You

I have the very distinct honor of leading a group of the most compassionate people I have ever met. Really. When I tell someone what I do for a living, I am generally met with a questioning look and an awkward silence. Since I don't look like a widow ;) the person across from me generally spends a few seconds trying to figure out WHY I am the director of an organization that supports people who are grieving the loss of someone they love. Many times the assumption is made that I am just that kind of giving person, one who reaches out to the downtrodden, grief stricken, mourners of our world.

But I have a secret. Even though I am a card carrying member (um, the initiation is intense!) of this club, I receive more from this organization than I give. Each and everyone of you are amazing. Our facebook page is filled with support to and from one widowed person to another. The comments left on this blog create the framework for a support network that reaches across barriers of all kinds: geographical, religious, political, situational. Over and over again you all prove the point that we are stronger together. We are facing all of the difficult days in solidarity. Whether our challenge is a National Holiday, a deathiversary, a birthday (yours, your spouse's, your kids), or one of those private heart wrenching days no one else would recognize...we all know there is someone associated with Soaring Spirits that will understand, completely.

This week SSLF is hosting holiday parties in four different states (CA, TX, WA & NY). Why? Because we need each other. And I can't think of any better way to start this holiday season than by being surrounded by people who understand me, and you. I think of attending these parties (and I will be at three of them!) as a way of getting my holiday vaccination! The love and support of my widow community will give me the boost I need to run the race of the next five weeks. I want to take this opportunity to thank my board members (Barbara, Michelle, and Patience) and one special Camp Widow attendee who has spearheaded the party in Seattle (Dana!) for their tireless efforts in support of widows across the country, and around the world.

If you are a widowed person, or love a widowed person, or wish to support a great cause...join us. And if you aren't close enough to come by, know that you are well represented, and with all of us in spirit.

See, that is my secret. I carry all of you with me in spirit. Thank you for reaching out a hand to another widowed person. We are all better, and stronger, for every single outstretched hand.

Take It All

We are all at a standstill. You and me.

You poised to help, not knowing what to do.

Me, on the other side, wanting help, not knowing what to ask for.

Art’s presence has been with me all day.

I just stood in my kitchen crying.

Pallas looking on, hugging me.

"This is so hard." I said

'I miss him too, Mommy." she said.

And I want dinner delivered tonight… food that I would feed them.

And I want my kids fed and washed and put to bed… the way I put them to bed.

And I want the bills paid…the way I pay them

And I want someone to take away his music. I want to hear nothing.

And I want someone to take away his clothes, his everything.

If I can get to the nothing, the longing will go away. The hope that, maybe this time, when I walk into our bedroom, he’ll be there bald and laughing, will disappear.

I want to erase all this.

It won’t hurt if it’s gone.

Fuck.

Tough Month

"December is the toughest month of the year. Others are July, January, September, April, November, May, March, June, October, August, and February." Mr. Twain hit the nail on the head with this quote, but December truly is a month that tests my perseverance more then the other 11 on the calendar.

I think as widows/widowers there are times of the year that are just a straw away from breaking the camel's back. Those times where if someone just looks at you funny you burst out in tears. Plus, the holidays just add to the burn that is already present in one's heart.

December is all encompassing of all I've mentioned above. It's a time with cheer, lights, parties, gifts, family, yada, yada, yada. Overall, it's a time that can be a tad hard to swallow when the person you'd most like to enjoy it with is not around. Add your wedding anniversary, and birthday to the mix and it makes it even more of a test of this "strength" we have.

The first "Hell Week" (Dec. 21-28) was not a good one. The family didn't know how to handle Christmas, I drowned myself in my sorrow, my eyes were swollen from crying and my voice hearse from screaming, "Why!!??" repeatedly. Now don't get me wrong, I went into it hoping to make it one Michael would look down and smile upon, I just wasn't ready to see the "roses and beauty" this darkness of a time held.

