Grief. Love. Magic. A new road. A new life~

Two Buckets~

What I knew instinctively as soon as Chuck died, and what I knew I had to immediately institute with myself and my body language, my behavior, my thinking.

Even though my brain was fogged with devastation.

Grief is isolating.

Do every damn thing you can so that you can’t, you don’t, isolate.  Whether you want to or not.  Don’t isolate.  Therein lies your own living death.

Make yourself visible.  You want to disappear.  Don’t allow it to happen.  Make yourself so visible that people will pay attention and, if you try to disappear, they’ll wonder where you are. This will be your saving grace.

Read more
Add your reaction Share

On the Road Life and Loneliness~

Do you get lonely out on the road?

That question has come my way numerous times in the 4 years and 3 months that I’ve traveled the country on my Odyssey of Love.

The simple and quick answer is yes.

It’s incredibly lonely.  It’s a loneliness that permeates down to my bones, head to toe.

Even sitting here, typing this blog, an immediate image comes to mind, of a long, long, 2 lane road stretching ahead of me for miles and miles.  I occasionally pass through small towns with maybe a single stop light.  I wonder, every time, how they continue to exist, in the middle of nowhere.

I can feel the hot wind on my arm, braced on the open window.  The sunroof is open.  Tunes play; songs that Chuck and I listened to, tunes that are new since his death…

Sitting here, I can feel the loneliness of the broad plains of Kansas and Missouri, the cornfields of Indiana and Illinois, see the foothills of the Rocky Mts in the far distance as I reach Colorado, or loop and dip as I chug up the hills of New Mexico…the beauty of this country demands a response.  It always engendered awe and thrills for me, as Chuck and I traveled.

Now?  Yeah, it’s lonely.

Read more
1 reaction Share

Just me, trying to figure this shit out, after the firestorm of my beloved husband's death~
Donate Volunteer Membership