Chchchanges....

I'm meeting the moving company today to inventory my house and take the next step in the move from Houston back to Austin. It's a big and quick change for us, and I've been forced to think a lot about life planning and what my intentions are both personally and professionally.

Professionally this move is a good one for me, although I'm leaving behind my current job with some regret. It was a great job, great people, and I really enjoyed it. The next one will likely prove to be great as well. Great people, great job, ever increasing opportunity, etc.

Personally this move is a good one for me and for Grayson. We will be once again living in Austin, surrounded by lots of loving friends and family. We had a network in Houston that we will miss, but the Austin network is GINORMOUS :) and I think it's the best place for my little guy to grow up.

Knowing it is the right thing to do and doing it seems like a simple process, but in practice it is challenging. I think it was Michele who talked about once again learning to hear your inner voice and being able to act upon it. I'm hearing mine and acting upon it, but I still want to call Daniel and ask him his opinion on the decision. I wish there was a giant cell tower in heaven that would connect us even if only for a moment. Making decisions completely on your own after years of collaboration is an adjustment. I do it, but I'd rather have my partner to vet the whole thing with. I just have to go with my gut, he'd support me on this one I'm sure.

So, onward we go. Back to Austin. Back home. After the angst of making the choice to fly that direction, I'm now just looking forward to the landing. Hey Austin, we're almost there!

Happy Tuesday - Michelle D.

What I Believe In

Before Phil died I could have easily created a long list of my personal beliefs. This list would have included ideas about both the tangible and the intangible; broad concepts and specific ideals; God and mortal beings. There would probably even have been a mention of death and eternity...but only in the abstract because my beliefs about death were untested until August 31, 2005.

The day I lost my husband was the same day that theory became reality, and faith became more than just a concept to which I paid lip service. Grief is the ultimate test of faith. Faith requires trust. Death robbed me of a sense of security, making the idea of trust incomprehensible. And the whole vicious circle renewed itself daily as I attempted in vain to determine why I was living a sorrow filled nightmare. My inability to escape the reality of widowhood forced me to evaluate my beliefs and determine whether or not they could withstand the blinding glare of grief.

I imagine the following personal truths as tall pillars that I view through a cloud of dust and rubble created by a major earthquake. Though everything around these support beams has fallen, they miraculously remain. I rub my eyes to look again, because for any structure to survive an earth shattering experience of this magnitude seems impossible...and yet these columns stand tall amongst the debris of loss and grief.

I believe in everlasting love. I believe that God is not a being who resides in a structure, but a spirit who lives in the hearts, and hands, of loving people. I believe that the length of your life is not an indication of your impact on the world. I believe that time is indeed a gift. I believe that human beings have the power to heal each other. I believe that shared experience can bond individuals in a unique and life changing way. I believe that our lives are a tapestry and each experience, wonderful or terrible, adds richness to the final fabric. I believe that tomorrow is only a dream. I believe that life is too short to hold grudges. I believe that people are inherently good. I believe that buying lemonade from my daughter at her new job is more important than spending an extra hour at my own work. I believe that the people who come into my life do so for a reason. I believe that kindness changes lives. I believe that this too shall pass. I believe that life is a gift, but like all gifts must be opened to be appreciated.

These are a few of the pillars that have survived my personal earth quake. I lean on them when I feel unable to stand. When grief occaisonally stirs the dust of sorrow, I look for them to steady my course. My widowhood experience has taught me that when faith requires me to walk forward blindly, those pillars will guide the way.

Humbled

I did not want to be a widow. In fact, it is safe to say that I would have liked to be just about anything BUT a widow. It took awhile for the reality to set in...I was a WIDOW. Ugh. That word, the dreaded title, the image of a shriveled up person with a love that died, the imagined black veil, the wedding ring that no longer meant married...I hated every single thing about the concept of widowhood.

And then I met you. The survivors; the lovers; the compassionate, warm, hilarious, life affirming people that also wear the label~widow.

What I have learned over the past four years is that I was completely wrong about widows (surprised?). I thought only women who have lived the best parts of their lives already could be widows-wrong. I thought that widowed women cry all day long every day and never laugh at life's ironies-wrong. I thought that young widows were a minority-wrong. I thought that older widows and younger widows had nothing in common-wrong. I thought that no one would understand the depth of my pain-wrong. I thought that being a widow meant that life would never again hold any promise for me- really, really wrong.

And you, yes you, taught me that. None of us join this crazy club purposely. I have yet to meet a woman who hasn't spent a good amount of time hating her widowhood. But I have also met a lot of women who have learned to embrace this unwanted life transition. Somehow from the ashes of tragic loss amazing flowers have bloomed. We didn't choose this, but we won't let death rob us of both our husbands and ourselves. Flourishing in the face of death is the most incredible way of honoring the love we hold in our hearts for those we have lost. I am inspired by you, each and every day. Thank you for sharing your journey with me.

This photo is of Michelle Dippel (Ms. Tuesday) and I at the Embrace Life Awards in Bloomington, Illinois. State Farm Insurance selected me as one of the 2009 Embrace Life Award Honorees. My fellow widows taught me how to rise like a phoenix from the ashes of sorrow, and I am proud to be one of you.

The Joy

John Clarke once said, "True love is the joy of life." Now I don't know John but after this past week I have to add on to these words of inspiration he probably spoke many years ago.

Now as I personally know, true love is hands down numero uno in my joy book but the second greatest joy is being around others who have been touched by its graces. This past week, as Nicole mentioned in her blog, we've been at another AWP event. Sydiving with the Golden Knights and doing a "Celebration of our hero's lives" golf tournament was amazing, but seeing the smiles on the faces of my fellow widows and hearing their stories of true love is what makes these outings so amazing.

