Until Death Do Us Part

Yesterday I was faced with another one of those big hurdles for us widowed folk – a wedding.  My dear friend married the man of her dreams and began her life as a Mrs. 

This wasn’t my ‘first’ wedding as a widow, my best friend got married three week’s after Dan’s death.  While I attended that event, wore my bridesmaid dress and managed to stick around until after the formalities before excusing myself and going home to cry, I was still in deep shock at that point and the whole experience seems surreal to me now. 

So I guess you could say that yesterday’s wedding was the first that I was really present for. 

Leading up to the event I was delighted for my friend.  She is a wonderful person, as is her new husband - the type of people that genuinely deserve to find happiness.  They have a kind and generous love and an incredible appreciation for each other that very much reminded me of my own relationship with Dan. 

I knew it would be challenging to see another couple sharing their special day – so full of hope and potential – but, like many things, the reality was more difficult that I was ready for.

The day was full of moments that made my heart ache.  The vows... the exchanging of rings... the speeches... the endless references to living happily ever after.  Even just watching all the other coupled-up guests enjoying each other's company, I was not only faced with the constant reminder that my own marriage was so unfairly short-lived, but I missed the person I most wanted to share that day (and every happy day) with. 

I watched couples exchanging sweet, intimate smiles as they found their own relevance and meaning in the beauty of the day. I sat as partners danced closely with their significant others. I felt the love in the room and couldn’t stop wishing with every part of my being that my husband was there with me, holding my hand.

I exhausted myself, trying to keep it together, but there were many tears. The friends I sat with knew it was difficult for me and tried to offer comfort but I didn't want people to know much I was hurting.

I especially didn’t want the bride to see my pain – I was mortified at the thought of taking anything away from her beautiful day even though I knew, of course, that she would understand.

It’s important to note that there were also a lot of good things about the wedding. I had moments of really enjoying myself, I laughed with my friends and was filled with love and happiness for the beautiful couple.  I just wish so much that Dan had of been there too. I think he would have had a nice time and made friends with the new partners who have come in to our group since he passed. 

All day, despite trying so hard to fight it, I kept thinking: I can't believe we only got six weeks of our ‘happily every after’, it sucks so damn much.  I guess that will never NOT suck.  It will always be shit and unfair and painful as hell.  Hopefully just not as often.

Losing My "Widginity"

Ok. So. A LOT of things have happened in the past week for me. And just days ago, one of the biggest new firsts happened. One I have wondered about and feared and dreaded for two and a half years. I can't even believe I'm going to share this... like, PUBLICLY, but it's part of the journey. So here goes.

I spent this past week up in the Alaskan wilderness with Drew's mom, grandma, and aunt. His grandma is 91 years old and had never seen the northern lights, so we decided to take her. The trip was wonderful. We stayed at a remote lodge an hour and a half north of Fairbanks... and by remote I mean there is NOTHING out there but this lodge, some moose, and pure wilderness. No cell service. No internet. All their power is geothermal from the hot springs that run through the area. I had no idea of all this until we arrived, but I welcomed unplugging from the world for a while. So rarely do I get a chance to.

We went out Tuesday night for a viewing up on one of the nearby hills for the lights – and they were out all night long. For 4 whole hours, we enjoyed an incredible show. His grandma got to achieve one of her lifelong dreams. I captured pictures of the entire expereince for her and all of us to look back on. We also did a short sunset flight, a dogsled ride (yes, a 91 year old woman on a dogsled! And she wanted the ride to be even longer!) and got to drink appletinis out of glasses carved from ice. Spending this trip with two generations of my fiance's family was so incredibly special to me. To be there to watch his grandma enjoy a lifelong dream for him – my heart overflowed. To see the lights myself, to watch them dance thru the sky, brought me to tears. Because he brought me there. And he keeps bringing me to amazing places in this “after” life.

But something else happened on this trip. And its crazy and weird as shit to actually write this in conjunction with all I just wrote above... but... a VERY big personal milestone happened.... involving several beers and a VERY handsome young man who worked as a waiter at the lodge restaurant. Yeah, you know where I'm going with this. Everyone... after two and a half years, I officially lost my “widginity” as I am calling it - or widow virginity. 

And yeah that's an entirely appropriate way to say it I think, because the first time after the death of your loved one really is JUST as big of a deal as the real first time. Every first thing is. The first time someone holds you. The first time you kiss someone.  Hold hands. And definitely the first time you have sex. Everyone does this differently. Some folks jump right into it, others have to wait years. I have never been an impulsive person nor have I ever had casual sex before, so, I have ended up in the latter category. Sometimes unwillingly. I cannot express to you how many times I just want to be able to go ho it up. Don't judge, you know if you aren't ho'ing it up, you probably harbor this same secret wish... or you will at some point.

