Tag Archives: #bluewidow

Thoughts and Notes

Is it Moving On OR Forgetting: The Analyzing

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street graffiti in chicago moving on

There was once a time not long ago when I never thought I would entertain any thought of another person other than my husband. When he left me in June of 2020 amidst a pandemic, in the middle of our new life together, in a new town, in a new state, it consumed me. The thought of moving on was paralyzing. This amazingly huge loss, this monumental life defeat, was all I could think about, night and day. So, after becoming somewhat stable, I embarked on a quest. One to find myself and reclaim anything left of the life I would have here without him in it. I certainly wasn’t looking to move on, although I unknowingly did.

For a while, not forgetting him and making sure no one else did was a large pillar as well. Then I found myself alone and right back where I started this journey, which wasn’t comforting at all. So, I opened myself up to the option of having someone else in my life. Shall we call it dating? Moving on? That’s up to you to decide.


If you’re a new widow or even an older widow (meaning you’ve been widowed for a while), I’m not going to tell you that you have a time frame for moving on, so to speak. What I will say to you from my own observations is that life gets lonely. Having someone there to support you, albeit not in the ways you once imagined for the rest of your life, isn’t too bad.


Of course, you may already know the benefits of being in a couple as you grow older. There’s been much study and research on this topic. One of the least important aspects is that couples are more observant of each other’s day-to-day habits and rituals and notice more when something becomes “off.” With that said, there are other benefits as well. We all benefit from human connection and touch. Just having someone to listen can surely lower blood pressure, ease stress, and help with a myriad of other things. When we eat with people, we are more likely to make better food choices, thus, in turn, keeping us healthy.


You see, it’s not necessarily about romance, just finding a suitable partner. Sure, if you find a new, budding romance, then that is a beautiful thing; however, as we age, compatibility is the motivating factor. Again, I’m reminded of one of my favorite TV shows, Sex and The City. I don’t remember what episode, but it’s in the last season when Carrie and Aleksandr are at her Vogue editor’s party, and Lexi falls out the window. The editor, Enid, explains to Carrie why the date Carrie brings is unacceptable.

The gist is that dating is brutal when we reach a certain age. Sometimes it can be humiliating. Finding someone who checks even half the boxes in a pool the size of a wading pond is exhausting, if not impossible. So, I say this with the all-knowing and empathetic view of being a widow of a certain age. Again, I don’t consider this moving on, just moving in general.


Now we enter the territory of after you may find someone of interest. I still want to honor my deceased husband’s memory. We were together for many years. So, how do I do this and still make my partner feel worthy? Sometimes, I’m always thinking about my husband. That’s a hard one. I haven’t mastered that one yet. It’s a balancing act; I won’t tell you anything differently. I honor my husband; sometimes it gets in the way of other things. I just say deal with it. I’m dealing with a lot more. Again I say, this is a process of moving on.

me standing on the beach at the indiana dunes moving on


When you finally find someone you want to spend time with, there are ways to remember your deceased spouse and not offend the person you are with. After all, they knew somewhat what they were getting into when they also started spending time with you. I choose to talk about my husband and when the time and place strike me, I spread his ashes in locations across the US. It’s become my thing I want to do with him and if no one understands then I say…go away, let me be. I’ve spared enough people their feelings so far. Don’t spare mine, and I won’t yours. That’s the deal.


So I’ll leave you with this advice: if you feel you need companionship and the thought of being with someone else is appealing, then do it. There is absolutely no time limit for you to grieve and be alone. Only you can decide what timeline is correct for you, and there are no right or wrongs here. The easiest way is to join a social group or an online dating site. You can screen potential partners in the comfort of wherever you are. What I ask is that you please be safe about it. That means common sense things, like telling someone when you will meet someone new. Always meet in a public setting. Give someone else their number and profile so your safe person knows who you are with. Take all the precautions.

Things are not what they were when you met your spouse, and they are not what they were when you were raising your children. Be extra vigilant about whom you spend time with, and you can never have too many precautions in place should something go wrong.

pier at whiting beach indiana, moving on


Above all else, take things at YOUR pace. Don’t let someone else dictate what you should or should not be doing. Remember, you are vulnerable, and you are still healing. Take as much time as you need to feel comfortable in every situation, and know that it is okay to say NO at any point you feel you need to. Protect yourself, guard yourself because no one else will love you like you love you. I think that’s a Miley Cyrus song, but I digress.


Only you can choose the ways to remember your spouse or significant other. Only you know the ways to honor them most. If you haven’t already, I encourage you to start a memory board, book, or online journal—whatever way is best for you to remember them and keep them alive that feels good to you.


Share your memories. I’ll bet there are those out there who have memories of your beloved to share with you. Things you didn’t know or ways they touched someone else that you haven’t heard yet. Seek those people out. Listen and record their memories for you to hold on to. Social media is an excellent way to start. Other ways can be phone records, going through death announcement comments, flowers or donations received in their memory, business cards, and contacts. Unless your person was a really ignorant SOB that did nothing but piss people off, I’m sure you’ll find someone with a good story to tell.

