Yesterday something happened at a doctors office that sent me straight back into 23 years ago, when I just barely lived through a traumatic event, and joined the ranks in becoming the 2-words that I would grow to absolutely loathe ,and feel shame about for a very long time: rape victim. After awhile, I began shifting from using the term…
healing for widowed
Complex Holidays
Mother’s Day. My relationship to this day has been a complicated one for most of my life. Until more recently actually, I did not celebrate this day at all. Since my mom died when I was nine, this day has really been nothing but painful for most of my years. So much so that I just decided to forget all about it in my twenties and avoid going out…
Tightrope Walker
Have you ever felt like your life as a widowed person has you being pulled and pushed in multiple directions? Like you are walking a tightrope, but nobody bothered to ever give you any lessons. It’s a tug of war between responsibilities, loyalties, and things you want. Honoring that other life. Living this one. Grieving , but not staying…
Call Me Anytime
I watched the first episode of a new show on Netflix this morning called Dead to Me. In the episode, two women meet at a grief group, both widows. They end up building a new friendship as late night phone buddies since neither of them are able to sleep. The show goes on to take a lot of unexpected twists and turns (and believe me you should so…
Things That Matter
Since becoming an involentary widow almost 8 years ago, I have changed in many positive ways. I am more empathetic. I am more sympathetic. I am less judgemental of people’s lives and situations and circumstances. I listen better. I stop to talk with people more. I find more meaning and beauty in very tiny things. I exist in the moment…
Why me? Why not ‘‘‘me?
After our income fell drastically, we moved into a one-bedroom apartment at a great location; it’s only a 20 minute walk to Anisha’s school. However, it is not a big, character home like the ones her two best friends live in. Recently she said, “I wish we lived in a big house like my friends.” I can’t describe how hard the…
Written in Ink
Last night, I went to a party at a friend’s house and she had a woman doing henna tattoos there. It’s been ages since I’ve had one, probably 15 years ago in college. As I thumbed through the many designs in her notebook, one caught my eye of a sun and moon. I had her do that design, and add stars. As she worked on painting the delicate lines…
Coasting
January is when Megan was first diagnosed with chronic organ transplant rejection. February is Shelby’s birthday. May is Mother’s Day, June is when she was admitted to the hospital, never to come home again, July is her birthday, August is our anniversary, September is when the next year of school starts for Shelby, October is my birthday,…
How I Do Birthdays
So this is how his birthday went this year… I woke up, and actually did not even remember it was his birthday for maybe an hour or two. After I’d dropped the kiddo off at school, I ran to the grocery store for a few things. And that’s when I remembered. Only it didn’t hit me like a ton of bricks. It didn’t stop me in my tracks. It was…
Happy? What Does It Mean To Be Happy?
I know what it means to be sad, afraid and angry, but what does it mean to be truly, truly happy? Lately, I find myself feeling more and more bored with life—and it’s not the kind of boredom that comes from depression. It is a very different kind of boredom because it is SO much lighter! It is hard to explain, but it just feels lighter. …
It’s a Real Thing. Camp Crash~
Holy shit, is it a real thing. Camp Crash. Michele, thankfully, speaks about it each year, prior to Sunday morning breakfast. Fair warning of gales ahead, campers. Brace yourselves.I first attended Camp Widow in 2015. Chuck had been dead for 2 years at that point. I didn’t know a soul there. I hadn’t connected with any widowed groups on fb. I was…
Self-Caretaking
For much of my life, I have been what can best be described as “grumpy”. I’ve tended to over-react and or see the worst in things, and myself. Something as simple as going to the grocery store brought out a part of me that only wanted to see the worst of humanity, followed by a reaction resembling anger, then followed by regret and shame at…