Thank you

source

Today, I just wanted to say thanks.

Last week, I was hesitant to share my fears and also my joys of being pregnant and all that comes along with that when it's attached to grief. But I don't know why I was so reluctant, because I was overwhelmed with the support of so many.

So I needed to take the time and share my appreciation for this community on Widow's Voice. I'm so thankful that I have a space filled with people from all different stops on their grief journey, but who all come together to support, encourage, and bring hope to one another. Whether I'm struggling through my grief, or sharing the often guilty joys that come in the aftermath of loss, I know there is someone out there connecting. Someone who needs to hear what I have to say, or someone who brings me hope. That's the magic of this place.

Thank you for allowing me to continue to share my journey with you all. Good & bad, I have a place here. That really means something.

You guys rock.

There's a Fine Line ......

...... between good memories and pain.

In the beginning of my grief, there was no line.  I couldn't even think about good memories.  I couldn't think about good.  Period.

But now I can dwell on my good memories ...... and not feel any pain.
Most of the time.

Thanksgiving was not one of those times.

The above picture is from my father-in-law's farm, where we spent Thanksgiving with the rest of Jim's family.
While I love visiting there, it also brings me a lot of pain.
It's difficult to be there without him.
It feels ...... unnatural.

Jim's mother died 5 months after he did.  Also too soon.
Also not expected.
It was very hard to be there without her, too.
It was painful.

I cried more tears last week than I've cried in quite a while.
And I hid while I shed them.
I'm not sure why ...... except that after 5 years I think other people don't want to see tears.
And I didn't want to depress anyone else.

I also found it hard to say goodbye.
But then ...... that's been hard for me for the past 5 years.
Goodbyes are painful, at least for me.
Because you never know when goodbye ...... really is "goodbye".

But I don't have to tell you that, do I?

It was good to be among Jim's family ...... my family.
It was good to be back on the farm.
It was good to have so many things for which to be thankful.

But sometimes there's a very fine line between what's good ...... and what's painful.

Be thankful. Or don't. It's OK.

source

I remember Thanksgiving two years ago, just a couple weeks after Jeremy's death. Well, when I say I remember it, I actually don't remember much about it other than I was deep in the pits of despair and grief. But what I surprisingly remember was the the sense of responsibility I felt to voice being thankful in some way. I remember putting up a status on Facebook about trying not to dwell on what I lost and trying to focus on what I could be thankful for.

But the truth was, I was not thankful for anything.

I'm not so blinded as to not understand that I had things to be thankful for. But I didn't feel thankful. I couldn't image my life being any worse. I was even pissed that I was still around to suffer through the days without the love of my life. Why did I have to express thankfulness?

Because that's what we're supposed to do...

This holiday tends to start a chain reaction of responsibility and expectations for grievers through the end of the year. It sucks. Sometimes empty. It's hard to feel thankful when the person you were most thankful for is no longer there.

Knowing things could be worse doesn't take away the pain of losing someone. Knowing we have much to be thankful for doesn't lessen the injustice of what we've been through. Sometimes the insinuation is enough to make things worse.

Here's what I know: don't worry about the expectations of others or even the expectations we tend to put on ourselves. It's OK to not get into the hype and hoopla of the holidays. Don't feel pressured to please others or keep up with traditions alone if it hurts too much. It's OK to take a break for awhile and keep things simple. It's OK to feel angry, sad, or irritated with others for getting to celebrate what you have now lost. It's OK to do things YOUR way.

Here's what else I know: If you do feel thankful, that's OK. If you feel blessed that you've got a second chance at life even in the midst of losing something so special, that's OK. If you're in a place where you can look at your blessings and appreciate them in a way that only grief will let you, that's OK.

Don't let others dictate where your heart is at. This holiday season, be true to you.

endings and beginnings

Photo from here....

