Stumbling Proudly

I've been feeling the strains of beginning anew lately. Let's face it - starting to date someone is always messy. New person, new energy, new triggers and sensitivities. But being widowed makes it even trickier. After almost 3 years without a man by my side... I am a completely different person than who I was with Drew. I am far more independent. I don't even think of it as being alone these 3 years, but that I have been in a very deeply committed relationship to myself. I'm discovering this is making it hard for me to navigate the landscape of a relationship with someone new.

I found a rhythm there, in the space of my solitude. I have come to a place inside myself where I deeply and genuinely love being alone. Where - much of the time - I would prefer to share time only with myself rather than others. A place where my solitude leads me into creative worlds unlike any other... allows me to see the world in new ways and the focus to ponder deeply on subjects which I often write about or photograph in my work. Being alone has in fact become my very favorite place.

And so the question is... just how do I navigate bringing another heart into my sphere? How do I balance these two worlds? How do I do so in a way that doesn't push this person away - and does not make me feel like I am cheating on myself? How do I help him to see and know it isn't personal, but something far deeper and more spiritual for me? That ample, deep, rich, free times of solitude are what root me deeply enough in myself to be my happiest self and do my best creative work?

I don't have any answers right now... which I hate.

The hardest part is that this is a new part of me. I never dealt with this in my relationship with Drew. I had a 9-5 job like most folks. And when I was off, I spent majority of my time, gladly, with him. But being a working artist and being who I have become is a whole other ballgame. My work never stops. My work and my life have become one thing - and solitude is a very integral part of that. I have to make efforts daily to isolate from friends, family, media and all the rest of the world in order to keep my creativity flowing. It is a constant fight for balance - even before he came into my world.

Today I think, I will allow myself a break. This is the first time I am doing any of this. The first time I am setting out to create a business deeply tied to my emotional and spiritual self. The first time I am learning how to live again after losing the love of my life. The first time I am letting new love in and the first time I am learning how to carve out space to still be committed to myself. And I haven't a clue what I am doing. In any of those areas. And that's OKAY. All I can do is my best... to take care of me, and to keep my heart and my creative work a priority, and to make room for this new person in my world to the best of my ability. And I think I am trying really hard to do all of those things.

I guess the most important thing is to remember... I am learning. The new woman I am has different needs than the one I used to be. It's going to take time to get to know what she needs out of a relationship and out of life. Naturally, I am fumbling. I am falling. I am tripping all over myself. I am making mistakes. I am thrown totally off center. I am having freakouts. I am stressed, and confused, and feeling a bit lost... BUT, I am learning. I am loving and laughing. I am sharing and growing. I am enjoying this new person who brings me so much joy... who has been doing his own learning through all of this messiness. I am living life again.

Sure, it's messy. But often times it is the messiest parts of our life that teach us the most. Drew's death taught me that, and it's an important lesson I need to remember. Adventures are never without hardship. They are always filled with a level of uncertainty. The beautiful part is that - for the first time since he died - my mind is now preoccupied with the new ventures in life... not with grief and death. That alone tells me I've come a long, long way.

No matter how chaotic my world is right now, I am glad for all the reasons it is. I am glad to have work that matters to me. I am glad to have formed a bond with myself over these years that I now deeply cherish. I am glad there is a new person in my world that I want to make room for... even if I haven't figured out how to best do that just yet. I am glad I don't know what I am doing and it feels challenging and everything seems uncertain - because it means I am living life adventurously. And I know in my heart Drew would be so proud of how I am facing the challenges that all of these new adventures in my life are bringing. Let's do this.

Setting a Standard

Shelby needs to have an example of what a caring, devoted man, father, and husband should be.  She is a mere 8 years old, but I believe most readers here will understand when I state that, well, I might not be here by the time she's 18.  It's a cold, hard truth that should never be swept under the rug or glossed over, and I can unfortunately speak from experience.

She needs standards, before she even sniffs at being interested in boys.  I can only hope that I've been, and will continue to be an example to her.

She needed to see that a man can allow and encourage her to be independent, but to always support her in a time of need.

She needed to see that a man will sacrifice his own happiness, not in love, obviously, but in general for his wife's well-being.

She needed to see that a man will hold his wife's hair for 1.5 hours, every morning for a decade, as she has her routine coughing fits, and that it is never seen as normal to him.

She needed to see that a man will be calm and collected and able to make informed, quick decisions when faced with his wife coughing up pints of blood.

She needed to see that a man will carry his wife to bed when she can't walk up the stairs, and that it is always effortless.

She needed to see that a man will bathe his 33 year old wife as she cries, because she can no longer do it herself.