In conclusion, you are the only one in charge of your life now. Fate has played it’s card and this is where you are. No holds barred, you say what goes and what doesn’t from this moment forward in your life. Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting or compromising on what you believe to be true. The dating process is no different now. Just learn the precautions and you will be fine.

I once had the saying; “once you lose everything, anything is possible.” Still I believe that to some extent. Although I also believe we shape the new chapters of our lives in a way that will always honor those we’ve lost while forging a new trail to our hopes and dreams.

I encourage you to take some time, journal what you thought this journey would be like versus how you feel now. Take a hard look at what you want for the time you have left without your significant other versus how you would have spent it with them. What accomplishments can you make, how can you live a life of purpose and have a meaningful existence in their absence? These are all questions to ask and there is so much more discovery on your journey. Hit me back with any enlightenment. I love you all.

Thanks for reading –xxooC

me in kentucky moving on
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

When There is Just More

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Just More Unexpected Trauma

It happened again today. Another flashback, just more trauma. Reliving the “thing” I don’t want to think about, let alone discuss. But there it was. I think this whole experience is all part of reconnecting with the world. After a traumatizing event, it’s hard to be part of something. Because being part of something means exposure. Being vulnerable to more trauma again and never quite knowing when or where I’ll be drawn back into it for a moment, an hour, a day or more.

Luckily today was just moments but the lingering effect lasted much longer. I was taken back several years to just after my trauma. I was trying to make sense of the world around me. Always moving, never looking over my shoulder. Putting time and distance between me and “it.” Today it caught up with me though.

Unintentional But Still

I was doing routine things. At work, not really on guard. It’s a semi-warm day today so I didn’t wear stockings. My thigh tattoo was exposed. Someone saw it and commented and asked about it. Then the whole office was asking, surrounding, questioning. Then there I was, back in my trauma. Explaining what it was, why I got it. Who did it, when he died. All of it. There, at work and I said it all without batting an eye. I’ve come that far by the way. I was very proud of myself. I stood there and told the tale. Then I retreated.

I went to the washroom where no one was and I cried. I cried like I did when I got this tattoo. Like I do every time I spread more of him and feel his soul touch mine once again. The feeling I get when I’m back in my safe place, back when all of this never happened. When I took it all for granted. When I was whole and completely naïve.

Ending The Night

All I can say is tell the people you love what they mean to you because there may not be a tomorrow. Not for them, not for you. I know how cliché that sounds but for my husband it was true. Tomorrow did not come for him. So live like there’s no tomorrow. The one question I go to bed asking myself now is, am I proud of who I am and what I did today? If the answer is yes, then I sleep a little better. If not, then I hope there is a tomorrow that I can do better.

Thank you for reading. I love you all. -xxooC

sunset on a street in chicago
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

A Moment with Another Widow

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north beach in chicago

Not like the Others

I had a moment today. Something insanely karmic happened. I knew it when I was experiencing the moment that it was something uniquely special and there was a lesson here for me. Here in this moment. In this person I had just met and was talking with. I’ve had these random, extraordinary moments a few times since my late husband’s passing. I’ve been open to everything and these moments are hard to miss. The universe puts individuals in my path just long enough for a discussion. I believe it’s to teach me something.

Today was a important day at work. I had a big corporate visit from the ready to wear department heads. They were travelling from New York. We also have a huge sale starting. I’ve been preparing for all of this for over a week. Then, just before everyone was to walk in the door, they were late already, I met a customer on the handbag sales floor.

There was nothing particularly striking about this woman. She was older, and alone. She was standing still just looking around in the sale area. I greeted her with a smile and a welcome, as I do every customer I come in contact with. She proceeds to tell me what she was looking for and we spotted her favorite handbag together. This was nothing out of the ordinary for my job.

Sharing in The Moment

Then something happened. It’s happened before but not this way. Usually it’s me all emotional and I break down. I’m the one that starts talking about my loss. This time it was her. She lost her husband in December. He became ill. I’m not going to talk about her story because her story belongs to her. It’s not mine to share. But her outpouring of feelings and emotions I quickly connected with. She instantly reminded me of the three times I was her. Twice in Sanibel, Florida and once in Venice, Florida. The only difference was, I was the one who layed bare my soul upon defensless strangers. Only to find out they were in fact widows themselves.

The moment just happens. We told our stories. She went first. She endured more loss than just her husband but there were moments we teared up. Together. I could see her. Really see her in her eyes. She shared her loneliness. The loss we felt together. We shared the confusion, the emptiness, the feeling of what’s left over when the closest person you know dies. There, just before my “big” important visit, I became an emotional wreck. Very much on the verge of a break down. Right there in the middle of the handbag department of Macy’s.