This post marks my last post as a regular writer for Widow's Voice. It is a truly bittersweet moment for me.
Mostly, the feeling that is most prevalent is gratitude. I am so thankful for the opportunities that writing for this amazing this organization has provided me.
My life has been enriched by the community of widows and widowers who know and understand every trial and victory associated with losing your spouse. I am forever in wonder of the kindness and empathy that we share for each other and for the comfort and support given to me and others like me.
Writing has allowed me to truly examine this journey that started on March 25th, 2008. I believe it has allowed me to step back from the the loss itself and analyze each feeling, thought, and death-laced interaction. I have grown and learned more about myself and this journey than I ever thought possible.
I have found now that often when I sit down to write, I am often find myself mulling over thoughts that I have had....numerous times in the last few years. They have become part of me. Part of the fabric that is woven into my being. I don't think it's right for me to keep hammering them into a forum that needs new and fresh thoughts. New voices and new journeys.
I want to thank each of you who have read, commented on or supported my musings here. You have been a lifesaver to me and I hope the newest Widow's Voice writer, Veronica King, finds it as soothing and cathartic as I have. I know you'll love her and her writing!

XOXOX

Hopeful New Year

No tears tonight. (It's New Year's Eve as I write.)

Tonight I celebrate what lies ahead of me. Tonight I take notice of what prior New Year's brought my way. I know that tonight a friend is celebrating a wedding anniversary without her husband. I know that tonight another friend is remembering this as the day she met the husband who is also no longer beside her. Yet knowing each of these women, I'm sure that even if tears are falling, there are beautiful smiles on their faces.

Looking ahead to the new year is our way of projecting hope into our future. For those of us who are widowed hope is not something we can always easily access. Yet for me, at this point in my life, I do have hope, and more of it than expected.

I know that years ago after learning that my husband was terminally ill, I thought I lost hope. Yet, in the days that followed his emergency surgery I found myself accessing hope that I couldn't recognize at first. It was that hope that spurred me on to seek out the right path for us as a couple, and it was that hope that allowed me to not get stuck so deep in my unexpected sorrow. It was also that hope that provided me with two more loving years with the man I gave my heart to.

After losing Michael I felt that once again I had lost all ties to hope. I was not able to see beyond the pain and sorrow, even as the days and months went by. I began to question if my future carried any real meaning. After surviving on scary night I decided to trust that hope was there, even if I didn't recognize it. I made a decision to set off in a new direction, and I trusted that there was something, not necessarily someone, out there for me.

Tonight I sit here in my home, with all the chaos that is included with a house full of kids and pets. I had hoped for a very quiet peaceful night, one like last year, yet it is clearly not what I am to have. The television is blaring, the dogs are running around, I have struggling with a miserable cold, and my new love is at work rather than sitting beside me.

Inside my head I keep hearing Mick Jagger singing these lyrics..."YOU CAN'T ALWAYS GET WHAT YOU WANT." For those of us who find ourselves seeking out this blog, this is a bit of an understatement.

My point is this, no, I don't believe I got what I wanted. I got more. I got a lifetime of Michael's love. It wasn't my lifetime of love, but it was his. I know that he never stopped loving me, nor I him. I know that loving him gave me so much hope in my future. I know that loving him taught me that sometimes hope takes a different turn. Before meeting Michael I thought love had passed me by. I had somewhat lost hope. He renewed it. In learning that I was soon to lose Michael I thought I had lost hope. Once again, it was renewed. In losing Michael I was sure that I had lost hope. Yet, here I sit, being hopeful once again.

Let's all look forward to a hopeful year. Let's say our thanks for what we had, and let's be open to what the future holds.

Happy New Year.



You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes, well you might find
You get what you need

a blessing for all things

Photo from here.....

The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but the thankful heart will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings.

-- Henry Ward Beecher

I have found that at times, I am a whiny, ungrateful little sap. I moan at life's injustice and cry out at the lot I have been given. I beat my fists against fate and want to scream when I hear "It happened for a reason". What the hell reason could it be that I had to lose my love so early? What reason is there that my children have to go to bed without their daddy's furry kiss?

But this quote and a few others like it help me to remember that perhaps there isn't a "reason" but a blessing for all things.

I am not blessed that Jeff is gone. But I am stronger, more empathetic and kinder since losing such a huge piece of my heart and life. And I am thankful for this....

I am thankful for my community and friends who support me with their love and generosity, reminding me that I am not alone.

I am thankful for the other widows I know and continue to meet for although we are all broken, we all seem to share a wicked sense of humour and an understanding of the truly important things in life.

