Prayers go up....

It dawned on me today that I don't pray to God anymore.  I think I've thought about this before, but it didn't really hit home until today.

I was sitting in the pediatric cardiologist's office, G was hooked up to a bunch of wires, and we were waiting for the first round of tests.  A heart murmur accompanied by chest pains during a run could be a concern according to our pediatrician, and we were waiting for an expert to tell us what was up.  Two tests later, as I watched him taking slow deep breaths, and images of his heart were projected onto the small screen, I said a silent prayer.  God wasn't the recipient of this prayer - he's got a sketchy track record.  My prayers were directed straight to Daniel.  I know he wants the best for his son.  I trust he has G's best interests at heart.  I believe he will help me with my singular selfish wishes, when God is focussed on a much bigger picture.  I trust Daniel's agenda.   

I remember growing up praying, kneeling at night before I went to sleep.  My earliest prayer was the "now I lay me down to sleep" version, and as I grew older, my prayers became more personal, more meaningful.  As I watched Daniel deal with cancer and all the joy it entails, I lost faith.  I won't pretend I was a hardcore Christian up to that point, but I was spiritual and somewhat of a believer that if you were good, good things would come your way.  Upon realizing what God had in store for us - I decided that God wasn't with us, and that his "plan" as everyone called it, was pure bullshit. I tried to go to church after he died, but I was so angry that I would just cry in church and hate all of the happy families sitting around me.  I was bitter and resentful.  I didn't want to be there.  God had let me down. 

I'd like to tell you that I'm in a better place all of these years later - and in most ways I am. My life is pretty great, and if God had anything to do with it, I'm grateful.  G is a happy, well-adjusted kid, I have a wonderful husband and all things considered I feel blessed.  I don't give God much credit for it though, he's too busy.  Daniel, on the other hand, is watching out for us.  I'm hopeful that he's making sure that the worst G has to experience has already happened.  He's taking care of my baby boy and me too. My prayers go to him.  I trust that he is listening.

The good news is that G's heart is fine. His pain is from growing so fast.  Nothing to worry about at all and he's healthy as can be.  Thank Daniel!  I mean, thank God (whatever) :)

Community Matters

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All of us reading here at Widow's Voice understand that community matters. We're witness to the value of finding someone, anyone, to remind us that we are not alone. That's why most of us are here.

But this week, I've been struck by watching the rest of the world be reminded of how vital community is. Saturday morning, a friend of mine and one of the regular faces that became a part of my community after Jeremy died, got the terrible news that her husband tragically passed away. There are too many parallels to my own experience, and it's been a gut-wretching thing to watch. And now everyone who loved Amy's husband, Jim, is searching for answers. 

Searching for comfort. 

Searching for peace.

Searching for community. 

As much as I hate knowing that Amy and I now will share this tragic experience together forever, I'm thankful for the opportunity to be able to help in any way. Even if it's just by sitting with her, buying her groceries, making a 'funeral and viewings survival kit', or by telling her it's ok to grieve her own way. 

I am able to do a little bit more. Because Amy's life insurance policy was 4 months shy of the 2 years needed to cash it out, she will not be receiving the money she anticipated to pay for the costs that accrue after death (and we all know how expensive that can get!). I've decided to donate all the earnings from my blog revenue for the month of December to help ease the financial burden for her. (Read more about it HERE - you can help too, just by visiting the website as many times as you can this month).  I don't make much on my own, but it's amazing what happens when a community comes together.

I watched my Facebook feed blow up to share and donate to Amy. The response is outstanding and overwhelming. Good people are still out there, and when they hurt, we all hurt. It's a reminder that we're not supposed to walk through life alone, but in community. 

This widowed community was never something any of us wanted to be a part of. But I sure am thankful to have found it. Thank you for reminding me that community matters.

I'm Keeping a Decent Beat ......

                                                                    source

...... with the Death March.

In fact, I've been surprised at how upbeat my beat has been.
Finally.

No, the month is not over ...... and I've learned to never assume anything on this path ..... to never take anything for granted.

Which has turned out to be a very good lesson.
Nothing is guaranteed.
We all know that.

So I will enjoy this day.
And hope for more to enjoy tomorrow.
Even if the beat of the Death March drones on.
At the moment, it's the background noise in my head ..... not the first think I'm aware of each day.
And that's a first.