Our interaction lasted for what seemed like an eternity. Although I knew I was pressed on time. I wanted to stay there, in that moment just a little bit longer. It was so familiar. But somehow this time it wasn’t as disorienting. More it was grounding, comforting. In that moment I felt this deep connection. Not just to her but to what we shared. What I had gone through to get where I am today.

And Then It’s Over

I’ve written about these moments before. This time, I believe the difference is, she is in the early stages of grief and I no longer am. Even though I’m approaching the three year mark, I’m still grieving. That alone is a hard realization. I also realized that although she is grieving, her grief is different than mine. I have traumatic grief. This is a type of grief that comes from sudden loss and is different than just mourning. I think that was one of my lessons here.

Then just like that, I had to go. My colleague took over. I walked away to greet my visitors. The visit went well. I wasn’t nervous at all. A calmness has stayed with me throughout the rest of today. She reminded me of why I travelled. This woman whom I never asked a name. She touched the very trauma inside me I’ve been trying to bury. Today I was reminded I am a survivor.

To all my readers that wonder if you are alone in your grief. I promise you that you are not.

Thanks for reading. -xxooC

my shadow of me standing on the beach alone a moment with a widow
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Cat Tales or is it Tails?

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Felines on my Mind

It’s snowing here in my little slice of Chicago. I woke up this morning with a heavy heart. My last dream was about Lucy. I’ve been playing with the idea of getting another cat for a while but somehow I can’t commit. I guess I feel like it’s just not the right time. With cats, it’s been my experience, that when you know, you know. Cats seem to adopt their caretakers. Not the other way around. This had me wanting to share some cat tales.

Anyway, I had this on my mind this morning. After I got over the sadness of holding Lucy in my dream, I was quickly chuckling over memories of my late husband. He didn’t really like cats much when we first met. In fact, he kind of hated them. So I got one for our daughter. Then one became two and well, you know how that goes. We quickly had a furry family.

The Kitty Whisperer and a Cat Tale

Over the years our family grew and shrunk. Some cats aren’t destined to stay. They just need a place to land and recouperate before moving on to their forevers. So we considered our house a home for wayward animals. Eric fed everything that ventured onto the front porch. Whether it be feline or of another species persuasion. It wasn’t long before we were quickly going through a 20 lbs bag of dry cat food every week, but he loved it. It wasn’t unusual to see an opposum or a raccoon on the front porch. We often talked about setting up a camera to see what we were encountering because sometimes, we would wake up and whole big bowl of food would be gone overnight.

My husband often called himself the “kitty whisperer” and with good measure. When we were in Kentucky, there was an instance where we were alerted to a “stray” cat that had been put out of a house, down in the cul de sac. Eric spent weeks going down and laying a trail of food for him to find his way to our house. Bubby lived out his remaining years under our house in the crawl space. Going in and out of a vent, Eric would fill his food bowl twice a week and put it back under the house.

Ladybug came to us as the neighbors across the street moved out. They left her. Declawed and homeless. Again, Eric left a trail of food to the front porch. Ladybug spent 3 years as our porch kitty. Content to spend her days lounging on the railings. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be an inside kitty again. Eric kept trying to bring her inside but she insisted she wanted out. That was until we moved in 2019, and then she quickly adapted to life indoors.

ladybug on the front porch cat tales
mini cat tales
pickles cat tales
lucy
nacho

Cat Tales from the Kitty Ranch

Our daughter is also a cat magnet. She brought more than a few home. Eric fell in love with every single one. When he came home from work, every animal got their special “Eric” time. Every one. Every day. I often overheard their conversations. He had his favorites but he truly loved each one for who they were.

When Em was young, she once asked Eric where he went on the weekends. At the time, he was on a shift from Thurs-Sun. So to her, he was gone all weekend. He told her he spent his weekends at his kitty ranch in Wyoming. And just like that, The Kitty Cowboy was born. Eric could tell some tales. She believed him and he proceeded to tell her some of the wildest, funniest cat tales imaginable. Sometimes he would take along a kitty or two from home to help out with the all of the kitty wrangling and ranch chores.

I remember one instance when Em was in middle school. Her teachers sent a note home. The note said the last few days of school would be spent as if the children were away at camp. We had to pack pillows, flash lights, blankets, and other things. Parents could send packages like mail. Eric sent her a package with a letter from the kitty ranch. We still talk about it to this day.

Letter from the kitty ranch cat tales

The Biggest Tales are the Best Tales

Once I got a text at work. Eric proceeds to tell me Lucy showed him the zipper where she takes off her fur coat. She took it off and ran around the back yard naked. He said it was so amazing. And then promised her he wouldn’t tell a soul, but of course he had to tell me.

Another story comes to mind of Nacho. Nacho was Eric’s favorite although he wouldn’t admit it. Nacho was the master Ninja. He has blades of steel on the ends of his toes. These blades are unmatched. Nacho weilds them like no other kitty because he is specially trained by a Liger.