The second "Hell Week", was a tad better. I tried a new haircut, shared it with one of my dearest widow friends, stayed up sharing stories, looked at photos, cried tears of joy of things I've been blessed to have, but overall a huge change from the previous year.

This year I have no clue what way the emotional wind will be blowing, but I'm ready to pull up the "sail" and let it take me where it wants me to go. That's all I can really ever do in this life. Good times and bad. Happiness and sadness. January, May, October....December. No matter how tough they may be.

Yeah, I don't even know if there is a message to this. It's kind of a chex mix of a post, so I'll end it on that note :)

musical memories

Photo by Misspiepie

Today, as I scanned through my CD collection in search of something mellow yet fun to listen to while doing housework, I found that every. single. bloody. CD had some memory intertwined in its' melody.
I found myself sobbing due to the fact that I am the one now, the ONLY one, who remembers dancing in the wheelhouse of the boat in the middle of the night to Van Morrison with my head upon his chest. The one who can recall playing "Smooth" in my little truck on the way to Port Hardy and singing at the top of our lungs. The one who has stored in my head the long ago deleted messages of Jeff singing Jeff Healey's "Angel Eyes" for me to find in the morning on the answering machine.
Each of these memories are sacred and terrible. I love them. I want to keep them. But they pain me with a new and fresh pain.
I had been shying away from these memories. Hiding them in the bottom of my brain's sock drawer. So now at 20 months out, I can either play the music, have a big ole pity party for myself that will last god-knows-how-long...or I can buy some new music.
So tomorrow, I am heading to the music store. I need a soundtrack that'll make me light on my feet, not heavy in the soul.

The Empty Seat Beside Me

Before Phil's death, Thanksgiving Day was filled with gratitude for the gifts of the present. Then death changed my focus, and the past was were my heart longed to be.

On my first widowed Thanksgiving Phil's empty seat at the dinner table represented only my personal loss. Knowing he would never again sit bside me as we spoke aloud the things for which were grateful, around our Thanksgiving table, made the empty space beside me pulsate in my mind's eye. My heart radiated pain, and sitting through the meal required every drop of determination I possessed. The laughter around the table hurt my ears, the sadness my entire family felt burned my eyes like gas, and every thing for which I was grateful was somehow associated with grief.

The following year when Thanksgiving dinner came around, I found myself feeling more bitter than sad...that unoccupied seat beside me emphasizing the obvious fact that I was alone, and that Phil was still dead. His continued absence baffled me in an inexplicable way. I could hardly look at the seat beside me.

365 more days brought resignation to sit beside me at the Thanksgiving table. Phil's absence was as much a part of my life as his presence once had been, and I found that oddly comforting. We all missed him, we all talked openly about his funny antics, and as a family we learned how to include the joys of the past into our Thanksgiving celebration. I became resigned to the realities of widowhood, but able to be grateful for the gifts surrounding me.

Year four I was taken off guard by the realization that I was okay by myself, not just pretending, or wearing a mask, or making the most of a difficult day...but really okay. I didn't feel less than, I felt whole. Missing Phil had become a part of my daily life without consuming me completely. I didn't know this until I heard myself laughing and turned to the seat next to me without flinching in pain.

Somehow Phil's empty seat has come to represent more than just my personal loss. That seat is now filled with the spirits of the many people who have been gifts to me during my life. Today I count the blessings of both the past and the present. Losing Phil opened my eyes to the many gifts that have come and gone from my life. The gifts I can no longer touch have become all the more precious. I count blessings in a new way, and my gratitude list has experienced some amazing growth as a result.

And year five? I have realized that there will always be an empty seat around our family table. There is no other person who can fill the space that Phil occupies in the hearts and minds of every single person who loves him, including me. Now I know that his seat doesn't need to be physically filled for his presence to be felt. I can see that he has been beside me all the time, but I was in too much pain to see him there. He was a very patient man, and I can imagine that he just continued to sit in his seat, rolling his eyes, waiting for me to notice him.

Now I can see you honey, thanks for waiting.

Giving Thanks ....