The true love Michael and I share definitely still is my driving force through the tangled web I call life, and it still brings me more happiness then any physical thing here. But hearing and feeling as if I am a part of my fellow widow's continuation of their own love is an experience I am honored to even have a glimpse of.

"True love is the joy of life"-John Clarke..........But I have got to add this as its successor.......
"It is in hearing and seeing the true love of my loved ones that my own is further solidified." - Taryn Davis

Teens Taking up the Slack - Sweet Sixteen.

It is Anneke’s ‘Sweet Sixteen’ today.

On the one hand, I can’t really believe this day has arrived and her father is still gone. Like somehow, at some point he should have walked in the front door and with little fanfare saying “I’m back.” It has been 8 plus years. She has been without him longer than she had him. I should know better by now.

On the other hand, her best friend threw her a surprise birthday last night and it is clear my daughter knows she is loved. Truly loved. Her friends came through in an enormous way and all the way home Anneke smiled and shook her head in disbelief. “Awesome,” she kept saying, “Awesome, just awesome.” Her memory of Sweet Sixteen will be joyous. I am grateful.

As usual, each holiday and special occasion is a mixed bag. We celebrate the moment, and understand who is still missing. But we really do celebrate. Last night was a festive occasion for Anneke and she was all about love and appreciation and happiness. No doubt today she will think about who is missing but it will not dominate.

My gift to her was a car key. Tomorrow she gets her drivers permit. We have done some parking lot practicing to prepare her for the road. I miss her father when I am in the passenger seat. I was not cut out to teach driving. I pray the whole time my right foot is jammed into the floor…“Dear God. Hear my prayer…”

And yet, I must admit, there is a little part of me that is quite happy to teach her driving. We have had some laughs, a few anxious words and I have told Anneke she must stop saying “I know Mom” when I repeat an instruction for the zillionth time. We have had memorable moments that I would not have had if Mike had been here. Like when she mistook the gas for the brake…. (We were in a very big parking lot and I promise you it will not happen again…)

Life goes on. I appreciate every moment and every contribution from friends and family. I appreciated what our children do for each other and how they understand each other. They fill in the blanks, doing what their parents cannot, just because parents are parents.

Our children are in good hands.

Mie Elmhirst, Widows Breathe Coaching

Celebrating the Journey at Hole 8

This week is a big week for the widows in my life- the military widows of The American Widow Project. Wednesday, we had our first annual charity golf tournament for the organization. Each golf hole was dedicated to the soul mate of an AWP member.

I spent the entire day on a golf course in North Carolina with about 120 supporters and 15 military widows. It was most definitely one of those days when you have to take a step back and shake your head in disbelief. So many supporter. So many survivors. And I am both.

I watched these 15 widows play golf, interact with strangers, hand out prizes, and laugh out loud. They were living life. Something I, at one point, thought I'd never be able to do again. Time and time again "life" surprises me. Shocks me, even. And pushes me. All 15 of us have very different stories in comparison. We're at different points in our journeys. But there we were in one place celebrating one thing... Life. The lives of our soul mates and our lives as survivors.

At hole 8 I found myself smiling from ear to ear... because if I must walk this journey... that was exactly where I wanted to be on that day at that moment with those women. I was celebrating this journey... as were they.

Masks ....

.... are very heavy to wear for a long period of time and they tend to make my face sweat.

I really thought that I was done wearing them after Jim died.  I couldn't wear them.  I didn't have the energy to snap them into place and keep them from sliding off.

So I didn't.

But now, now that it's a year and a half later, I am finding out that some people prefer the masks.  I don't think they actually realize that they do, but they don't need words to convey this message.

Our society seems to think that there is a time-limit on how long one should grieve.  Of course, no one would dare say that .... at least not to my face, but they think it.  

And they think that I should be moving on ..... every day getting better and better.

Sometimes when I realize they're thinking this, I wonder if there's something wrong with me?

Should I be happier?  Should I not ever be depressed?  Should I be ready to find a new love?

And then I thank God that I am strong enough to know that the answer to those questions is firmly, "No!"

There is no time limit on how long I will grieve the death of the only man I've ever loved.  There is no limit to the pain I feel at not having my best friend here with me.  

There is no limit to the loneliness I feel in mothering my children without their father.

I know that I will feel better.  

I know that I will adjust to this new life.

I know that I will be happy again.

But I also know that I don't have those dates circled on my calendar.

Don't get me wrong .... I would LOVE to know when all of this will occur!  I'd LOVE to wake up tomorrow and feel like a new person with a huge amount of joy and zest for life.

But I'm not stupid.

And so I wait.

And I enjoy the good times.

And I grieve during the sad times.

And, because it's easier to just "get along" ..... I sometimes snap on a mask.

It certainly makes me sad to feel that I have to do that.  No one should have to do it.

But ..... thankfully (for them), not everyone "gets" this life, do they?

And because I do have to sometimes wear a mask ..... I am ever so grateful for the people in my life who do not require me to wear them.  

I'm grateful for the people who love me enough to want to know and see and feel as much of my pain and grief as they can.

I am grateful for the people who are not watching their calendars with a skeptical eye.

I am grateful for love.

Amazingly deep, unconditional, safe love.

And I pray that I can always provide that kind of love for the other women on this path.

Because each one of you is a safe person who requires no mask.

And to you I say, "Thank you."

And "Please lock your mask away whenever we speak.  You are amazingly wonderful in just being you."