(Note) *Place-anchored grief is when grief is tied to a place. Deferred grief is exactly what it sounds like. I wanted to give these contexts before continuing.
A Healing Holiday
The holidays have come and gone. I just arrived back at the apartment after two and a half weeks away. Two of those weeks were spent in Florida. It wasn’t the trip I expected, but it was healing in its own way. What I didn’t expect was how I felt while I was gone versus how I feel now that I’m back. I expected to move through the trauma and grief feelings of the past few months, and I thought I had.
What’s strange is that while I was gone, I barely cried over Greg or Eric. Once, maybe — when I was really drunk and alone, and the weight hit too hard. But otherwise, the grief stayed quiet. The trauma had minimal impact. I could talk to strangers about both of them and feel it without drowning in it. I didn’t expect that.
A New Kind of Grief: Place-Anchored
Now that I’m back, it feels like I’ve been dropped straight back into October when the trauma first happened. I’m learning this is called Place-Anchored and Defered Grief, and it’s hitting me different.
It’s the new year, almost the middle of January. Suddenly, I’m immersed in memories of Greg, our time together, and losing him in such a tragic way. Not in a reflective way. In a physical way. Like my body remembers before my mind can catch up. It feels like hitting a wall I didn’t know was still standing. A weight I don’t know how to lift.
I think the grief waited here.
While I was away, the grief and memories of all my loss and trauma softened. Not because it was gone, but because I was gone. Distance gave me space to breathe. My nervous system finally exhaled. But this apartment holds everything from my past three-plus-year relationship. Every piece of furniture. Every object. Where we placed things. How we used them. Nothing here is neutral.
Everything was a mutual decision.
That realization hit me today. Greg will always be here because we built this space together. I will always feel his presence as long as I’m here. Right now, I don’t know if that’s a comfort or a burden. Maybe it’s both.
The Unexpected Comfort
There’s something strange about being thrown back into a grief you thought you had moved through. It doesn’t feel like I am going backward. It feels like there is unfinished business. Like the grief was deferred, waiting for the place where it was born to pick up where I left off.
I just want to sit with it.
There is comfort in this ache, even as it hurts. This space knows everything. It knows the life we were building. It remembers even when I can’t hold it all at once. And maybe that’s why it feels so heavy — because it’s holding too much for me, too much of me.
I don’t know yet what comes next. I don’t know if staying here will help me heal or keep me tethered. I’m not ready to decide that.
For now, I’m allowing the grief to exist where it belongs. I’m letting this place speak. I’m letting myself feel what waited for me to return.
Hi there, it’s me. Wow, where did the year go? I keep asking myself that question frequently these past few weeks. So much has happened in the past few months alone, and knowing where to begin is tough. This is an update and this is my story of finding home again this past year. First off, my writing has taken a back seat to real life for the moment. I’m still working on my companion workbook. I transferred in my job, moved again, back to Chicago, and finally found an apartment I adore. I downsized my life considerably over the summer in prep for this move. All while working on a relationship and trying desperately to shed the remainder of my former life to give this one a fighting chance. Let me explain.
Returning to Kentucky a year ago took a lot of soul-searching but not much planning. I didn’t know for how long or when I would ever leave Kentucky again, so I’ve been in limbo. In the meantime, I wrote and launched my book and started on the companion workbook. It’s essentially written but has been stuck in the final stages for over three months now due to my inability to just sit down and devote some time to it. Apologies to you and myself for that.
Returning to Chicago
Next, the most important event was that I transferred to Macy’s Oakbrook Center, back to Chicagoland for my job. I officially started last month. For housing, I initially booked an extended stay at a hotel, which wasn’t terrible, but I didn’t realize exactly how far away from the city that it was. It’s been challenging. Not only getting to work but finding an apartment. I opted to rent versus buy for a year to get comfortable with being back and not be pressured into buying something I don’t love in a neighborhood I’m not thrilled with.
So, with that, finding home again meant a perfect two-bedroom apartment on the first floor in a lovely neighborhood called Oak Park. The building is old, the updates are sufficient, it’s small, and although it doesn’t quite feel like home yet, it will. (This is not my apartment, just a cool photo in the Macy’s where I work!)
Balancing Life and Writing
I’ve written several articles that have just been sitting and waiting for revision and publication all the while since I knew I was coming back. Another procrastination I apologize for. The most recent, which I’ll probably get out soon, is about emerging from the widow’s fog. I’ve done that this year, and it’s been an experience I barely found words to describe. I can only liken it to waking up from a dream in which I had little control over what was happening around me, only to realize most of it was real. It’s truly a surreal experience.