Animals bring so much joy to our lives. I love my dog Odin dearly and he is becoming this quirky, fiercly loyal, and fun loving guy. Odin has stepped in as my emotional support animal for my chronic disorders but still. There is just something about a cat. So until my kitty love finds me, I’ll be sitting here patiently waiting. I just hope it doesn’t take too much longer.

Where are my fellow cat lovers? Show me some photos and tell me some cat tales until I find my kitty love again.

Thanks for reading. I love you all xxooC.

Destinations, On The Road, Thoughts and Notes

Leaving More, Our Journey Continues

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Leaving More of Myself

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.

inside rupp arena during basketball game leaving more
scattering ashes leaving more
outside rupp arena leaving more
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.

eric and i at edc
kenetic stage
temple at edc

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.

Thanks for reading. xxooC

eric wearing his uk hat with me
On The Road, Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Times Change

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Times Change. Love Doesn’t

Seasons change and so does life. Life goes on even after someone we love dies. The death is a huge loss and an unmistakable marker in the life of the persons that loved them. However time is both forgiving and not. Times change and time changes things. It helps move around and disorder our thought processes but it doesn’t erase what happens. My husband died. Time doesn’t stand still for me. I don’t love him any less. In fact, I think I love him more. But what I’ve realized is, I’ve been running. Running to get as far away as possible from all of the memories. My thinking was, if I ran far enough, the memories couldn’t hurt me anymore. I was wrong. They still hurt. But I changed my circumstances so I didn’t have to dwell in the past.

I’ve been fortunate enough to be able to take the time I need to grieve and heal a bit. Now I’ve come to a place in my life where I’m tired of traveling so much, so often. It’s just not that enjoyable anymore. So I decided to settle down for a moment. I reached out to old colleagues and friends and I ended up right back where I left off. Well, not exactly where I left off but kind of.

lillies in new apartment in chicago. times change

Moving doesn’t mean Moving On

I once had my “dream job.” Those who knew me then, knew I loved my job. It was the best and I excelled in it. Then, I had to leave for future growth. Now I’m back. And I love it. I relocated to a city I love, Chicago. Best of all, I feel totally supported. Both in my professional and personal life. Getting back to a routine is hard. Living a new city is hard. I moved to the city. A big city. I’m learning my way around. I wanted something new and this is the best of both worlds. Stay tuned for more adventure as I explore and get acquainted with my new surroundings.

Thanks for reading. I love you all. xxooC

city of chicago skyline as I drive home. times change
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Self Love. How I am rebuilding.

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What is Self Love?

“Self love” is not to be taken as vanity. When I say self love, I mean learning to like myself. This means accepting me, my body, the imperfections, the mental states I fluctuate through, the flaws, all of it. In a previous article, I talked a little bit about learning to love myself again. After the trauma of losing my husband, I can honestly say I lost myself. Completely. I became a shell of the person I was.

Finding My Self

At first, everyone kept telling me to be kind to myself. Back then I had no idea what that meant. All I knew then was that I didn’t like myself, the world, and everything around me. I didn’t really care about myself anymore, neither physically or emotionally. Looking back, I think some of these feelings are normal. Especially at the beginning stages of grief. But they are undoubtedly destructive and traumatic.

Finding any acceptance and self love again is a process. One that can be long and complicated regardless of the circumstances which caused the loss. Also, the process can quickly become stalled or derailed for any number of reasons. Sometimes the path forward is very unclear.

As I began to travel and spend more time with myself, I realized I didn’t really know “me” at all anymore. I had to get reacquainted with things I liked doing, foods I liked eating, and so on.

sunflowers on my morning walk rebuilding self love

How I Started Rebuilding Self Love

Below is a list of 10 things I started practicing regularly. Small things I keep coming back to. Even when I’m traveling, I try to be mindful of the small rituals. They also provide stability in my life when the world around me is changing. Each one has helped me on my journey to regain self acceptance and build my self love.

This is how I regained some self love in a few quick steps.

  • Set an early alarm.

    Whatever time I have to get up, I set a separate, earlier alarm.
    This allows me reflection and relaxation time. I can lay there and enjoy a few minutes of the morning before starting my day. Sometimes I get up and look outside. Other times I lay with my eyes closed and focus on what I want to accomplish today. Most times I just use it to enjoy how good the warm bed feels. This sets the tone for the rest of the day.

  • Allow one indulgence every day.

    This can be as simple as a favorite coffee creamer. Try a new scent in the shower. Listen to water falling or birds chirping. Can’t get outside? Here’s my quick search on Amazon Music of nature sounds to try. Stop and enjoy the smell of fresh flowers or essential oils. Pet an animal and feel the soft fur. I Indulge my senses in something that brings me joy at least once a day. The feeling stays with me and instantly puts me in a good mood.

  • Don’t look in the mirror too much.