I'm sure it's helped that I went out of town with a bunch of girlfriends and we had a blast.
I think it also helped that I have decided to move somewhere exciting and new ...... for at least one half of the year.
When I was looking at apartments last week, I didn't wonder what Jim would think.  I didn't feel bad that Jim wasn't there.
Truth be told ...... I didn't think about Jim, and this move, all that much.
And I think that's a very good thing.

I need to go somewhere the 2 of us didn't live together.
I need to start somewhere new ....... someplace where no one knows Jim.
Someplace where I will only be known as me, Janine ...... and not as Jim's widow.
I can't wait.

None of this means that I'll forget him.
No freakin' way.
None of it means that I'm moving on without him.
But I am moving forward with my life ...... and he'll always be with me.

It doesn't make me miss him any less.
It just helps me to feel hopeful about the future ...... and all that I may find in front of me.
Hopeful.
And thankful.

And that's huge.

Hope Bubble

It is December again.
It should be time to sink into the December blues of Christmas and New Year alone again.

...and now with added unemployment due to Newman's job cuts.

But I seem to be floating on a tiny bubble of hope instead.

I saw a psychic a few weeks ago. 
(Whether you believe in spirituality or not, in the end, she was cheaper than a psychologist and I felt much better afterwards.)
Perhaps because she told me to give myself permission to let go of the things beyond my control. 
Like another contract for next year..... I have worked my hardest all year and have to trust that all I have done will be enough to land a job somewhere. 
She also gave me hope that I will meet another man who I wont want to run screaming from.
Whether its fake or not, it feels nice to have hope.

...and I am enjoying things more than I otherwise would.

• Miss K got an academic award at school today.  I was overjoyed for her.
• Mum and Dad are buying another puppy that the kids will be able to play with all holidays - this thought fills me with child-like joy as I keep looking at the pictures of the puppy they are collecting this weekend.
• H has been delighting me with his own brand of humour.
• Both kids have had a great year at school.
• I get to see my friends through the holidays.

 Maybe it all is a big bubble that will pop any second now, but until it does, I'm going to relax and enjoy the feeling of peace.

Independence

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Spending the last 15 years with a man who was as industrious as a person can be meant that I got away with doing very little. I always thought I was an independent person, especially after the childhood I had, but being with Dave allowed me to relax that "I can do it on my own" attitude. Little by little, I let him take over so much because he loved to make life easier for me.

Of course, I worked full time, too and I'd help out around the house a lot. There were many chores I took care of that he never did (mopping, dusting, vacuuming, cleaning the bathrooms...man, we were conventional!), but mainly, that dude loved to be busy and productive and I wasn't about to take away what made him happy and fulfilled! It was nice to split up the tasks and not have to do some of the things I detested doing.

So, he repaired, maintained and replaced everything, changed the litterbox, mowed, fertilized and weeded the lawn, kept up on all our vehicle's oil changes, repairs and tune ups, dealt with ALL things financial, assembled things, cleaned our gutters, made practically all the calls, researched all our big purchases, drove us everywhere, and just generally spoiled me ROTTEN. And he wouldn't have had it any other way.

He took great pride in this. It's not as though he slaved miserably over me and I sat around watching him toil while eating chocolates. What gave him purpose and made him proud and happy was to do these things that made my life (and our life together) run smoothly.

I truly didn't realize the extent of my dependence on him until he was gone. I'm STILL realizing it now!

In the past 18 months, I've taken on all of the jobs he used to take care of for me and some. I don't mind hard work and I like the feeling of being independent and capable. I like knowing I can handle it all myself.

However, it's been a huge learning curve. I just installed blinds myself and one of them kept falling on my head every time I'd go to lower them until I figured out how I'd installed them incorrectly. There was a constant stream of cursing and a little bruising before I had that situation handled.

I've had a refrigerator stop working on me, an AC unit leak all over the place and ruin a wall and soak the carpet in the hallway. I've taken apart and reassembled an Ikea bed (with no leftover parts, thank god). I've had a few extra bank fees because of financial mishaps - did you know that Dish Network can charge you for cable when you're not even using their cable? For 10 months? And that it's possible to not NOTICE that fact? For 10 months? Well, it is. I've moved furniture around that was way too big and cumbersome, absolutely HATING the idea of needing someone stronger than me around to help. I've done it all on my own. I think a stubborn form of anger fueled me to move some of that stuff around. I turned all Hulk on it.