During this “awakening,” I realized I needed to downsize my life again to prepare for this two-state move again. The honest truth was, when I looked around, not much from my former life meant anything to me.
Lots of stuff from my past and present life was donated, lots thrown away, given away, and some was just stored. I’m still working through it, but it still amazes me the drive I’ve had to just start a new life with new things and new places and only have around me the small things that bring me joy. It’s been a freeing experience. I highly recommend it.
Love and Fear
Now, we come to the much-guarded relationship status. I’ve met someone, or should I say re-met someone. We’ve known each other for years, even decades. When we started exploring this relationship, it was a questionable situation for both of us; however, we decided to give it a shot and see where things went. It’s been anything but easy, though we’ve persevered, and here we are, in Chicago, together, for a second time.
No one knows what the future holds for either of us, and the thought of losing someone that close to me frightens me to my very core. The fact of it all comes down to whether I want to be alone the rest of my life, whatever time I have left, or if I wish to share it with someone every day. I think this is part of my journey in finding home again. This feels like home. For now, we are still working on the day-to-day, just as any new relationship works.
In the end, I still have a lot of challenges before me. Picking up and moving somewhere new is precisely what I needed when I needed it most. If you’ve read half of anythingI’ve written, or know me at all, you know I thrive on figuring out difficult circumstances and forging my own path ahead. That is exactly what I am doing. Stay tuned. There’s so much more to come.
While visiting the picturesque island of Sanibel, I wandered into a small toy store. What started as a casual shopping trip became a profound and unforgettable encounter. Behind the register stood a small woman whose warmth and empathy touched me deeply. As we spoke, I shared my story of trauma and loss, tears streaming down my face. Her response was unexpected yet powerful. She didn’t promise that things would get better, just different.
Her words have echoed in my mind since, prompting me to reflect on my healing process. Can things ever truly get better after trauma and loss, or do they simply become different? This question has shaped my understanding of life since June 2020 as I navigate the twists and turns of an undeniably altered reality.
The Encounter in the Toy Store
It was in September 2020 that I decided I needed to get away. I wanted to go someplace I was familiar and comfortable with. Sanibel Island, Florida, kept coming to my mind. It had been at least 15 years since I had set foot on the island. My memories of it were very fond. With the help and encouragement of my family, I planned a semi-solo trip. I booked two weeks in a small condo on the beach. To stay on the beach in Sanibel for more than a quick visit was on my bucket list, so I had no problem saying yes to myself.
One day, I was out riding my bike and decided to stop at a strip on the main road. I remembered a great little boutique, and it was still there. After shopping, I wandered further in and found a small toy store. I needed to get something for the grandbaby. A small woman was sitting behind the cash register in the corner. She greeted me when I walked in and asked where I was from. Still in an ever-so-fragile state, I started crying and telling her my whole story.
To my surprise, she, too, had been through something quite similar. She recounted another lifetime when she was young, married, and had two adolescent children. A boy and a girl. Her story is not mine to share, but I could see the pain in her eyes. The same pain I felt. It was still there within her, and I could tell she had it buried very deep. She touched my shoulder and said the haunting words I will never forget; “You are still in it. You can’t see past this yet. Things will eventually look different.” And then she stood there and cried with me until the shop phone rang. In that instant, the connection was broken, and I said “goodbye” and left.
Reflecting on “Different” not “Better”
What has stayed with me is her use of the word “different” instead of many others she could have chosen. She could have said “better,” but she didn’t. The pain in her eyes told me she meant to say “different” and nothing else. So I left that day hoping that I might feel different but never whole, never fully healed, and never the same as before…just different.
She also added that things got so bad that she sold everything she owned and moved across the state, where she started a completely new life. How ironic that that might have been the seed planted in my head.
The Nature of Change
Since June 2020, I have driven to the West Coast and back twice by myself. I’ve spent months in Florida, Oregon, California, and Colorado, just to name a few of the most beautiful states I’ve ever seen. When I was caught up in life and tied to a job and family, I had always dreamed of a day just to go. Now was that day, and I took full advantage. Did it heal me? No, but it gave a sense of peace to my heart, knowing my life could be anything I choose to make it from today forward. I remind myself of that frequently.
