-traveled, well read, good mannered, no gross bathroom habits…the list goes on. So good luck, right?

Not that I’m interested in any case.

I’ve watched a few Hallmark movies the last few days, all of them based on Christmas in the South, and some of the stock footage in the movies was immediately recognizable to me; I saw familiar roads that I’ve traveled over the years of my Odyssey of Love. Could I make a home for myself somewhere in the South, along the Gulf coast? What is home to me now? Will I always feel this restlessness of spirit? Restlessness of my soul? Is it because I miss Chuck so much? Is this restlessness the rest of my life or might I someday realize a quietness in my heart?

I carry Chuck in my heart, every step I take and every mile that I drive. I feel closer to him out on the open road than I do in any one place. Maybe I just need to keep driving, once this pandemic either disappears or becomes more manageable.

I don’t know.

I’m just restless. My feet. My heart. My soul.

Fucking widowhood.

Alison Miller

About Alison Miller

My beloved husband Chuck died while we were full timing on the road. We’d rented a condo for our stay in southern CA, and I had to leave 3 weeks after his death. All I knew at that time was that I had to find a way to continue traveling on my own, because settling down without him made me break into a cold sweat. I knew that the only place I’d find any connection to Chuck again was out on the roads we’d been traveling for our last 4 years together. I knew nobody out on the road, I knew grief was a great isolator, and I knew I had to change the way I traveled without him, to make it more emotionally bearable for me. So I bought a new car, had a shade of pink customized for it, bought a tiny trailer and painted the trim in pink, learned how to tow and camp, and set out alone. My anxiety was through the roof, and all I knew to trust was the Love that Chuck left behind for me. I found Soaring Spirits early on, thank god, and the connections I made through SS helped ground me to some extent. I needed to know that other widow/ers were out there in my world, because I felt so disoriented and dislocated. Through Soaring Spirits, as the miles added up, my rig taking me north, south, east and west, I found community. I found sanity…or at least I learned that if I was bat shit crazy, I was in good company, and realizing that ultimately saved my sanity. PinkMagic, my rig, is covered with hundreds of names of loved ones sent to me by my widowed community, and I know it isn’t visible to the naked eye, but I’ll let you in on a secret…she actually illuminates Love as I drive down the many roads in our country, and I can see it through my side view mirror. Love does, indeed, live on~

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