I don't regret allowing him to spoil me the way he did. He loved it. He wanted everyone to know (most endearingly his impressionable pre-teen students) that a real man takes good care of his life partner. His former students still tell me stories about how he'd lecture them about this between math and science lessons. My favorite story was that he told all his girl students to accept nothing less than a platinum ring from their future spouses-to-be.

I don't wish I'd done more. It was the way our marriage worked and it worked well for us. It's just that I'm learning all of this now and it's coming at me regardless of my need to heal and the fact that I'm still grieving. So on top of nursing a shattered heart, I'm also learning to do everything all at once. All the tasks we shared are now mine alone. Not gradually, over several years, so I could take my time learning them, but all at once.

It's no wonder I'm still exhausted. It's not just grieving we're doing here. It's relearning and sometimes learning for the first time, how to be alone. It makes me feel both weak and exhausted and endlessly powerful. It's a contradiction like so many other aspects of this experience.

There were some things I did along the way that eased the process though, and they might be suggestions that could help someone else who is new to this.
1. I simplified. Not everyone might be able to sell everything and move to a more convenient location or take time off work like I did, but there are a million little ways to simplify. Eliminate all that doesn't need to be done RIGHT NOW. Give up tasks you don't have to do that cause you stress. You'll need time and energy to learn all of this stuff, and most of all, to heal.

2. Get help. I was able to "hire" a team of people to help me. I was lucky enough to have amazing friends who swooped in and helped me in the very beginning. They took care of figuring out my financial situation and what bills needed to be paid so I could take over once I was able. They took care of shopping and cleaning for a while until I could begin to do it on my own. If you get offers of help, TAKE THEM. Now isn't the time to be a hero and try to do it all at once yourself. It's simply too much. It's your turn to be helped. You'd do it for them if this had happened to the ones you love. I even found a team of professionals. I have a life coach (or 2!) and a great therapist. My life coach has been incredibly helpful. She's taught me ways to be more financially organized and how to re-imagine my life and career situation. When I moved I had movers do it. When I furnished the new place I had someone help me in the planning and shopping. Even if you can't afford to pay professionals to help you, take advantage of people in your life who want to help you and let them. Eventually you'll be able to take on more yourself.

3. Utilize the internet for help. You can find a YouTube video on just about anything. Don't know how to fix that appliance or install those blinds? Someone out there made a how-to video and you can benefit from their skills. I've used the Internet to help me figure out what was wrong with my broken fridge and AC unit and how to get a generator working. There are also websites dedicated to all sorts of things, of course. I found several helpful websites when I was trying to learn to deal with all my financial and career issues.

4. Read up on everything. Knowledge is power. Feeling power means you'll feel in control of something, and even a teeny bit of control can feel good. We've had this rug pulled out from under us and the helplessness can be powerful. Combat it with a little bit of knowledge-is-power. It was maybe two days after Dave died that my book buying began. I've read books on grieving, finances, self-esteem, dating, traveling solo, meditation, and most recently cookbooks because I'm beginning to enjoy cooking again after not doing it for nearly a year.

5. Connect with the widowed community (like you're doing by coming here!).  This one move has saved me more than any other. It is from my fellow widows I find inspiration, advice (when I'm ready for it), love and acceptance.

Of course all of this is what's helped me. That doesn't necessarily mean it will help you or that it will be feasible for you in your situation. We are all so different and our situations warrant very different strategies, so take what helps and lose the rest. Do what helps you, whatever that may be. Your survival depends on it!

I would trade in all my new knowledge and independence to have my baby back.
Since that can't happen, though, I'm pretty damn proud of myself and know he'd be too.

What have you done to combat the extremely steep learning curve?

The "Out-Laws"

At camp widow, I was sitting at the suicide round table, and the topic of in-laws came up.

An amazing widow, referred to her in-laws as the “out-laws”.

My adventure with the out-laws started about a year into Seth’s illness.

It was Christmas night. Seth had been battling his illness for a year, and I was desperate. I was grasping at anything I could to help my husband.

I sat his family down, and told them that one of these times, Seth was going to be successful on his suicide attempts, and I needed help. He needed help.