As of today, his death anniversary has come and gone four times now. I’ve celebrated his birthday five times without him. We’ve had four imaginary anniversaries. We celebrated a new grandbaby who will soon be turning four as well. There are so many milestones, and yet sometimes it seems like yesterday. Just the other day my cousin and I talked about our lives five years ago, and we both agreed that it was another lifetime ago. So many changes in just a short time. Not all changes were for the better, and some were definitely hard. But without them, we wouldn’t all be where we are today.
Is change healing? I don’t have an answer to that. What I have discovered though, is that I am in control of most of the change that happens in my life. We all are; we don’t see it sometimes. We get lost in the chaos of daily life.
I used just to let life go by. Not anymore. Everyone used to say, “Get used to the new normal.” There is nothing normal in the aftermath of losing a loved one. Incidentally, here’s a tip; don’t say that to someone who is grieving.
REFLECTIONS
So, in reflection on “Are things better or just different?” I have to say both. If you’ve read anything I’ve written before, you know I don’t fully subscribe to the stages of grief. Personally, I feel like they are just a made-up roadmap to help us all prepare for unexpected emotions surrounding grief, but I won’t get into that here. Grief has so many layers, as does trauma.
But at the end of the day, things are different now than they were. Some good, some bad, but mostly just “different.” My family has gotten older, I’ve moved several times, accomplished some things I’ve always wanted to do, and seen places I always dreamed of. Some as a direct result of loss, but some not, and each day I wake up, I still have the ritual of looking outside and seeing possibility. When I go to bed at night, I meditate on what I am thankful I still have in my life.
I must confess, my last post about facing the fourth anniversary of the start of my grief journey was a bit of a joke to me and not the haha kind. Although I wrote and rewrote it several times, no words seemed to convey what I was experiencing. I couldn’t quite wrap my thoughts around it. In an effort to just get something out, I pushed through the pain.
Yes, the time dilation was real. I found myself obsessing over photos again. With vivid detail, I could remember everything about a particular moment in time. However, as I kept getting pulled back into moments that happened five, seven, ten years, and more, living in the present seemed like the dream I would eventually wake up from. Only to be met in the present with the inevitable shock wave of grief and trauma over and over.
Believe it or not, that’s how the mind of a surviving spouse works, or at least mine does. Here’s the disclaimer: everyone grieves differently, and everyone processes trauma differently. Your experiences and grief journey may be completely different, and that is okay. Start your own blog. It’s very therapeutic. Click here for some inspiration. You can thank me later.
For reasons unknown, this year was particularly hard. I had the best support, and I’m becoming comfortable in this new life I’ve created. Yet, there is still this intense feeling of loss to contend with. I suppose it’s because the loss was sudden and unforeseen. It was thrust upon me, and I simply had to just deal with it and all of its messiness. Messiness like having to renew my truck plates and both of our names are still listed.
Embracing Clarity in Grief
Lately, I’ve been reminiscing about a couple of widows I met while traveling in Florida early on. Each told me their story of losing their husband. Both were sudden, like me, and both were quite similar, although they were hundreds of miles apart. Each one talked about how they got to a point where they just couldn’t go on in the environment they were in. So, they packed up what little they wanted to keep and moved. One to another part of the state and one from a completely different state. Far enough away to start a whole, brand new life. And with that, they seemed content, like they had no regrets at all.
I also find it interesting that one is living her life alone, completely content in her chosen isolation, while the other started a new career and remarried. They did what was best for their survival. That is exactly how I’m feeling; I have known it for some time. I must go. I must go to a place he and I weren’t and start a new life. I’ve done pretty well at reinventing myself; now I have to take it a little further and go and not look back.
The Vulnerability of Moving On
This year’s anniversary came with so many revelations. In grief, clarity will come. I have to caution you, though, and this is another article I plan to write, be very wary in the first few years. Pay particular attention to who you trust, and constantly doubt everyone’s motives. Intense grief makes one vulnerable. I had people take advantage of me in so many different ways in the first few years of my grief journey. They included friends, family, and trusted individuals. Those with a dishonest heart will see an opportunity, and you won’t know what’s coming because of the cloud of grief.
Solace by The Lake
So there it is. Another year has passed. I can’t say I have much to show for it except for the clarity and maybe a better grip on my life. I know more of what I want, don’t want, and will tolerate. Oh, the book—yeah, then there is that. Incidentally, I’m learning the business of promotion and advertising. I haven’t made a million dollars yet.
