So, I am writing to you today from Akron, Ohio. I am sitting across the table from my beautiful friend Sarah, who is also writing a piece in her journal at the exact same time that I attempt to write this piece on this blog. I am staying here for the weekend, with Sarah and Mike. (and Mike’s 9 year old daughter, Shelby, who is awesome) All three of us are writers here on Widow’s Voice. Sarah writes on Sundays, Mike on Tuesdays, and me on Fridays. Im staying in Mike’s home - the home that he shared with his wife Megan, who died two years ago - that he now shares with Sarah, who lost her fiance Drew, four years ago this past June.
Last night, I slept on a very comfy couch that belonged to Sarah’s fiance Drew years ago, and that Sarah has kept with her all this time. When Sarah left her home in Texas to come here to Ohio and begin this version of life with Mike, the couch stayed with her in the small apartment she was living in for the first year of being in Ohio. Then, when Sarah moved into this house that I am now writing from, Mike took Drew’s couch and moved it down into his basement so Sarah could have her own space, and then he lovingly repaired it, because it had been broken for years.
And now, tomorrow, all of us, including Mike’s 9 year old daughter, will get into a car and drive 2 hours away, to attend the wedding of another dear widowed friend, Beth, who has also found love again, and will be marrying her chapter two tomorrow. Her two kids are in the same age range as Mike’s daughter, and they have met before and get along beautifully. Are you still with me? Still following? Good. There’s more.
So, all of us met at this wacky place called Camp Widow, which is actually held at various beautiful Marriott hotels, and has nothing at all to do with camping. None of the people involved in the above scenario would know one another, if our person did not die. And because of that very real fact, it proves to me that the people we loved and will always love, are the ones who bring us together. They are a part of us, forever. And where there is life, that is where they live. They live through us, within us, and as part of us. Like one big, giant, weird, dysfunctional family. And I am so very grateful for my new family. Love grows from love, and out of our collective losses, we grew a family. Everything good comes from, and starts, with love.
I cant wait to celebrate and honor love tomorrow, in all the ways that matter.
Long live love.