    Of course I need to be presentable but I don’t linger in the mirror like I did in my younger years. At first, after the trauma event, I didn’t look in the mirror at all. This was me avoiding my self care. Then I looked in the mirror too much, obsessing over what I had neglected. The road to acceptance was somewhere between getting ready, self affirming that I looked ok, then not looking again. Unless it was an occasion glance when I visited a wash room. You’ll be surprised how much your appearance starts to take a back seat to whatever else is going on for the day.

  • Do something that makes you feel good about your body.

    Again, this is involving the senses. I purposefully do one thing, everyday that makes my body feel good. It can be taking a walk (my energy level is still low) lotioning myself (my skin is perpetually dry). At night, whitening my teeth is an occasional “feel good” thing I do after brushing and flossing. Polishing my nails with a clear coat is another big one.

  • Laugh.

    This sounds simple and really it isn’t. Sometimes I don’t feel like laughing. Some days are just too intense. Those are the days I try hard to find something funny. The other day it was reading my daughter’s old school journals from elementary school. I try to laugh at least once a day. Maybe it’s looking through memes on social media. I have my Instagram feed set so I see funny memes and tweets. I often share them with family members when I know they will love them too. A shared laugh is always doubly sweet.

  • Provide service to someone else.

    This one doesn’t have to be difficult unless you make it. It can be as big or as little as you are comfortable with. I have made it a habit to open doors for others. Ask if an elderly person needs help with their groceries in the parking lot. Let someone in when they are trying to merge in traffic. Simply put, make someone else’s day better.

  • Don’t be judgmental.

    If someone else is doing something I don’t like and it’s not directly bothering me, I walk away. The energy wasted on just even thinking negative thoughts is not worth it. That energy can be used in a more positive, productive way that will make me feel better. Just don’t do it.

  • Eat slowly and make proper food choices.

    This is a huge one for me. I struggle with food constantly. My eating habits have changed drastically in the past two years and I tend to eat very unhealthy. So when I haven’t chosen the smartest meal, I chew slowly to enjoy each bite and I leave some on the plate. Simple. It works for me. I also try not to beat myself up about what I’m eating. Tomorrow is another day to do better.

  • Don’t over drink alcohol.

    You knew this was going to be in here somewhere. I tend to drink too much. When I do, it’s not pretty and I end up eating too much also. I start to hate myself. I feel terrible later. Both mentally and physically.
    Now when I think I’ve drank too much, I try to drink a LOT of water before going to sleep. And I mean a lot! But, I wouldn’t have to if I just didn’t drink so much. These are just suggestions and tips. I’m still working on this one.

  • End the day with gratitude.

    When I’m laying in bed at night, just before I close my eyes, I try to reflect on the day. I try to find at least one thing I am grateful for in that day. Maybe it’s seeing friends and family. Sometimes it’s something I’ve experienced. Other times it’s a polite comment someone has payed me which takes me back to 6 and 7. I bought a journal (sponsored) in Florida that helped me document my goals and gratitude daily. If it helps to journal, then definitely do it. I highly recommend it.

It Really Is That Simple

So there you have it. I’ve tried to make it as simple as I can. I wanted to share the things I’ve been practicing. No, I am not a master at any of them. On certain days I find some of these are more difficult than others. I don’t do every one every day. Though again I will say, tomorrow is another day to do better. And as time flows on, I believe they’ve helped me. Finally, building self love is a journey and any progress is still progress. Baby steps.

Good luck and let me know what works for you! Do you have any suggestions for things you use?

Love you all. xxooC

Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Surviving Loss, Reflections Of A New Life

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Preface: I wrote “Surviving Loss” six months ago. It truly is a piece on reflections. Where I was then is not where I am now. In six months, I have had two celebrations of life for Eric. I have journeyed to new places I have never been before. Seen things I’ve never seen and experienced things I never thought I would. Grief is still with me but I am in a different place with it.

When I reread this, I found meaning and a message I wished to convey which is why I am posting it even though it’s a little outdated for me. I hope you get something out of it too. Thanks for reading. xxooC

I Am Surviving Loss

It’s been 21 months since my life took a distinct and dramatic turn. Surviving loss means that today I find a completely different me after a year and nine months into this new life I did not choose. I’d like to say I’ve learned a lot since my husband’s passing in June 2020. Everyone calls me strong. I hate that word and I don’t especially like hearing it. I’m not strong, I simply open my eyes everyday. It’s something that must be done because there is no other choice for me.

What Surviving Loss Taught Me

I have struggled almost daily. Grief is a weird thing. I can’t say I understand it any more than the day this journey started. The one and only thing I am absolutely sure of now is, I am still here. I find ways to go on. With surviving any loss comes guilt. That I have also learned. How I deal with the guilt is what matters. At some point if I do not make peace with it, it will destroy the rest of the time I have left here.

Loneliness is another constant struggle of surviving the loss, especially the loss of a companion. I shared meaningful time and space with someone that no longer exists. Now these memories are mine and mine alone. New memories will not erase them or their impact on my life and soul.