As for my anniversary, I spent my day on the beach, one of the best places on earth. Some of the following day was spent there too. Then, on Sunday, I watched one of the most amazing sunrises. It always brings me peace, and this year was no different.
After I started working full-time last year, I could no longer travel as freely as I used to. I enjoyed being spontaneous and flexible with my trips, but with my scarce vacation days, I had to postpone my travel plans. This had me longing for travel, but it also inspired me to plan for future adventures. Being unable to discover new places and cultures was hard on my mental well-being.
I know I’m not the only one that enjoys traveling. Whether you are waiting for your next get-a-way or you’ve had to pause for a minute like I have. Here are some tips for finding ways to cope with the absence of travel and stay positive.
The Value of Travel Adventures
Why do we travel? Most often it’s to unwind from daily life and to explore new destinations. Traveling can also enhance our personal development, cultural awareness, and global outlook. When we go somewhere completely different it can help us to value different viewpoints. We also have the opportunity to examine our own lives and cultivate compassion for others.
After several of my own trips, I found that I came back invigorated and ready to create. Travel sparked my passion for writing and has helped to heal my soul after losing my husband. Getting away and experiencing a new way of life was tremendously enlightening.
Reliving Memorable Travel Moments
During this downtime of mine, I took the time to reminisce about past travel experiences and the unforgettable memories I’ve created. Whether it’s sipping coffee on a crisp morning in Colorado, exploring abandoned roads in California, or hiking through brush in the Sanibel, Florida preserves, these memories can transport me back to those special moments and inspire my future adventures.
Coping with the Absence of Travel
While I may not be able to travel right now physically, there are still alternative ways to fulfill my wanderlust. I’ve embraced virtual travel experiences such as virtual tours. Here is just one website called Taste of Home with an article by Laurie Dixon. In this article, you can find links to virtual tours of NASA, museums, cities, and much more. I have found them very exciting.
Online cultural events are a great way to experience different cultures. Cooking is another way to experience new places and cultures. These virtual experiences can provide a taste of different destinations and cultures from the comfort of our own homes.
Discovering Local Gems
Often, we overlook the beauty and wonder that exists right on our doorstep. Research local attractions, hiking trails, and off-the-beaten-path destinations. Discover hidden gems in your local surroundings.
I recently discovered, and have been exploring a new trail in my community. It runs alongside a creek and has quickly become my new walking spot. By exploring local businesses and communities, we can create meaningful experiences and appreciate the treasures in our own backyard.
Dreaming and Planning Future Adventures
I look forward to getting on the road again someday when my life and time allow. If you’ve put travel on hold for whatever reason, my advice is to stay positive and keep dreaming about future travel adventures and opportunities. Use this time to research destinations, create a bucket list, and plan itineraries for your future adventures. By envisioning future trips, we can stay hopeful and excited for what lies ahead.
While the longing for travel may be strong, it’s important to remember that this situation is temporary. By cherishing past travel memories, finding alternative ways to travel virtually, and embracing local adventures, we can nourish our wanderlust and remain hopeful for future adventures. Travel will return, and when it does, we will appreciate it even more.
I know, the title kind of doesn’t make sense but the feeling is real. Many aspects of my life seem to be moving backward while others are moving forward. I will somewhat always live in the past, that is true. But we are all forced to move forward with the passage of time. As I’ve said before, understanding and accepting this isn’t always easy.
Backwards
My move was settled about a month ago. It was anything but smooth. One would think it easier to take everything down three flights of stairs versus up however, that wasn’t the case. Also curiously, and although I tried really hard not to buy a ton of shit, I in fact, had a ton of shit. Stuff I had accumulated in the short time living in my tiny ass (600 sq. ft.) apartment in Chicago. Wow, I’m still scratching my head about that one.
I’m kind of still living out of boxes. Every day it seems I’ve lost something or can’t find something. And then I tear through boxes again thinking I should have labelled everything.
My new job is fun and I love my co-workers. With Christmas coming up, I am working more. Just for now though. Next year will be somewhat different. Due to the reasons I moved back, I don’t really know what next year has in store for me. I’m both anxious and uneasy about the future. I know there will be more tests to my mental health.
Backwards and Forward
A couple of weeks ago I went backward and forward again, simultaneously. I had to put Malice down. She was mine and my late husband’s husky. We adopted her in 2012 when she was three years old. She was a very unique soul. Watching her go was devastating. It was like losing another piece of Eric. I know she is with him. I felt it. I’ll make an article about her soon. I just haven’t gathered the right words yet.
