It’s been a weird week.
It seldom happens to me, not because I think I’m invulnerable to feeling weird or down, but mostly because my mind is too consumed in what I’m doing to pay those emotions any attention.
My mind is a strong one. That’s not me bragging. It’s just true.
But even strong minds have their limits.
This week tested me I suppose. I spent the week observing people, myself included, for the most part.
People are weird. Even other people grieving.
I don’t think that that’s a bad thing, but I think sometimes we forget that at the end of the day, we’re people all the same, with the same character flaws and quirks that we had before we were widowed. Now, we just have an added level of trauma and crazy.
We still take advantage of each other. Use each other for our own personal gain. We lie to each other. We’re capable of disrespect and indifference. We're annoyed by people, even if they’re suffering the same plight we are. We still let each other down.
This past weekend was Camp Widow Toronto.
I went there on a 9 hour car ride from Massachusetts, with me and 3 other people.
We had an unforgettable experience.
We met new friends, and reunited with old ones.
We had moments of healing, and moments of helping heal others.
We ate yummy food.
We laughed without apology.
And cried without shame.
We danced together on the dance floor.
We said the phrase that you hear more than any other at camp:
"Yeah. Me too."
The big news is, we found a place to rent here in Kona that has agreed to the dogs. It’s only up the block, so moving should be relatively easy. It’s expensive…but thankfully my boyfriend is with us for all the support both emotional and financial that it will entail.
It has not come easy. It took weeks for the owner to come around to us (apparently, two dogs are better than a group of young single people or a family of 10). We had to endure a long, detailed financial application and background check. And the hardest, for me, has been the emotion of it all.
My stay at the house my beautiful late husband and I shared is coming to an end.
I will leave part of me behind here. My heart, or most of it, it feels like.