I am thankful for every day that I am able to spend holding our small children's hands for I could have been the one who died.

I am thankful for the love he gave me and memories I have stored in my heart available when I need him close. It is NOT the same as having him here, but I am thankful that I did for a time.

And I am thankful for the opportunity to learn, grow and become who I am.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!!

Thankful

Two Thanksgiving celebrations down, and one to go.

It's been an interesting couple of days. Friday night I hosted an office Thanksgiving potluck at my home. Almost every person from the office came, along with their families. There was so much food, wine and desert, and everyone was in a very good mood. Most had hoped to meet Abel, and since he had to work, I was explaining all night as to why he wasn't present.

Since most of the folks I work with have never been to my home I took the time to give each of them the official tour. What I realized is that this crowd of people never knew Michael, or of my life with him. Of course many have likely heard that I am widowed, but it is something that is more historical information to them. As each entered my bedroom they were greeted by the large wedding photo of Michael and I, which is balanced across the room with his urn. To create a festive mood throughout the house I had votive candles everywhere. Two specific candles are often burning on each side of the urn. I think these images were a bit jarring for each guest, as it put some reality into what I have experienced over the years.

On Saturday I had another early Thanksgiving celebration, this time at my parents' home. All of my brothers and their families were present, and with each person that greeted me there was the same question, "where is Abel?" That part was very similar to the questions and responses on Friday night, only this crowd had a very personal perspective of not only my loss, but of theirs.

I was enjoying a glass of wine with my sister-in-law, and having a real heart to heart when she commented about how quickly life can change. She was remembering her weekend visit to my home at the end of the summer, and how I was expressing that I was now ready to begin dating. She pointed out that the expression on my face now is very different than times in the recent past. She said that I look happy for a change. As we spoke more about Abel she shared with me that even though she is happy for me, and Abel seems like a nice guy, it is very difficult to see me with somebody new. She told me that even though it's been two years, she still thinks about how much she and everyone loved Michael, and how she misses him. My sister-in-law said that Michael was such a special person, the type that doesn't come along very often.

I appreciated what my sister-in-law shared with me. It was a good reminder that others around me continue to be affected by Michael being taken so soon. I know that my family is pleased that I have found happiness with someone new, but they will need time to adjust, as they don't see me, or us, often.

Before we began to eat our Thanksgiving meal all of us formed a circle in the room. We joined hands for the Thanksgiving prayer. My father voiced a collective thanksgiving for all that we have, and for what God will continue to provide us. These words sort of took me to another place. Yes, I am thankful, yet part of me is still feeling the sting of personalizing that God took Michael from me. I know that this internal debate, did he take him, or was it just his time, is not something worth wrestling with. I know that if God did take him, it is not for me to know why. So for now I will focus on being thankful for what I have.

I am thankful for my children, and the love we share between us. I am thankful for all of my extended family, and for the many years my parents, and each of my brothers, have been given in their marriages. I am thankful for all of my widowed friends, and all those that come here to read, connect, and heal. And yes, I am thankful that for now, and for how ever long I am blessed with this new person in my life, I have companionship.

One more Thanksgiving to go, which will be just my kids, Abel and me. No explanations needed.

kinship

Photo from here....

Nine months after Jeff died, my beloved grandfather joined him in the great fishing grounds in the sky. My grandmother was, understandably bereft. She asked me, "Does it ever begin to feel any better?" In that moment, I was struck by one thing. We were now not only linked by blood and family, but by the kinship of grieving our spouse.

Marriage always ends. Either by divorce or death. I am unaware of a "sister/brotherhood of divorcees" as, fortunately, I have not had to endure this. But I have definitely become part of the fraternity know as "widowed".

I am so very often struck by the kinship and kindness that runs through this group. The nods of understanding and the gentle acknowledgement of each other's pain. Whether 20 or 80, we understand. The details are always different, but the pain of loss is always the same.

Us widows? We have each other's backs. We stand up for each other. We support each other. And we assist each other.

If I have to be part of either group, although I hate what has brought me here, I am glad to share it all of you. Thank you for holding my hand, laughing with me through hysterics, helping me to jump my hurdles and lending an ear.