In the mean time, here a few pictures of her. Her remaining years after my first move from Illinois back, were spent in Kentucky with Eric’s dad. She had a good life.
She was fun and smart. In her early years she was an instigator. She was always the cheerleader of bad doings at the dog outings. I always said she wouldn’t start the fight but she was right in the middle cheering it on. Malice pranced when she walked. She had a swagger of a diva. Lover of all things sparkly and anything that made her stand out. Shirts, sweaters, collars, bandanas, she loved to dress up. Oh and she sang. She had her favorite songs and if you’ve heard her then you know. I will miss her.
Forward
One final thing I wanted to share. I’m putting this out there for my own personal accountability. I am starting my own online publishing business. The business should be up and running in a few months. I’m heavily invested in this in all aspects. I’ve become so passionate about it and love it already. I’ll probably be posting less as I’m still learning the process, and writing of course.
Thanks for reading. I love you all –xxooC
Have you had a time where you felt you were moving both backwards and forward simultaneously?
I often go back through photos to remind myself what I was doing a year or two years ago. Widow brain and brain fog is a real thing. Settling down to one place for a while has me reminiscing more than I ever have since Eric left. Managing to amass so many pictures of places I’ve been and things I’ve done seems overwhelming sometimes. I do miss traveling. There was a sense of calm just being alone on the road.
Many times I’ve heard about widow brain and brain fog. From what I’ve read, it typically lasts up to a year. Mine has lasted much longer due in part to experiencing complicated grief and PTSD. But what exactly are these things? Brain fog is a result of the grief trauma. The mind simply can not process what has happened. And while the symptoms may have commonalities, each individual is different and will have different experiences. This results in mental and physical unintended side effects of grief. As the brain processes and tries to heal, widow brain can result. For me, it’s like walking around in a daze sometimes. I was unable to process time. Mostly living in the moment, I lacked the ability to think very far ahead in terms of weeks, days, or even hours sometimes.
The Traveling Fog
I decided to spend my fog in happy places. My body was in the most beautiful settings yet mind wasn’t there. I’m finding it harder and harder to really remember what I was doing but I definitely remember how I felt. Mostly empty. Searching. Confused. Fortunately I had my people along the way that helped save me. Now I see from what. From myself.
Looking at photos gives me so many mixed emotions. Sometimes I am sad that I can’t remember the moment better. Disappointed I couldn’t have lived in them just a bit longer. More grief because that moment in time is gone and either I didn’t appreciate it enough, or I just existed there. Other feelings are exitement I experienced this space. Grateful for the people I was able to experience it with. Thankful I could even go at all.
Coming Out of The Fog?
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned over the past two and half years is that I am resilient. I didn’t know I was but I guess still being here and healing is a reflection of that. Inside, I’m starting to put everything together slowly. Time doesn’t stop. My mind will never completely heal though. On the outside I may have my shit together but inside, I’m still a grieving mess. I’ve come to terms that I always will be even though coping may get a little easier.
Somehow I get a daily reminder of this. Working has been challenging. Some days I’m just not up to the mental task. Sometimes simply coping with increased anxiety becomes so terrifyingly overwhelming. I take moments to pull my mind together. Especially when I have multiple tasks with a deadline to meet. I have to remind myself I am not the overachiever I used to be. Just doing my best has to be good enough because at the end of the day, a job is what I do. A job is not who I am. My sanity is worth more. Taking time to take care for myself has become so very important.
I don’t think I realized that by traveling and taking the “me” time, I was taking care of myself. Now I have to find other ways. What are some ways you take care of yourself, either mentally or physically?
I’ve been staring at a blank screen for a couple of hours now. I’m not sure why I’m having such a hard time starting this article. My late husband’s ashes rest in many places I’ve visited in the two and half years since he left. I expected the ceremonial process and writing about it would get easier. However, talking about leaving more of his ashes is harder than I expected this time around. Recently, a lot of internal wounds have opened up. My recent experience was extra salt for the already existing proverbial wound. In preparation I think I switched myself “off” during the event. I expected to process all the feels later. Now emotions overwhelm me.