.... is not something easily done on this path of widowhood, is it?

I have plenty of reasons to not be thankful ... and we all know what the biggest one is, as I continue my march toward the second year of his death. This Season is difficult enough for each of us, but for those who's spouse died during this time of the year it can be excrutiating.

But, as I have said before, there are so very many negative and crippling things on this path, that it's nice to sometimes stop and notice what's good.

So today I will focus on what I am thankful for. It's a bit difficult because I am spending this holiday in the home where Jim grew up. I know that the memories and the grief will slam into me several times over the next few days.

But I will try to focus on what is good .... even though this week will be mostly "matter over mind".

I am thankful that I had Jim for as long as I did. Even if I were able to go back and live this life again, knowing how it would end, I'd choose it all over again. If he is the only love I will ever have in my life, his love will have been enough.

I'm thankful that I have 6 healthy and relatively happy children (how happy are teenage boys anyway?). I'm thankful for the father that they have and the example he set for them, especially for my sons.

I'm thankful for my family. I love each one of them, even though I don't always express it or call often enough .... and hope they know how very much they are loved.

I'm thankful for my friends. I would not be here today if it were not for the love, support and time that they've all given to me over the past 23 months. I love each one for the special things she or he did and/or said. Even the friends who are far away, and those who aren't in my life as much anymore. Each one has left a fingerprint on my heart.

I am thankful for the other men and women on this path. Each one I've met, whether in person or on line, as been such a source of support and strength and comfort to me. I know that I am not alone, nor am I crazy for feeling the way I feel. I know that I am understood .... sometimes without even having to speak.

And most importantly, I am thankful for my God. He was with me before I knew Jim and He's with me still .... even though I don't always feel Him. My head knowledge has been able to pull my heart along on this path some days (months).

I could go on and on .... which, now that I think of it .... is a very good thing.

Isn't it?

I will refrain from saying "Happy Thanksgiving" and will instead wish that your Thursday is as good as it possibly can be.

Serenity Now....

Remember the Seinfeld episode where George's dad keeps yelling: "Serenity Now"? He's supposed to be chanting it in a low melodic voice but instead yells it during times of stress.... I think I'm going to try it! ;)

The last month or so has been very stressful for me, and I've lost focus on the things that should matter to me right now. I've been running in circles trying to do it all, and in the course of it have managed to do all and nothing at the same time. Work has been intense, homework and school activities are constant, home responsibilities and chores, (lions and tiger and bears, oh my...). I've made some time (thanks to several of you who know who you are!) to do a few fun things, but I'm so worn out that I almost don't enjoy them. So far I haven't been too grumpy with Grayson, so that is a good thing. But, the challenge is finding the soft spot, something has got to give, and all of these demands seem like non-negotiable responsibilities owned by me alone.

The whole situation is making me less tolerant and grouchy. Case in point: I met a new neighbor this past week, a nice enough lady from across the street. I've been here three months and have never seen her. Her comment when we finally met was "I heard you work, so I guess that is why I haven't seen you....." She repeated this phrase: "you work..." three times throughout the course of our two minute conversation, and each time the judgement was implied: what kind of woman works instead of raising her children full-time? Who knew a working mother was such a novelty in the 21sth century...Good God I wanted to punch her. Of course I smiled, and said "yes, I do work" while inside I wanted to scream Frank Costanza style "Serenity NOWWWWW!" I guess I'm a little on edge. ;-)

I find myself trying to list the things that are going well and the balls that I'm not dropping in an effort to calm the screaming inner voice. I'm looking forward to the long holiday weekend and the time with my family for Thanksgiving. I need a bit of grounding, and hanging with my parents and brother will make me feel a bit more "home" than I have been feeling lately. It will be a great way to carve out some quiet time and give thanks for the many blessings I have in my life.

I'm looking forward to coffee at sunrise looking out over the Gulf of Mexico and concluding in my mind "serenity now".

Happy Thanksgiving ya'll - Michelle D.