She needed to see that no amount of sickness, frustration, or trauma will ever make a man walk away from a woman he truly loves.

She needed to see that 12 years is not nearly enough time for a man to give all of his love to his wife.

She needed to see that a man can be strong most of the time, but it's OK for them to cry when their goddamn wife dies.

She needs to see that a man will fulfill his vows, in sickness and in health, until death does him part from his wife.

She needed to see what true love is, and she needs to see it again.

She needs to see that though a new woman may be now part of his life, a man can and will still love his wife, and the mother of his beautiful daughter just as much.

She needs to see that a man in this situation will make smart decisions about bringing a new woman into his daughter's life.  Decisions not based on loneliness.

She needs to see that a child is always the priority for a man, but he is able to balance that with someone new that he truly loves.

She needs to see what it's like for two smart, experienced adults to meet and fall for each other in a healthy way.

She needs to see that a man can only expand his heart with love for another person, rather than replace space that someone else previously held.

She needs to see that a man should have his own drive and determination, but that the women in his life will always factor into that.

She needs to see that a man can lose his wife, but still have the confidence to move forward and keep living life without fear.

She needs to see that a man will always honor, cherish, and respect a woman's past, and know that it is what makes her who she is.

She needs to see that a man will always tell his worst truth, rather than his best lie.

She needs to see that lightning can indeed strike twice.

Shelby needed to see me love and take care of Megan for those years. As much as it pains me to say this, Megan becoming sicker and dying was another learning experience for her.  She learned that although her dad bent over backwards, he didn't break, and would walk to the end of the earth for the woman he loves.  He didn't shut down or stop taking care of his one remaining piece of his wife.  She deserves to be honored, respected, loved, and taken care of by a man just as much as I honored, respected, and loved Megan.

As I'm writing this, I'm realizing that Megan also set a standard for Shelby, upon which she can judge all women.  She has briefly met this new woman, just through a video call, and she has fully approved.  She has even made the statement that she is "magnificent", and she can't wait to do things with her.  To have Shelby not only approve, but to encourage me to love the new woman means the world to me, because Shelby is the closest I will ever come to having Megan's approval.

Shelby knows I deserve a woman that loves me just as much as her mother did.  She knows that whatever woman comes into my life will need to be strong, driven, smart, and ultimately, will need to accept that Megan is and always will be a part of our lives.  She knows that no woman could ever replace Megan, and that a new one should only compliment her.

She knows that this new woman fills out all of those check-boxes.

No matter what anyone else's opinion is on new love, there is only one person's that matters to me, and that is Shelby's.

I need to ensure that as I move forward with this new woman that the example I set with Megan continues on.  Megan is no longer here to advise Shelby on these matters, so all I can do is lead by example.

I am setting the standard by which Shelby will judge all men.

Two Versions of Love

I have been thinking a lot lately about something Michele Neff Hernandez, our editor, said in a workshop over a year ago about finding new love. Back then, I was nowhere near wanting new love. But I knew someday I would want it. So I attended this workshop at Camp Widow in Tampa, and listened to what she had to say. The thing I remember most is her explaining that her new husband is the perfect fit for the new Michele. And her first love was the perfect fit for THAT Michele. She was two different women, and there was in fact a perfect match for each of them. 

I've held onto this bit of wisdom a long time. I like the idea of it, although I have not been able to grasp just what that feels like until now. How right she was. 

It's a very surreal feeling. I have this new person I've spent the past few months getting to know. A new energy. But also a familiar one. He is quite similar to Drew in a lot of ways. His character and integrity are rock solid. He and Drew would have been fast friends in fact, of that I have no doubt. He is kind, patient, ambitious and incredibly dedicated - just as Drew was. He's a goofball and a big kid at heart, just like Drew. But there are differences too. He is more creative, and more sentimental than Drew was. He's a talker and Drew was a bit more the silent type (I laugh at him frequently in fact for talking as much as I do... which is A LOT) Somehow, I always thought that "differences" would be a bad thing. That I would see someone new as "less than" Drew and end up comparing them a lot. I haven't been able to really see Michele's idea play out personally until now. So I have been very scared of that - of my love for Drew getting in the way of seeing and appreciating a new man. 

This hasn't been the case at all. It's exactly as she described to me two years ago. In fact, the differences between them have made me appreciate both of them even more. There are things I loved about Drew that the new guy doesn't share. And there are things about the new guy that I really love that Drew didn't share. I think that is the most surprising part of all... that there could be qualities in a new man I could love just as much... and the differences actually enhance the whole experience instead of diminishing it. 