So I added another place to the growing list my husband now rests. Leaving more of him this time has extra special meaning. Anyone who knew him knows how much he loved Kentucky basketball. Ironically, I have to tell this story. For a new role at work, he signed up to take Dale Carnegie classes in Peoria in the Fall of 2019. These classes changed his life but I remember he looked troubled after one particular class. I asked what was on his mind. Our conversation went much like; the class was given an assignment. The assignment was an oral arguement. He had no idea what to argue as he didn’t feel passionate enough about anything. I replied quickly that his argument should be how UK has the best basketball program and team. He smiled and that’s what he did. It was a success.
Honored to do this with one of Eric’s bestfriends. They visited Rupp together on many occasions.
Why Here was Different
Now, when the opportunity to go to Rupp Arena and put some of him there presented itself, I knew I had to do it. It felt right. Part of him should be in a place he loved so much and was a huge fan. But leaving more of him in a place he visited frequently was much different than most of the places before. The last place I left him was on his favorite golf course and the lake behind it. That was super emotional also. Rupp was different though and I couldn’t quite figure it out until now.
A week later, I’ve discovered something new. These two places are moments in time where he existed and was the happiest. His energy lives on in these spaces. In these moments and these spaces, leaving more of him has touched something in the universe that resonates with his very being.
I’m reminded of EDC 2019. Our last year attending this festival together in Las Vegas. The theme was “Kinetic Energy” and Bill Nye introduced, and performed the opening ceremony. He talks about how moving with lots of people in unison and creating kinetic energy together changes the brain. The energy makes us happy. So there is some science to it all.
This spreading of ashes was not a memorial of sorts but an honoring of his existence. An honoring of Eric being happy, in these spaces. And that was my lesson. I’ve had two very different types of spreadings. Ones for me, and ones for him. This one was for both. Rest in peace my love.
I’ve driven through St. Louis multiple times. I have even seen the arch up close and personal in my early twenties. So when someone very special to me asked “Meet me in St. Louis?” I couldn’t say no. I was able to stop overnight on my way out west. While in St. Louis, I took some incredible photos of the arch and downtown. So many places traveled and I seem to forget about some until I’m looking back for a particular photo. Then I run across some great pictures that I would like to share. So here are a few pics from my overnighter just inside the Missouri boarder. The short time there was so fun. Special memories were made and I know I will return again one day.
The Arch
The arch is quite magnificent if you’ve never seen it up close. Made from stainless steel, it glistened in the evening lights. Only recently I discovered the arch was completed in 1965 making it just 57 years old.
The Old Courthouse
St. Louis is also home of the Old Courthouse where the Dred Scott case was filed and heard. “The courthouse was built in 1839 and served as the site for a number of landmark civil rights cases” according to the Gateway Arch web page. You can read more interesting historical information about the Dred Scott Case at the National Park Service page.
Finally, these photos are from sculpture and art discovered while walking around downtown. I hope you enjoy and of course, any feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading! xxooC
My first job in high school was with the Louisville Auto Club in downtown Louisville, Kentucky. There I learned my way around maps. My job was to provide directions to members taking trips. One of the most requested destinations was Sanibel Island in SW Florida. Since then, this little island has been on my list of places to visit.
Then in 2001, my new husband and I decided to take a belated honeymoon trip. He wanted to go to the beach. I wanted something a little less touristy, so we chose Sanibel Island over Labor Day. My time on the island was nothing short of magical. The vibe, the scenery, the wildlife, all of it touched my soul.
Hurricanes and More Storms
I had never been to an island before. The pace is just a little slower. The smell of the salt air and the sand is somehow different. In the following years we visited a couple more times. I got to see most of the major sights. That is until Hurricane Charley made landfall in Punta Gorda in August of 2004. Charley was one of the strongest hurricanes to ever hit the US and one of four that struck Florida that year. Charley intensified just before turning to put Sanibel in its path. The devastation was terrible.
The rebuild was difficult. In 2005 while waiting on a rental car in Fort Myers airport about to go to Sanibel, I watch Hurricane Katrina decimate New Orleans. What irony. Once I arrived on the island, Sanibel showed visible scars from Charley. I watched as small businesses closed. Different restaurants and shops were closed each time I went back over the years. Sanibel did rebuild but it wasn’t the same. It became something different but still just as wonderful. There was even a paperback written about the experience of the island. Topography wise, the causeway between Captiva and Sanibel was eroded. The other worldly canopy of greenery that once completely shaded Periwinkle Way was gone. Trees were uprooted all over the island. The JN “Ding” Darling National Wildlife Refuge I had biked a few years prior took a hit as well and rebuilt different trails.