So as it goes down, I'm on the last night of my trip, at the lodge bar having a few drinks with the staff as they wind up for the night. Before long, an especially delicious looking waiter ends up joining me for drinks after his shift. I mean this guy could be a model. There is not an ounce of fat on him and muscles galore. Seriously not someone I would ever attempt to approach... then again, the new me lately seems to be full of surprises.

We chat a good while and get to know each other. When we leave the bar, we run into each other out on the trail back to our rooms. We chat a moment there in the cold, snowy wilderness, and I just think to myself “it's my last night, it's now or never, fuck it!”. I grab this gorgeous man and give him a kiss. Which leads to some heavy making out. Which leads to my asking to go back to his cabin.

Yeeeep. That's where it all happens... right there on the mattress... which is on the floor. Yes, the floor. It was like a Dirty Dancing sequel y'all. All we were missing was that "Hungry Eyes" song (which I so should have played since I have the soundtrack on my phone - damn the delayed realization!) This story is made even better by the fact that he had no bathroom... so I am forced to run the 30 or so feet to his outhouse in the cold (NINE degrees) in nothing but a blanket and my snow boots. Yes. You are welcome for the visual. Ah where life takes you when you live in the present moment - lol. 

All joking aside, the amazing thing is, it was nothing like I feared it would be. It wasn't traumatic. It didn't trigger me drastically. It didn't feel shallow or empty or like I was pushed into anything. We laid in bed, drank chocolate milk, watched comedy specials, laughed together, shared stories, and took our time with all the rest. I told him back at the bar about losing Drew, so that was out there already. Before anything happened, I was also very up front that this is the first time for me since he died. I wanted him to know that beforehand, because I was pretty sure I'd get upset at some point, and he needed to know why. I also said it so he could know this was a very deliberate and conscious decision which he needed to handle carefully and respectfully. 

Sure enough, shortly after we began to make love, I got overwhelmed. We stopped, and he just held me, and I cried in his arms for a few minutes while he reassured me that it was okay. I didn't have to say a word. In that moment, even though he barely knew me, all this man cared about was making certain I felt safe and cared for. And even though I barely knew him, and he was not Drew, I allowed myself to be cared for by him. I allowed myself to be cared for. That is HUGE. It was strangely beautiful to think - while in the arms of another man - how much it would make Drew happy to see me being cared for so lovingly. I swear I could feel broken pieces of my heart melding back together. 

We made love on and off for a few hours that night before he finally walked me back to my room. I say “made love” because it felt surprisingly like that, despite the fact that we barely knew each other. We weren't two broken people trying to use sex as a band-aid, we were two healthy people who made a conscious choice to share something beautiful together for a night. I've never had casual sex before this, so I honestly had no idea there could be love between near strangers that way. I was left so surprised by this - and even more surprised that I did it. I mean, who is this chick?! Ho'ing it up now whenever she damn well pleases, on her own terms,  and not beating herself up one bit about it? Whoever she is, I think I like her. My god I am full of surprises in this damned "after" life. 

The most wonderful part of this entire experience though was something even bigger. Seeing how it fit together with my love for Drew. It didn't make his space in my heart smaller. It didn't move him farther away from me or erase him or make my love for him any less. He was there in my heart, just the same, even through this experience. And when it was all over, and this sweet man walked me back to my room, kissed me one last time with a coy smile, and we said our goodbyes... I knew in a brand new way, that no one will ever be able to move Drew from my heart. No one will take his place. No one will erase him or take up more room than him in my heart. I learned in a brand new way that my heart will only get bigger to accommodate others, but that it will only begin to grow when it is healed enough and ready to. I think because I have not rushed this, and because I have waited until I truly felt ready, it has allowed it to be a positive experience. In the past few days following all this, it has only more deeply solidified the understanding in me that Drew isn't ever going anywhere. And I never have to be afraid - because I will not ever lose him twice. 

The First Date.

SO. After two and a half years… it finally happened.

I had my first date this week.

I can't even tell you how this happened. I had no idea this person would be interested and I've never much been interested in him either. It sort of came out of the blue… no real warning, no time for planning how I want to feel about this step. Just… bam, there it is, you're going on a date today.

