Widow's Voice

What I’ve Been~

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In my life

I’ve been quiet and loud

Still and vibrant

Strong and vulnerable

Smiled and cried

I’ve been a Highland dancer

A belly dancer

And a hoop dancer

There was so much joy in me

As I danced.

 

Since your death I’ve pushed myself to do what I’d never considered doing…

I’ve been a goddess

Competed in a warrior dash

Worked at a Renaissance faire

Costuming is my thing, now.

Perhaps I’m searching for my truest self.

Perhaps I seek magic in a life where magic is hard to come by.

I don’t honestly know. I just follow my heart’s lead and don’t question it.

It’s my own personal therapy, keeping me moving and exploring.

A few years in I sought to find the woman I’d been with you…

Sensual. Filled with passion.

Leading me to seek out a burlesque class.

I’ve gotten tattoos to honor our Love.

The last tattoo artist told me that everyone begins with one and ends with one, as they connect.

He maybe right in that.

I have five now. All of them drawn in pink.

I have another one already planned.

I’ve walked in solitary on far west beaches,

Lost in thought, wandering fitfully.

And I’ve purposefully put myself in the midst of strangers to tell my story.

Our story…

A story that continues on, without your physical presence.

I’ve shaved my head

When the pain and grief became too intense

and it was shear off my hair

or die.

But I’ve also attempted lovelocks,

That didn’t end well but the intent was a good one.

Perhaps, that first time, I was remembering when you locked my hair for me.

That didn’t end well either, and I remembered the sigh in your voice after you’d spent hours and hours on my hair and finally went to bed, only to half wake to me asking what would you think if I took some of these locks out? They’re hurting my head, and you dryly responding do whatever the fuck you want to do. I’m going to sleep. You were so patient…

I’ve pushed to keep my heart open to Love even when it wanted to shut down because the grief was unbearable. Impossible. Soul searing. Shredding. Incapacitating. Horrifying. Devastating. Even as I’ve felt dislocated. Discombobulated. Disoriented. I’ve kept my heart open, by god, and I strive every damn fucking day to honor your Love. Our Love. Love. And I promise that I’ll always do that. No matter what. I will always, always, be fierce about Love.

But you know what, my beloved D?

The greatest thing I’ve done, ever, is open my heart to you.

To your Love.

The greatest thing I’ve ever done

Was to Love you in this life.

To take you as my husband, my lover, my adventure buddy.  You were my knight, and I was, as I used to tease, your femme fatale.

Our shared Love is what keeps me going now.

It’s what will keep me going until that breath that is between this one and the last one shivers through me and I find my way to you again.

Wait for me in the stars, D. Look for me, and I’ll find you.

Promise…

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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