After that, his family pretty much disappeared from his life. His dad stepped up to the plate, and was amazing. He would call Seth daily, take him to do things (sometimes dragging him out of the house, literally)  and was just present in Seth's life.

His mom, step dad and siblings on the other hand, were gone.

The day before Seth took his life, he told me “ I've been trying to call my mom for a week, and she won’t call me back. Why won't my mom call me back??”

I could see the pain in his eyes. He was truly distraught over it. Which I don’t blame him. If my mom stopped returning my calls, I would be beside myself.

He was gone the next day.

My real adventure with the out-laws started as I stood next to my husband’s coffin.

As I stood next to my dead husband, his family blamed me for his suicide.

After 3 suicide attempts, and me begging them for help, they were standing there, blaming me.

I was astonished, to say the least.

I did everything in my power to keep Seth alive. Yet for them, it wasn't enough and I was to blame for his suicide. Which was fine, they could blame me. 

They weren't there every day, literally carrying him to his next breath. I knew, without a doubt, there was nothing else I could have done.

After the funeral was done and over with, I cut ties from his family. I didn't need the harassment and blame. I had a life to rebuild and get on with, I didn’t have the time or energy to try to make them see the bigger picture. The bigger picture was that Seth was gone before he actually died.

At the end of the day, it came down to Seth’s decision to live or die. If blaming me for his suicide helped them feel better, then so be it.

In March, I had my next run in with the out-laws.

Seth’s mom filed for Executor of Seth’s estate.

Due to the fact that if you murder someone, you cannot be the executor of your victim’s estate.

Yes, she blamed me for homicide.

In court filings.

I of coursed filed to be executor of Seth’s “estate”.

I was granted executor of his estate hours later.

The thing is, Seth didn't have an “estate”.

Everything he had, we acquired together.

It was the most outrageous thing I have ever been through.

The sad thing is, I was already investigated for homicide the day the police found Seth’s body. It was  ruled suicide within a couple of hours. The location Seth was found at is very hard to get to (I couldn't drag a 230lbs man against his will there). The police found only his foot prints, which is how they came up with no one else was involved.

His mom has never asked me for the police reports, autopsy or toxicology.

She thinks her son died on July 26^th.

He died on July 27th.

She doesn't even know what date her own son died on.

She doesn't even know what the autopsy says.

I find it sad that his mom is so busy placing blame, that she doesn't even know the details surrounding her sons death.

The reason for posting my story?

Have a will. So there is never any question as to who owns what.

You might think your family would never do this to your spouse.

You might think your in-laws are your family.

But boy, does death bring out the worst in people.

I never would have thought Seth’s family would put me through everything they have.

I would have never thought they would become “the out-laws”.

And if you find yourself blaming someone for a loved one’s suicide (Including blaming yourself), stop it.

Seriously, stop it.

By placing blame on someone else, you are robbing yourself of the grieving you need to do to move forward.

If you are so focused on placing blame, you can’t focus on anything else including grieving.

If you find yourself in a battle with the “out-laws”, take a good look at your own health and well-being.

There is no law that states you have to include your in-laws in your widow journey.

In fact, your spouse wouldn't want you to put up with being treated poorly.

I know without a doubt, if Seth was alive, he would have disowned his family for how they have treated me.

The sad part about it all, is Seth's family doesn't realize they lost the last piece of Seth they had.

The last piece of Seth they had left was me.

Vengeance is a lazy form of grief. ~ Silvia Broome

Change

“I don’t know that love changes. People change. Circumstances change.”- Nicholas Sparks

December is always one of the toughest months of the year for me.

Wedding Anniversary, Christmas, my birthday...all within 4 days of each other.

And as I've mentioned before, I define Michael's life by his love, not the day he died, so I find our anniversary tougher than the day he left this earth.

But this year I know will be better.

Not because I love him any less. Not because his absence is any less prominent. Not because the pain has fully dissapeared.

Because I have changed.

I see that I have the control. Not to change the circumstances of what has happened. But because I have changed in the sense that I am finally able to see that I change the circumstances of how I will react and evolve from these days.

I will undoubtedly be tired and have my mood swings, more than usual, but I have a feeling that December 2012 will be the best one since December 2007.

The love hasn't changed...but grown...and finally I am allowing myself to grow with it.