To Be Proud? That Is The Question

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For some reason, this memory was lost in the chaos of my mind.

And for some reason I remembered it this week and have been thinking a lot about it.

When I went to Camp Widow West in August, I went to host the suicide round table and to spread word about my FMLA petition.

I’ve written about both before, so I will skip forward to my forgotten memory.

As I was flying home from Camp Widow, Ironically sitting a crossed the isle from me was Supa Freshwidow,

“Your name is Melinda right? You are here for your petition, right?”

Taken a little a back, I say “Yes”.

She introduces herself. Even though I have followed her facebook and blog for a couple years now, I didn't recognize her. I somehow missed her through the weekend at Camp Widow.

And here we were, flying from CA to UT, sitting a crossed from each other.

She asked me how the suicide round table went, and I explained that it went really well, and I was proud of myself. That hosting the round table helped me more than I expected it would.

She asked me about my petition, and if I was proud of myself.

I had to actually think about that one. “Am I proud of myself?”

After some thought, my response was “no”.

She looked at me like I was kinda crazy. And said something along the lines of “How can you not be proud of your petition? You can potentially help a lot of people!”

I again had to think about it. “I guess I’m not proud, because it’s something that just has to be done. The laws have to be changed.  It’s hard to be proud of myself when it’s just something that has to be done. It’s not like I came up with the cure for cancer. I’m just doing what needs to be done.”

She again looks at me like I’m crazy, and then says “You know it’s OK to be proud of yourself, right? You know it’s OK to toot your own horn, right?”

Me “I guess I don’t realize it’s OK to be proud of myself.”

This memory was locked away in my brain. I don’t know why.

I have thought a lot about this memory this week, and found myself asking “Are you proud now?”

The answer is no. (Yep, I said it).

I still feel like I’m just doing what needs to be done. I don’t feel like I have made some major change or discovery that will help all mankind.

Sometimes things just need to be done.

Like if I saw someone in distress, I would help them, just because it needs to be done. It’s something I wouldn't put much thought into; I would just reach out and help the person in distress.

I guess I’m not proud, because my job isn't done.

The petition is exhausting.

When I started it, I never thought it would be as hard as it is. I never thought I would be so emotionally involved with it that I would lose mass amounts of sleep over it.

It is mentally and physically exhausting.

Especially when I see someone who is newly widowed, having to go back to work immediately.

The laws haven’t been changed. I still have a long road ahead of me. And as long as I am on this road, I have to watch newly widowed people struggle with the exact laws I am trying to change.

It’s like a kick in the teeth. Knowing that the laws are flat out wrong and I can’t get the laws changed fast enough to protect newly widowed people.

I realized that not feeling proud of my petition is kind of like grief.

I don’t see the progress I have made. I just see that I haven’t reached the finish line.

Same goes for grief. I sometimes see small glimpses of my grief progress, but often times feel stuck and ashamed that I’m not “further along” in my grief. I haven’t reached the finish line in my grief.

I’m starting to realize with grief, there is no finish line. It will never end and my grieving will never suddenly reach the finish line.

Even if you can only see small glimpses of your progress, it’s OK to be proud of yourself.

It’s OK to toot your own horn. And to shout from the roof tops “Look, it’s been 29 months, and the monthly anniversary almost slipped by without me noticing!”

Be proud of where you are. Because if you are reading this blog, you have made progress.

You have stepped out, and looked for support.

That is a huge step.

Be proud of that.

Be proud of yourself!

(You can read my petition here and you can follow the faceboook petition page here - I post where the petition is heading and what support I need.)

Proud

After two weeks living in my new place, my new city, my new life, I am feeling at peace most of the time. The anguish of living in "our" house has lifted. My new life matches the new me a little better.
I'm meeting wonderful new people and finding new ways to heal. I've been sleeping through the night more often, a reflection of the peace I've been able to create for myself here.

Every time I think of the pain I felt while making the decision to sell the house and the actual moving process, I feel my mind shut down a little. I think that is its protective way of allowing me to forget just how bad that pain was. I remember it being painful but I don't remember exactly how that pain felt, viscerally. Thank god.

I am learning more than ever that we make of a situation what we want to. We manifest so much by the mindset we take on and that it is within our control to find the good in the bad.

But I can read about how I felt during this heart-wrenching time. I found a draft of a post I was going to work on and then publish but forgot about in the chaos of the move. I must have written it about four weeks ago. Reading it now is a good reminder of how sometimes my mind can be so convincing. It's in my power to make it convince me of good, instead of bad. Thankfully, during the pain, I held on to what, somewhere deep within me, I knew was right for me even though I was scared down to my bones.

Because now I'm where I need to be. As hard as it was. As much as it hurt and as much as I risked, I trusted in myself and I'm glad I did.


Here's the entry I wrote:

I've uncovered a new level of my feelings about selling the house. There was an offer. A good offer. And I accepted. Getting an offer I wanted on a house that's been on the market for one month is not something I think I can pass up. It's just that now I have a month to clear out. Eleven years' worth of a life, Dave's life and my life, to sift through and somehow put in two categories. Keep or let go of.
I've had to let go of so much already. I'm so tired of letting go.
But, I can't back out now. I have to confront this. I have to let go. Letting go is the lesson I have to learn. Over and over.
One of the things I've been feeling recently, that I was just able to identify, is how sorry I am that I'm letting go of our house. I feel like I'm letting Dave down. That house was our pride and joy. It was filled with love and light and comfort. And he helped to make it that way and now I'm giving it up to someone else. Am I giving up on it? I feel like apologizing to Dave.
I know that I'll carry his love, our love, in me no matter where I go. I know that the house is just stuff. Sticks, bricks, siding, furniture, not our actual beings or our actual love.
But when I let the feelings come, that's what surfaces. I feel sorry. I feel like I've let Dave down. I feel like I'm giving up something too wonderful to ever find again. I guess I'm worried I'll never have that peace again. And the house is just the physical representation of that.
Nothing changes the fact that a BIG house on 12 acres is not something I want to try to deal with on my own. That kind of isolation might be great for someone who is settled, but I'm just no longer settled. I'm finding my way in a whole new life. I have to let go. I am not married anymore. Accepting that is heart breaking.

There have been several moments since I've moved out that have made me imagine Dave rooting for me proudly. I can just see him pumping his fist in the air and yelling, "THAT'S what you're capable of! I KNEW it!"

I think he'd respond to those words I wrote in a dark time, "Don't be sorry. Don't you dare. You did what you needed to do and I'm so proud of you".

So I'm not sorry. I didn't let him down. I didn't let us down. I make him proud and, even more importantly, I make myself proud.