Time does not heal all wounds. That saying is a myth and anyone who has lost someone closest to them knows this. Time in fact does heal quite a bit though as I think it has smoothed out my memories. Time allows me to perceive things just a little bit differently. Not so painful as when the event was first experienced. What I mean by this is, I move through time after loss, the event seems further away. As I put new memories and distance between the event and now, my brain somehow begins to interact differently with the world around me becoming more engaged and less stuck. However, the curious thing is that the pain remains. The pain is ever flowing like tidal waves against the beach. Sometimes the waves are small and other days they are big. It would be so nice to have a forecast.

Finding Self

My life has changed so much since that day. As time continues to move forward, the old me becomes less and less familiar. Would he recognize me now? I don’t know, as some days I do not recognize myself. I went through a period of self hate. Grooming habits were thrown aside and became of little interest. My thought pattern was, if I didn’t like myself, I didn’t want anyone else to like me either. But others close to me still, did in fact like me, and had lots of love for me.

My wise daughter once told me I should try to look at myself through my husband’s eyes. She was so right because once I finally could do that, my perspective changed. I loved this body I was given and I didn’t really want to destroy it anymore. After these revelations, I found a bit of joy visiting with my family and I could see they really cared about me, more than I cared about myself. This felt strangely comforting. Maybe that’s more healing.

I’ve read it takes 66 days to form new habits. I’ve also found this to be somewhat true. Trying to get back into the world around me has taken much longer however, practicing one new habit for several weeks has proven to be beneficial to my emergence from paralyzing grief. The smallest of things I considered a huge accomplishment at first. I started with simply texting, no phone calls. Just reaching out to my closest friends that were there for me in the beginning.

Finding Self Love

I also started practicing more self love. This phrase made absolutely no sense to me at first but it means caring for your body. The body still has needs. Food for sustenance, bathing for cleanliness and hygiene, the mind needs stimulation. Small things that felt good and brought a moment of relief from the intense pain. It all was hard at first and I took baby steps but over time, these small gestures of self care grew into love. I think I love myself more than I ever have in my life because I’ve survived this long. After being a couple for more than two decades, I have survived on my own and that is an accomplishment I never thought I would ever see.

indiana dunes at sunset surviving loss

Surviving Continued

I don’t have the answers. I’m not a therapist or a coach. I am only sharing my story. This is my story of grief and surviving loss. Just like every individual is different, every grief story is different. No two are alike. We may share some similarities but we are all different. I believe the key is finding what works to help navigate in the world around us.

Ultimately I will never heal, only learn how to be a functioning member of society again. I don’t believe the pain and sadness will ever go away but now my goal is to balance it with good. My husband would want this for me. I want to honor him and I want his memories to live on.

If you have lost someone, talk about them. Talk about the good times, the stories, their lives. If anything, I’ve learned grief will always be a companion but it doesn’t always have to be the derailing detour it tries to be.

sunflowers blooming surviving loss
Destinations, Thoughts and Notes

Things I Wished I Had Said

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An Idea Becomes Reality

My late husband Eric was never one to have anyone to make a fuss over him. His birthdays were never a big deal. I am absolutely positive he wouldn’t want his death to be a big deal either. But yet I felt I had to do something for the community he spent half his life in. I wished I had done something sooner, but something is better than nothing. So I organized a memorial/celebration of life. Since I’ve been spreading his ashes all across the country, I thought it only fitting that he be in Shelbyville, Kentucky also. The place where he worked and spent so much time with friends and family. Where he golfed, fished, and all of the other hobbies and things people do in their lives to spend time.

The Anxiety Begins

Since the moment I picked a definitive day and formally created the event, I felt anxious. Anxious for two reasons. One that my anxiety would go off the rails and two, that the whole thing would become something he wouldn’t approve of. The goal was to honor him and remember him, not mourn him but celebrate the impact of this great person on the peoples’ lives he touched. I think he would have liked that.

As the event drew near I became unhinged. There were times I wished I had not planned this thing. My anxiety was worse than it had been in over a year. It still is, even after this is all over. I want to talk about this because I am not the only one. I know many that struggle with anxiety. The hows and the whys it rears it’s head are still a mystery to me. Unexpected and unexplained are my panic attacks.

What I Wished I Had Said

Anyway, the event came and went. After the fact, I realized that there were things I wished I had said. Anxiety had me paralyzed leading up to the whole thing. In the moment, I didn’t really say anything about him. So here it is. Eric was a great human being. Only after his passing did I realize what an impact he made on so many. I still hear stories about things I knew nothing about. To me he was just Eric. My husband. My hero, my cheerleader, my partner, my companion. As with most couples, we argued, we grew as individuals together as well as growing as a couple together.