It is plainly true, I am a new and very different person from the woman I was when Drew died. I'm sitting here right now wondering how on earth I got from June 12, 2012 to writing about some new man. This whole journey is surreal. But I am beginning to learn some new things about love. It is possible to have two matches... one for the woman I was, and one for the woman I am. And for neither of them to compete or be less or more than the other - just two different versions of the same beautiful thing: love. 

Are there are moments when I compare the two of them? Moments when I wish Drew was here instead? Moments when all of this feels upsetting and overwhelming and I just want to run to the arms of the one who is no longer here? Absolutely. I'm only human. And those moments are teaching me things too. Like that fact that this new person is in no way threatened by my love for Drew. Quite the opposite, we talk about him all the time. It is like they know each other... like we are all family. 

The last time I got upset and was feeling conflicted about the two of them, he said to me, "You are allowed to love Drew the very same amount that you love me. Forever. It never has to be any less, and it never will be, nor should it be". I cried, and I let my guard down completely for the first time in a long time. How beautiful it was to receive those words. To receive the love of this new man, only because Drew died. I did not know it was possible, but the love of this new man has actually made me feel Drew's love tenfold, and made me love him even more. And it has shown me that really, in the end, it is all just love flowing between us. Between Drew and I, between this new man and I, and between them, too. 

relationships with risk

source

My morning runs always seem to be my time where I figure out life's puzzles (or find more life questions to ask). There's something about that me time when I can reflect, pray, organize my thoughts, and focus on myself that is very centering.

This morning I felt a little disappointed about the relationships in my life. With life changing so much in the last 6 months or so, I've noticed a lot of people stepping back. And I get it, I really do. My life stays so busy now with a house of seven. But I have not stopped needing any of those relationships in my life, or craving them. I know that since my life no longer qualifies as "tragic" and people assume I'm all "better" they've stopped calling, writing, commenting, coming around, or even talking about Jeremy. This breaks my heart, and makes grief harder. There are still those few people who are very dear to me who have been there for me when I need them, but overall I've noticed a change. 

The change is not only grief related. For whatever reason, I've had multiple friendships throughout my life that have dissipated due to elements out of my control or for reasons I didn't even know about. It's one of the hardest transitions to go through in relationships; feeling like you would do anything you can to fix/change/maintain the relationship, and it moves on without you. 

No matter how much I tried to distract myself with other things this morning during my run, my brain kept going back to that hurt and I kept wondering 'why do I bother letting people in so close if I always end up getting so hurt by it?' People I let close either die or leave. This was a hard reality to choke down today.

But the truth I discovered this morning was that I keep seeking out and aching for those relationships because they're life-changing. Those relationships, whether short-term or long-term, have made me who I am and have taught me so much along the way. Sure, there's risk involved - that's true of any relationship. But the risk is worth it. It's worth the risk to have a friend who can share life's burdens with you so you don't have to carry them yourself. It's worth the risk to have a relationship with someone who knows you're crazy and loves you anyway. 

I could safe-guard my heart and stay away from getting too close to people who could really hurt me. But then, how safe would that actually be when I am missing out on one of the biggest blessings in life? How safe would it actually be for me when I end up carrying all my baggage alone? A girl could get seriously hurt doing that. 

So, I'll stand by, waiting for transition to take its course and trying to remember that the risk is worth it. I will also continue to pray that I can embrace and invest in those special people in my life now and be a worthy risk for someone else.

The Luckiest

I have music on a loop that I listen to in the car.  There is one song that never fails to reduce me to tears: Ben Folds, The Luckiest.

I don't often feel lucky.
(I mean, who here really feels that luck has been shining on them?) 
Sudden death really doesn't count in the "lucky" stakes.

In fact, in the three years leading up to the accident, we lost both Greg's parents to the most hideous of cancers.  This left he and is siblings at odds over the will with Greg the person in the middle trying to make everyone happy, whilst making himself miserable in the process.

...and he'd just managed to get everyone to a shaky agreement, but was dead within months.


Suddenly
Brutally.
Dead.

"Lucky" was not a description I would have used to describe our lives.


Until I started to think about it.

Because Greg and I, we were The Luckiest.

Not many people get to marry the love of their lives. 

Many never even get to meet them.

But we did both.

Inseparable from the moment we met and fell in love.



We had a love that was real and solid.
Never wavering.
Never faltering.

We finished each other's sentences and could tell what the other person was thinking with a look.

We laughed at the same things and we cried at the same things.

We were are soulmates who balanced each other perfectly.

We loved.

Deeply.

Completely.

Soul-shaping love.

...and what we had (still have) was so rare and beautiful, that we really were among  The Luckiest people on the planet.