Let's all remember to be empathetic and sensitive to each other. Because at times, we are the only ones who understand. And I want each and everyone of you to know how much you are appreciated.

give me one reason

In any tragedy, early loss or hard lesson, we look for a reason behind it. The "why". Over the last three years I have searched for the explanation, or rationale, for Jeff's death and all the aftermath of his loss. Not the reason written on his autopsy certificate or the coroner's report. Something deeper. Something less concrete but still as real...and "good". I have searched for a sort of justification for his loss. Some signal that the repercussions for his death were not all negative and in vain. I have felt the flicker of atonement when an acquaintance had heard that Jeff's reluctance to go to the doctor resulted in his death and insisted her husband go to the doctor for a persistently bothersome throat...only to find out that he had cancer and possibly had a chance to catch it in time. I felt some sort of rationale - maybe Jeff saved someone else's daddy in a round about way. While signing a co-worker's life insurance papers as a witness after telling them of our life insurance debacle and how life would be so different for the kids and me if I didn't have to worry about money, I felt an acknowledgement for our loss. Someone wouldn't have to face widowhood with children and not know how they would provide for them financially. After singlehandedly installing six fence posts correctly in our backyard with only the help of a postpounder, a level and a ladder (plus an extremely zealous four-year old boy), I wondered over whether I would have not only been able to do this before Jeff's death and if I would have had the confidence to unquestioningly tackle the project alone. I certainly feel that will never be a good enough reason for losing my beloved...But there may be some other purpose behind his loss. A string of positive happens that would not have happened if I were able to hold him just a little longer. Hopefully, each loss of each of our spouses has caused some amount of positive to ripple through humanity. Because I need some amount of rationale. Some amount of explanation. Some amount of knowledge that my love's life did not go unnoticed.

This Time ....

.... I chose it.
Yep, this time I chose grief.
Although, in my defense ..... I really didn't know I'd be experiencing grief.
I thought it might be more cut and dried ..... but considering the amount of tears I've shed since Friday, it's anything but dried.

I ended our relationship.
We ended our relationship.
I instigated the "talk", but it was mutual.

I love him.
In fact, I now realize that I love him more than I thought I did.
He loves me.
I don't know what he's realized.
I only know that it's over.
It didn't work.
We just weren't right for each other.

I found out that I can love someone, but not be meant for him.
Or he for me.

I am sad.
I am beyond sad, though I've done much better these past two days.
And yes, I chose this.

Who knew?
Definitely not me.
Well, I didn't really, REALLY know that it would end, but if I'm honest (and you guys know that I always try to be truly honest with you) I'd have to say that I've been .... "questioning" the relationship for several months now.
I've innately known that something wasn't quite right.
But .... and here's the problem ..... I have only loved one other man.  In my whole life. Really.
Three guesses as to who that man was .... and the first two guesses don't count.

So I've considered myself "inexperienced".  And thus, I questioned my feelings.  And my thoughts.  And my intuition.
I questioned my innateness.

I thought that maybe, at this age and stage of life, I had to settle for companionship and not expect to feel crazy in love with someone.
Or expect someone to be crazy in love with me.
Thankfully, I now know that there's no way in hell I'm going to settle.
I'd rather be single for the rest of my life, than to wish that someone loved me the way I want to be loved.
I've had that love.
And I'm good with how much that love filled me.

So yay for me.
And yay for the experience of this relationship.
We both learned something.
We learned that we can love again.
And that we can be loved again.
And that, my friends, is a true gift that I feel God blessed us with.

I'm thankful for him and for the gifts he gave me.
I'm thankful for the love he gave me.
And the knowledge that I'm capable of love.
And the knowledge that it's OK for me to want to be loved the way I need to be loved.

I'm most thankful for his friendship.
We are still friends.
I hope that we will always be very good friends.
I want the best for him.
Whoever she is.

So ..... I chose this.
I chose grief.
I chose to not settle.
I chose crazy love .... or no love.

I chose to believe everything that Jim, and God, taught me.
I am special.
I am worthwhile.
I am deserving of love.  Lots and lots of love.
I am a woman who can love deeply, strongly and crazily.
I am blessed with an amazing group of family and friends who love me.
Very much.

Yes .... this time .... I chose.

I chose me.