Our lives changed but we seemed to thrive on change. Stagnation was our weak point. Eric was insecure about himself. He didn’t see himself as a leader yet he challenged people to be better. He was the biggest asshole I know but he was so funny when he was. Most days he acted like he didn’t have a care in the world but he worried about everything. To the point he had problems sleeping. This is the man I knew. He was human, an inspiration.

Afterthoughts

I know he meant a lot, to a lot of people. I think we all have it in us. That spark that lights up someone else. Just when you think no one is looking they are and you just might be someone else’s inspiration, hero, role model, teacher, friend and not even know it. Even in death he has challenged me to think about what people will say about me when I’m gone. I hope I live up to the challenge.

Thanks for reading. xxooC

the tree at lake shelby where I spread Eric's ashes. I wished I had said more
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

More Loss and Finding Hope

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First Comes Loss

I’ve experienced more loss in the past two years than I have my entire life. I am quite sure other folks have had much more than me so I am in no way saying I am special. But with the passing of Lucy, I was able to watch her go. I’ve been preparing for it for a while. Something I didn’t get to do with the other losses in my life. I’ve written about trauma and I believe being present is a special kind of trauma. One that hits hard and shakes to the soul. Losing is one thing, watching the loss was something altogether different for me.

Somehow though, processing this loss has been easier which leads me to the question, am I stuck on the other loss because of the circumstance surrounding the passing? I would love some feedback from others that have had to prepare for a loved one’s passing and were there when it happened. Was the event so traumatic that it alone was hard to recover or did watching the process and preparation make it easier to accept and recover. And please, when I say “recover” I use that term loosely. Recover just means to return to a somewhat normal existence on the surface. Functioning I suppose.

more loss and finding hope in lucy's death. Lucy's noseprint
more loss and finding hope. Lucy's paw print

Next Comes Lost

I’ve said before. Loss is loss and everyone experiences and reacts differently. No one’s experience is right or wrong. I also believe there is no time limit for feelings and emotions. They last as long as they last. I know I’ve somewhat learned to live again, and on the outside I may look like I’ve moved on. My insides say differently. I still get waves of the gut punch and the breathlessness when I think about the life I had, the life I should have, and what will never be.

I visited my doctor recently who is a deeply spiritual man. He looked me in the eyes and told me the only way through grief is through service. Only then will I appreciate what I have now and see past my loss. Those were wise words that I already kind of knew, but hearing them solidified that. I have had the opportunity to do small things since my journey into grief and mourning started and the feeling I felt was indescribable. My doctor also said to make sure I was living a life that honored my husband. A life in which he would still be proud to call me his wife. That hit home. I’ve been lost. A lot. Spiritually and physically.

Finally Hope

So now I’m thinking, maybe I’m getting better at handling loss. With that I mean, maybe I am developing instincts and ways to cope and deal and possibly block out the super painful things that I can’t deal with again. That’s a scary thought. I’ve read and heard of individuals living with PTSD whom never discuss their pain and trauma. Like veterans and refugees. It’s called trauma denial. Some things are just too horrific and the brain will try to forget and not deal with them.

Life is a journey. I never thought mine would lead me here. Something helpful from a previous job, I do try to practice gratitude everyday. I am thankful for the people and family I still have. I am thankful for the things that bring me joy each day. When I lay my head down or wake up in the morning, I know a full day is not promised.

I am hopeful as I continue down this path that there is a place for me somewhere on this earth. Somewhere where once again I can call it mine, and it feels like home. Until then I will continue to wander and do the things that I’ve always wanted that make me smile. Thanks for reading xxooC

Lucy’s Adventures, Uncategorized

Kitty Love, Saying Goodbye

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How We Met

July 2002 was extra special. That was the year my kitty love Lucy was born. And, the month we met. My in-laws had a pay lake out in Waddy, Kentucky. My father-in-law called me a few days after my birthday. He asked if I wanted a kitten that had been orphaned. She was feral and living in the chicken coop on the feed. He caught her in a box trap. I sent my husband to get her. She arrived in a small dog crate. She was very tiny and fit in the palm of my hand. I grabbed her by her scruff and gave her a bath. I removed the fleas I could find and then wrapped her in a towel. She was mine ever since. I named her Lucy. Not for any particular reason other than she just looked like a Lucy.

There was nothing special about this little calico kitten. She was every color a cat could come. Lucy had one leg that was tiger striped. Some gray and black striping, and some white as well. I remember all I wanted was for her to sit with me but all Lucy wanted to do was run and be a kitten. She was curious about everything. Sun loving, always finding the warm spot in the house to catch a nap.

kitty love. lucy looking laying on bed looking at camera

The Early Years

Somewhere around the middle of her life, she calmed down a bit. She was showing that she wanted to be next to me. Her gestures to “pet me, pet me” were heard loud and clear. From 2007-2009 I earned an online degree from home and she was my constant companion every single day. We spent many days together as she laid next to me while I would read, write, and learn. Then Lucy started sleeping with me. The favorite snuggle spots would change now and then, and for a while it was on my head, then on my waist. Sometimes she would tuck herself up against me. Other times she would sleep between the pillows.