I haven't even been able to really be friends with men since my fiancé died. It has just felt so weird. But lately, I've found myself feeling more comfortable being around men again. In fact, wanting to be around them. Maybe not romantically per say, but just, be around them. Building friendships with new men actually feels okay right now. Which is a HUGE deal. I used to have plenty of guy friends before, and I miss spending time around that male energy. I really do. So when someone offered to take me to lunch, somehow it didn't feel so awful. Instead of the "HELL NO!" I expected to hear from inside me, there was instead this sort of heavy sigh, which seemed to say "I'm so tired of pushing that away. Yes, please, take me out. I just want to feel what it feels like to be taken to lunch again".

HUGE. super freaking huge. I don't know when this change happened. But somewhere in the past several months I gather it has been growing. My counselor asked a month or two ago how I felt now about the idea of dating and instead of the immediate "nope" I've had for two and a half years… my answer was a very thoughtful "I don't know". That in itself is a big shift. And an unexpected one.

So… the date. It wasn't anything fancy - just a casual friend who recently said he was interested to know me more and offered to take me out for lunch. It felt easy and nonthreatening. He is enough of a friend to already know my story and of my fiancé - so that also made it a little easier, too.

I did plenty of freaking out about it beforehand of course. Because that's what I do now, about anything new since he died. "WHY did I say yes to that?! I'm no where near dating people - what am I doing?!" But then there was the other side of me… the side that is just… just so tired. Tired of being alone. Tired of NO ONE taking me ANYWHERE for two and a half years. Tired of not letting men in at all. And so I suppose that side won. And I decided to just let it be lunch. Like it was. And let it be about getting to know a friend on a little deeper level. Which it was. I decided not to let it mean all these other things. For today, no, I am just going to let a nice guy take me out. I am not going to give a shit what it means or where it goes or doesn't go or whether I'm ready or not ready… I'm just going to enjoy lunch dammit.

And you know what? I did. It was great. We had a really fun time - and the world didn't end afterwards. I realized something while there that surprised me. My whole experience of a date is completely different now than before I met Drew. And it is because I am different now. When I met Drew, I still had a lot of things I was working through in my life. Things that he helped me to heal in our time together. And now, I discovered on that date that all those demons I used to have when I first met Drew weren't in the way anymore. It was a beautiful thing.

I also realized that, because he died, my whole way of knowing people is different. I feel deeply honored when I sit down with anyone and we share our stories - both the good and the bad - with each other now. Sitting across the table from this guy last week was no different. I felt honored to have that exchange. Because time and people are so much more precious to me now than ever before.

It didn't feel wrong. And I didn't feel guilty. And I didn't even have the total nervous breakdown I thought I would have as I drove home. Actually, the opposite.

I just felt proud. I felt proud that I went on a date. I looked that enormous fear right in the face and I just said "Yep, I'm doin it". And I know you all know how totally perplexing and horrifying the idea of the first date is. God I was terrified, but a bigger part of me wanted to face it than was scared of it. And so I guess that is how it happens… when our desire to face our fears finally grows bigger than our fear of them.

Of course the whole thing has still wreaked havoc on my mind and emotions now the rest of the week after. I don't wanna paint a picture that this experience was all roses. Hell no. It triggered all sorts of shit. There are just places in my heart I don't go anymore… and one of those is into how it felt to have a man's attention. Most of the time, I don't even remember what it's like to have someone anymore. That sounds sad probably to some people, but it works for me, for right now. And I've gotten pretty used to it and okay with it.

And now, suddenly the week's events have brought it all flooding back. I remembered all the little things; date nights, learning about a new person, the butterflies and the excitement of the new beginning. And then later, the romantic stuff… movies together, back rubs, flowers, fancy home-cooked dinners, dancing, staying up all night talking and laughing harder than ever together… and just the way it FEELS when you have the attention of someone in that way. I really didn't need to feel all of that universe. Thanks.

I immediately found myself just wishing to skip past all the "getting to know each other"-ness because what I really miss is the deep stuff… the stuff two or three years in when you first learn how to really work well together and become totally cohesive. The total and complete trust. God I miss that. And all the little romantic things too of course… but really, most of all, the trust. It takes SO LONG to build a deep level of trust for me. It took 8 months for Drew to even convince me to go on a date, and by then we were best friends. A guy's gotta pass a LOT of tests to make it into my heart. It feels like climbing five mountains just to think about doing it all over again with someone new. And of course, immediately, I would really rather just have HIM. The person I already chose and wanted forever. UGH.

So there it is. The good and the bad of that whole experience. Honestly, the date couldn't have possibly gone better. And I am very glad I did it. He was polite and respectful, funny, smart, and we enjoyed each other's company. Most of all, I felt like Drew would have been really happy with our date and this fellow treated me. I think that's what made it feel the most okay… that he would have approved.

