Being a widow is a lot of things. Scary. Sad. Lonely. Guilt-ridden. But an unexpected side effect of the loss of my spouse is the humor and hilarity.
Maybe I was funny person before. Maybe it has been in me all along. But after spending time again this year at Camp Widow, my cheeks hurt from laughing....and I didn't spend the time giggling at myself.
... is different.
Very, very different.
I wish I had known that.
I wish I had known a widow who could have told me that.
Someone who could have warned me.
Lately I have been asked by more than one person when I think I might be done with this whole, "widow thing." Hmmm...done. Well I guess that depends on the definition of done.
See the thing is, I will always be widowed. Remarriage doesn't erase my widowhood. Being happy doesn't erase the memories I have of lying in bed dry heaving as I screamed in agony over the news that the man I loved was dead. Loving a different man doesn't make me stop loving Phil. There is no such thing in my mind as replacement, and I can't figure out what done would look like.
I’ve written ELEVEN Thank you notes this week.
Eleven hand written notes filled with gratitude and gratefulness for the things people in my life did for me.Read more
I'm not dating. I have gone on a few....dates. But it never felt right. But neither does this loneliness.
I don't want to go through the hassle of meeting, dating, getting to know the other person's "issues", introducing this person to family and friends, getting giddy when they come around, having our first argument, finding out that they have an oddly close relationship with their mother...who hates me, and having to dump their mama's boy ass after going through all that.Read more
... is not what happens the day your soul mate dies.
There's nothing slow about the slamming shut of the door of your life.
Your life as you knew it.
Your "before" life.
Your future as you dreamed it.
The door slams shut.
All light is snuffed out.
You are thrust into a very, very dark, very cold place.Read more
Some things remain unchanged for centuries, such as Stonehenge (my photo, two summers ago). Others change much more rapidly, such as myself (no photo, you've seen me before ;).
I guess 4 and a half years isn't a tiny bit of time, but in the framework of a lifetime, 4 years is pretty quick. I find it hard to believe how far I've come since November 2005. At the time, I thought my life was over; I was preparing myself to just suffer through the rest of it.
Happiness has pervaded
before, during and after
my time with
and since she died,
it’s been my friends
and family and stranger friends
and music and books and
travel and writing and
memories and photography
and baseball and cheeseburgers
and beer and this blog
and countless other things
that have all been
of happiness for me.
and then there’s madeline.
Tonight I toasted my youngest son's confirmation with me, myself, and I. The ceremony was really beautiful, we enjoyed a lively lunch with our family to celebrate, and at the end of the day I felt peaceful and content. So, I popped the cork on a bottle of champagne, and toasted to a joy filled day.
As I poured my solo glass of bubbly, I laughed at myself for opening the bottle just for me. I also struggled with a slight sense of melancholy since I was once again reviewing the highlights of the day alone.