The Spark That Ignited the Dream
Now back in those days, each rental unit had a guest book. Each guest would write a little something to the owners about their experience there. Kind of like Trip Advisor and Google Reviews now. The person staying in this one particular condo just before me had been there a month. A whole month. That stuck in the back of my mind. I suppose my bucket list started there because the thought of staying a whole month on Sanibel sounded just like heaven to me. Only in my dreams.
2005 would be my final trip to Sanibel for some time. In my mind I lived there. It was my happy place, even then. I kept up with the local news. On occasion I would check out the tidal chart and reminisce about shelling on the beaches, riding a boogie board all day just to eat some fruit on the beach and go back out in the water. Going to Jerry’s Foods and seeing the birds. Sanibel Spirits was also the closest liquor store. Two staples right next to each other.
Slowly over the following years, I forgot about Sanibel. Well, I didn’t exactly forget, just other vacations happened. New and exciting destinations I was able to travel to put Sanibel on the back burner so to speak. Then came 2020. My heart longed to go somewhere familiar. Somewhere I felt at peace. Somewhere away and different than the day to day. I remembered Sanibel. My slice of heaven. So, I booked two weeks in a condo and headed down. I drove this time. I had family move to Venice, Florida recently so I arranged time in Venice before and after Sanibel. There it was. My month in Florida. It was really happening.
Going Back to The Little Island of Sanibel
A lot of my healing took place in Florida. Mostly on Sanibel Island. Including September of 2020, I have spent a total of about 90 days in Florida with 57 being on Sanibel Island. During my EMDR therapy, when I was asked to quickly think of a safe place in my head, Sanibel was it.
Sanibel is no stranger to storms. As an island in the gulf, it can get pretty scary sometimes. Sally was just rolling through on my very first trip back. I stood on the beach as a lightning storm came in first. All I can say is the lightning was an amazing sight. Parts of the island were flooded but for the most part it was business as usual in the following days. I quickly became acquainted with the island once more.
Getting Reacquainted
Every morning my routine was to get up, drink coffee and head out for a bike ride through the JN “Ding” Darling Preserve to watch the birds eat their morning meals. The gentlemen working the toll booth came to know me. Sometimes I would ride down Wulfert Keys Trail and sit on the bench. I liked to sit when it was empty. Some days I rode through fast, some days slower to take pictures and spot the wildlife. It was a good eight-mile trek. Four miles through and another four back. The road through the preserve is one way so getting back was a ride down Sanibel-Captiva Road.
Some days after the ride through the preserve, I would pick a beach I hadn’t seen and ride to it. I spread a blanket and sat or walked around in the surf. Captiva, Bowman’s, Bailey’s, Blind Pass, Gulfside City Park, I’ve seen them all.
This little island is a bikers’ dream. So many other tracts exist, and I’ve traveled a lot of them. There’s a trail between Middle Gulf Road and Algiers Lane which has a cemetery. There is another favorite trail running parallel with Rabbit Road connecting West Gulf Road and Sanibel-Captiva Road. These were my constants.
When I would arrive on the island, I parked my truck and didn’t start it again until I was leaving. Most evenings, I rode to the lighthouse and shelled at low tide. My first ride out always consisted of grabbing an Islander Newspaper and pulling out the tide reports. I lived by the tide. I’ve ridden across the causeway more than once. Once at sunset. The small barrier islands the causeway is built on are perfect to watch the sunsets.
My Most Recent Visit
I was there for Light Up Sanibel during the holidays last year and it was just so special. The walk/bike path down Periwinkle Way was lit up with lights and lanterns. Christmas with an island touch. I had just come from Thanksgiving on Key West and Key Largo, but Sanibel has a much different feel. This island makes you feel at home no matter where you are from.
On my last trip down, I was fortunate enough to be able to try lots of restaurants. If you’ve never been, the island doesn’t like chains of any sort. Local restaurants and businesses thrive and give Sanibel a unique charm. I can’t say enough about the fresh seafood and wonderful atmosphere of the dining I experienced. My favorites were Mud Bugs Cajun Restaurant, The Lighthouse Cafe, and The Mad Hatter.
I can’t imagine the trauma of those that stayed during Ian. My heart hurts at the loss. The loss to the island, and the residents, and everyone who keeps going back because they are tied to this special place in one way or another. I’m so thankful for the time I got to spend there. For every one of the people I met, residents and visitors alike. Sanibel and southwest Florida will rebuild, and I will be back. It will never be the same as it was but then again, I’ve learned nothing ever is.