Despite that, I don't really expect any more to come of it. I don't think I am anywhere near being able to actually date someone new again, and so I'm quite happy for us to end up with this one date, and a new friendship. I think it was the best way for a first date to happen really - with no real expectations of anything more to come of it and a desire to be friends. Dipping a toe in the water. Baby steps - that's how we do things in this after life, after all, isn't it?

And I Danced

It turns out I had a couple of big things happen last weekend. Aside from last week's post, I also met up with my three closest girlfriends halfway between Austin and Dallas to celebrate my birthday. We went out Saturday night to a country dance hall. Now this is the first time I've ever really gone to a dance hall since he died. He and I used to go often - and I'd never gone before I met him... So naturally it didn't occur to me that men would be asking me to dance. But within just a few minutes of being there - guys were walking up and asking all of my friends and I to dance.

I didn't even know how to process that. I said no, to each one that asked. I had NO intention of dancing with a boy. Ew. A few asked why, so I dropped the widow bomb. That's definitely the quickest way to keep men from coming back around! So for a while my girlfriends and I just went about our way on the dance floor together, laughing and having a great time.

After an hour or so of processing this totally freaky new situation I was in… I began to hear a little whisper in me though. It wasn't "no" - it was something else. It was the thought that Drew would really want me to get out there and dance with a boy that night. It was my birthday weekend after all… and he was a sensible man. I know, if HE couldn't be there to dance with me, then by God he would want some nice boy to show me a good time on the dance floor. Who knows, maybe that little whisper was actually him. Telling me to lean into it a little, telling me it was okay. All I know is that suddenly it started to feel more okay.

I turned down a few other guys, because I just didn't get the right feeling about them. And then…
All my girlfriends were out dancing and I was standing just on the edge of the dance floor, leaning over the bar and sipping on my beer. And this sweet boy with glasses came up next to me and asked me to dance. I'd seen him dance with my girlfriends and they all seemed to think he was nice. I thought so too. Still, I told him no at first, and that I'm an awful dancer (which is true!). He prodded me a little, ensuring me it was really easy and he'd keep it simple. Unlike any of the other guys, he didn't give up when I said no the first time. And unlike any of the others, there was a real genuine kindness about him. Even in his prodding.

It was the sort of kindness that reminded me of Drew… back when he was prodding me to go on a date with him. I was a year out of an abusive relationship back then and terrified to date. And he was never pushy or demanding in his request - a gentleness and respect in the way he tried to persuade me. I felt all these same things from this boy asking me to dance.

Before I knew it, I agreed, and we were out on the dance floor together. And my inner dialogue went something like this: "Holy cow… I am DANCING WITH A BOY. Look at ME!!! How is this happening? Is this for real? What the hell is going on? This feels….. so…. NICE! How does this NOT feel more weird?!? How is this not upsetting? He's quite a good dancer. And he feels safe. And warm. And look at me… I'm actually dancing and not falling all over the place! How the hell does this feel okay?!?! How on earth am I holding the love I have for Drew in my heart and also dancing with someone else and it feels perfectly wonderful?!"

Not only did we dance, but we danced 5 or 6 times the rest of the night. And apparently I'm such a serial monogamist that I even do it with dancing… because I still wouldn't dance with anyone else that night. lol. He kept his word too, went very slow and kept things easy for me. He tried to spin me a few times - most of which went horribly wrong and ended in brilliant laughter. I would not say there was a spark or anything like that… but we sure laughed. And it didn't feel wrong to laugh with him either. It felt good to allow myself that. It felt beautiful. and Free. And strangely okay.

And then came the last dance. The bar was closing up, and we had one final dance together. About halfway through, he moved my hands to his shoulders and both of his hands to my waist and moved just gently closer to me. At first I panicked a moment, half nervous about tripping over his feet and half unsure of having an emotional breakdown. But I didn't stop… I kept dancing. And I let go of the fear. I closed my eyes, brushed my cheek slightly against his arm and just let myself be carried away in the moment... feeling a closeness to a man that I haven't felt in over two years. I was - for that instant - a little bit less afraid of letting in someone new.

Sure it was just a few dances. And no, there were no phone numbers exchanged or anything of the sort. Heck we barely talked to each other really. But we laughed. And we shared a kindness between each other that was so wonderful. And for one very small moment in time - I got the tiniest glimpse of how one day, it will feel warm and safe and beautiful to take the other first steps again, like going on a date, kissing, saying "I love you"... making love. And how maybe, just maybe, it won't be as painful and scary and horrible as I imagine it will be.

It made me realize that one day I will meet another boy with that same kindness - and I will know how to recognize that sort of kindness because of Drew. Because he was the first one to do it right. And in doing so, he will come with me into every new beginning I take.