Lucy loved to go outside and lay in the sun. She loved to eat grass. She talked, a lot. Not only to me but to others she liked. We developed our own language. Her intentions were clear when she wanted to convey love. There were moments we would just look at each other in acknowledgment of our existence and our connection. She was a soul mate. Not everyone can have a bond with an animal.

To look into another animal’s eyes and feel a connection, we understood each other. She would show me she loves me back by laying her head on me. She showed me by laying her paws on me. By wanting to be with me, by wanting to touch me and be touched. By constantly talking to me. In the end, she was very clear about her wants and needs both physical and emotional.

my kitty love lucy laying on bed with my hand on her belly

Defying The Odds

Then in 2016 she lost a lot of weight. In her glory days when she was healthy, she topped out at 13.5 lbs. She was now down to 9 lbs. Lucy had hyperthyroidism and was put on medication. After starting medication she gained some weight back. Finally in 2017 we received another diagnosis, this time it was lymphoma. The vet gave her 90 days to live. She defied that like she did with so many other things.

Lucy maintained well on her own until the end of last year. Mobility became a struggle. As her medication increased and her physical limitations grew, I decided she needed constant care. I started taking her on my journeys, under vet supervision of course. She seemed happier and we spent a lot of time together. But I knew our time was limited and I could be saying goodbye to her on the road somewhere.

kitty love lucy looking into camera

Goodbye My Love

On August 8 at around 12:15pm, Lucy took her last breathes here on this earth. Her body had been failing her for some time. The whole transition was quick. She let me know that morning there was something wrong and it was time. Although I somehow knew this as she hadn’t eaten since the day before. I held her until she left and then a little longer. Before she left me though, I told her everything I always repeated to her and everything I had been preparing to say up until then.

“I love you. You are my soul mate. If you can come back, please find me. I’ll love you until the day I die and beyond. You were the best kitty in the whole wide world. No one will ever love you as much as I do. I love you most of all and you have been a huge comfort and a loving companion. Thank you for being in my life. Thank you for loving me back. I’ll miss you but I know you must go. Don’t be afraid. It’s ok to go. Go to Papa. I’ll be ok. I’m here until the end. I love you.”

And with that, the animal love of my life passed to meet her Papa waiting for her on the other side.

Thank you all for accompanying us on this final journey. I love you all. xxooC

kitty love Lucy sitting on a box
lucy laying on my arm looking at me
lucy laying her head down looking at camera
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Grief and Trauma Labels

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What Are Grief and Trauma?

A quick Google search and I found definitions for grief and trauma. Grief is a “deep sorrow caused when something or someone you love has been taken away.” Trauma is an “emotional response to a distressing experience.” So on first glance one would think the two are somewhat related. I tend to disagree. I’ve witnessed trauma from friends that did not experience grief. I have also seen grief without trauma.

PTSD and Distress

It wasn’t until I was coping with uncontrollable physical and mental situations that I was able to distinguish the two. So I did what anyone would do and I went to the doctor. Usually when I would hear of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), I would think of service people or victims of natural disasters. I was really surprised when I was diagnosed with PTSD and complicated grief. Neither of which I understood at the time. Then throw in generalized anxiety disorder to this mess for a distressing, no end in sight, anguish.

My PTSD caused me to become stuck. Stuck in only what I can describe as an obsessive thought process. My image kept playing over in my mind on repeat. I was helpless to stop it, to process it, to understand it. This compounded my anxiety which crippled me in the beginning. I knew I needed professional help but who and what was beyond my comprehension. Then one day, while I was at the med spa of all places, my nurse practitioner was working on me and mentioned she knew of a licensed therapist practicing EMDR therapy.

EMDR for Trauma

EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing. Yeah, that’s a mouthful. But basically what this therapy does, is it uses rapid eye movements similar to REM sleep patterns to help the brain reprocess memories and work through them. EMDR uses both sides of the brain. Has it helped? Well, yes and no. Reprocessing is not immediate. It takes time to work through. Afterwards though, my brain is no longer stuck. The once devastating memory holds little power over me. After EMDR therapy is when I was able to start traveling. So that was good, but my body and mind remain damaged. Damaged by the trauma I endured during the event which caused this image in the first place.

My Experience and My Discovery

What I didn’t understand at first is that grief and trauma are completely different things. Each requires a level of processing and therapy that don’t necessarily go together. As often the case with medicine these days, I have become my own advocate. My experience with each has opened my eyes. I carry each with me daily. How I deal with each is different. Understanding this is half the battle for me. Maybe one day I’ll be able to leave one or both behind but I doubt it. I do have hope that one day I will be able to cope with them better today than I did yesterday.

Have you had EMDR or are curious about it? Let’s talk!

Thanks for reading! xxooC