At 1,748 days out has its question changed?
When I walked my husband out to the coroner’s van in our driveway we were 51 years 9 months married. I was sending him off, in the custom of our culture, to a place unknown to me. Saying the first of many goodbyes, I had no idea what came next as I stood at the threshold of the unknown.
Forty one thousand nine hundred fifty two hours later, I am wondering what widowhood is asking of me now.
Back then, the overwhelm of practical needs seemed to push other things to the background. I was lucky (as Michele Neff Hernandez’s mom) to live in close proximity to the good work of Soaring Spirits International. In little time I found myself at a Camp Widow where the many questions about “what now?” surrounded me in the most organic ways. Having been a volunteer for Camp Widow with Dan for so many years, it felt natural to explore the landscape of the new land named grief at a series of Camp Widows.
I’ve lost count of the number of camps that followed.
I was expecting talks from widowed people on various topics. I was NOT expecting the vulnerable places I visited in other ways such as losing my way, misplacing my keys, or many other “not me” kind of things that resulted from “widow brain”
Attending Camp Widow kept me moving through my grief. I’ve heard it said that witnessing myself in the many phases of loss is the way through grief. Joining in the suggested programs provided clarity for me. It attuned me to the reality that change is central to the grief process. I became the specimen under the microscope while also being the one peering through the lens at my new “self.”
Additionally, the opportunity to write the Wednesday blog was equally helpful. Putting into words the current status of my life once a week brought me into the center of my feelings: the clues of my life.
The question remains: what now?
As I contemplated life’s status before writing tonight, this quote came to me:
“Just don’t give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there’s love and inspiration, I don’t think you can go wrong.” — Ella Fitzgerald
More succinctly, three words summarize nearly five years of grief work: The Present Moment
In this moment, what do I really want to do?
What do I need?
If I close my eyes, I turn the clock backward 2,517,123 minutes ago, when I said good-bye to my beloved in the driveway of the home we created together. I had no clue what would come next. I still have no clue. But for me, that’s the point.
It’s in the present moment I find my way.
If I have a plan, it is to take one step at a time, day by day, and trust the answers will come.