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy my pictures. xxooC
Hi all. I appreciate every single one of you following my journey. Now I want to share a place that’s quickly becoming a favorite getaway for me. I’ve had the good fortune on multiple occasions now, to visit the Indiana Dunes. This area in North West Indiana boasts a State Park and National Park . It’s the midwest beach. I wrote about scattering some of Eric here a few months ago. Several of you have messaged me and asked about it. So I thought I would feature an article about this wonderful destination spot.
There are many reasons to love this beach. Indiana Dunes National Park has 15,000 acres and 15 miles miles of beach according to the national parks website. This beach sits on Lake Michigan a freshwater lake, so the salt of the oceans’ beaches are not a problem here. It’s closer to the midwestern states than driving south to visit the ocean and there’s plenty of sand and sun during the summer months.
Getting to The Midwest Beach
Of course I’m not telling you anything the locals here don’t already know. I’ve visited this gorgeous place since I met my late husband in 1997. But I didn’t really appreciate it until now. Now I’ve had time. Time to go and just sit whenever I want. Time to spend just enjoying it, so I wanted to share it with you.
The sunsets here are amazing. On a clear night, I can even see the Chicago skyline. But besides these highlights, there is so much more this national park has to offer. The park has 50 miles of hiking trails. This midwest beach not only offers “rugged dunes” but also boasts wetlands, prairies, rivers, and forests.
Attractions
Tucked around the park you will also find lots of local eateries. If you are looking for a place to stay while here, there are also plenty of options depending on your budget and stay requirements. The government parks website also has a page to help plan your trip according to what you want to do. Although just sitting and listening to the waves is always my favorite. So if you are looking for a quick getaway without having to drive or fly and spend tons of money, check out the midwest beach in northern Indiana. I guarantee you will love it plus, if you want to get spicy there’s always Chicago within an hours drive.
As some of you know, and many of you don’t, I am a HUGE fan of electronic music of all genres. I discovered an upcoming show by a DJ I like and have seen before. He was coming to my old hometown of Bloomington, Illinois. So I bought tickets. The show was this past weekend.
This show was significant only in the fact that this would be my first trip back to Bloomington since last June. This trip was going to bring me face to face with my past and future.
Every trip I made back between June 2020 (when my husband Eric died) and June 2021 was super painful. So much so I just avoided going. Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love Bloomington/Normal and I enjoyed every day of the year+ I lived there. But going back to the place of my trauma brought up all kinds of painful memories.
But I decided now was time. Not to confront these emotions, fears, and trauma but the time to stop running from the slightest encounter with triggers. I’ve been in avoidance mode for far too long. I really didn’t give much thought to going beforehand. Anxiety and nervousness were there though. I could feel it rising.
The past
The trip turned out to be exactly what I needed for my future growth. While there, I was reminded of a time just after his passing. I visited a retail store from my previous employment to pick up a few things. Trying to get in and out unnoticed proved unsuccessful. While chatting with a man I had spent some time on the sales floor with, he retold the story of losing his husband.
I had heard this story several times in my previous retail life but now it meant something different as I listened intently. The story was now more personal and I could feel his pain in a very different way. I was still in the first few waves of paralyzing grief. “Still in the fog” as they say. I remember, all I kept thinking was “how is he still standing here?” Then my thoughts went to “how did he get from where I am to where he is?”
So I asked. What was the turning point? His answer surprised me. He replied “I just got tired.” “Tired of feeling this” as his hand waved over his face and chest. I didn’t know what that meant at the time.
The future
Fast forward to now. A received a comment on another article of mine. A family member very close to me has also had significant loss in her life, including the loss of her spouse. His passing was shortly after my husband’s. She is still clinging to her grief. After this weekend of revisiting my past and the life I lost, I realized I am tired. Grief will always be my companion. But I’m tired of it dictating my life and my thoughts. I am tired of the physical and mental anguish. Yet I feel guilt for wanting to let go of the drowning, grief stricken feelings. Those are my badges that remind me of the deep love I still have for the souls I’ve lost.
So where do I go from here? I’ve gone from “waiting to die” to “maybe today will be good.” I made this transition purposefully and willingly. Sure the grief and trauma come back but I have developed a few tricks of my own. Grief has all kinds of surprises. I’m quite sure it has more in store for me. This trip was a win and I feel really good about it. That’s progress. xxooC
