Tag Archives: #findingpeace

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
Destinations, Thoughts and Notes

Managing The Widow Brain

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Widow Brain and The Fog is Real

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.

savannah georgia sign widow brain
hollywood sign
marie laveua's house in new orleans
lorraine motel sign
lake pontchartrain sign
the golden gate bridge widow brain
st louis arch
menu from guy fieri's taco dive widow brain
the shining picture at timberline lodge
flagstaff road sign widow brain
elevator on cruise ship with GC logo
me in front of sign at casperson beach florida widow brain
welcome to golden colorado sign
smith rock state park sign widow brain
mt antero trail map
rest stop in nebraska
me in front of cottonwood pass sign widow brain
napkin from durango train ride
venice beach sign

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?

Thanks for reading! xxooC

me in front of seaside sign
allman bro memorial
me on the steps of the st louis arch
me on the slopes at wolf creek
me at a look out point in california
me in castle in colorado widow brain
me in the seattle space needle
me in front of colorado sign widow brain
tybee island sign
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
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Speed Bump Days

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The Intense Anxiety

Another mile stone came and went this week. Monday would have been my 25th wedding anniversary. I knew this day would come. Not the speed bump day, but the day when I couldn’t run from the feelings. Until now, before this move to Chicago, I would just go wherever I want to spend a painful day. Some place I can’t possibly be sad. Last year I was in Redding, California and the year before was Sanibel, Florida. Sounds great and it was. Well that didn’t get to happen this year. I couldn’t get the day off and was forced to work.

I wasn’t quite sure how the day was going to go. And I must say I was extremely anxious about it the night before. The thoughts of working, being in a vulnerable environment should things go south was overwhelming. My GAD was definetly getting the best of me. The next morning was worse but I eventually got out the door. I was especially nice to everyone that day because I wanted everyone to be nice to me. My emotions were crazy. The flashbacks and PTSD even came back that morning. I cried harder and more than I have in some time. But as I keep reminding myself, my tears are for me.

sunset from my bedroom window speed bump

Making it Over the Speed Bump

This day came and went just like all of the other 900+ days since. I’m still here. Picking up the pieces of my sanity. Struggling to look normal on the outside while quietly falling apart most days. Every time one of these speedbump days rolls around. There’s this gentle reminder I’m not the same person I was and life for me will never bear any resemblance to what it was before that day in June of 2020. I wish I didn’t have to continue to mourn but parts of me will, for the rest of my life.

I started this blog to get my writing out and just to have a place to house it. Along the way, so many of you have reached out with personal stories of your own grief and how my writing has touched you. Thank you for reminding me I’m not alone and I am humbled that my writing can help anyone. The common thread I see, is that we all have some level of grief in our lives but each one of us is unique. So how we feel it, how we deal with it is a completely individual story. I still believe we never process or move on from the trauma suffered from grief. It just gets redefined. And somehow with each new speed bump comes the learning experience on how to deal with it in my daily life.

Thanks for reading. xxooC

a white rose
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Role Models in A Widow’s Perpective

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Definition of Role Models

I wanted to share with you my writing prompt today in the most amazing book my daughter gave me for Christmas. It was “who are my role models and what qualities do they have?” I didn’t have to think long before I realized my daughter is my biggest role model and I’ll get more to that in a minute.

But first, what is a role model? I had to look up the definition because although I thought I knew what it was, I wanted to find out exactly what the definition was. I found equal but different descriptions. Merrium-Webster Dictionary says “A person who’s behavior in a particular role is imitated by others.”

That’s kind of vague I think. Dictionary.com had a few definitions and I kind of liked their cultural one better. It says “A person who serves as an example of values, attitudes, and behaviors associated with a role…Role models can also be persons who distinguish themselves in such a way that others admire and want to emulate them.” And still another site stated there can be negative and positive role models which I completely agree with but for the purpose of this article I am focusing on the positive.

My Inspirations

In doing this excise, it didn’t take long before I thought of my second role model. And that person would be my late husband. Somehow in the relationship when we finally become one unit. Our traits and personalities began to compliment each other instead of working against one another.

We became our biggest fans and cheerleaders. He posessed a lot of qualities I aspired to. Don’t get me wrong, he definitely had faults but he was strong, rescourceful, and bold. He had a presence that I do not possess but wanted to. When he left I went through a time when I lost myself because I looked to him for guidance. A guidance I am just now understanding the depth of. Which is another reason I embarked on a self discovery journey over the past two and half years. I’m still learning myself all over again.

My Role Model Still

Besides these two beautiful souls, I can’t say I’ve really had anyone else I’ve considered a role model. Sure, I could have easily just picked a random celebrity or inpsirational speaker. But those aren’t really the kinds of people I look up to. I never have. No one has had multiple qualities I aspired to. Of course each of us have certain good traits but to look up to someone and trust their judgement, want to emulate their qualities, and push to achieve their wisdom, no…I can’t say that until I met my daughter.

My daughter as an adult is one the kindest, gentlest persons I have ever met. She is so much like me and then she has all of these other wonderful qualities. She is strong, fiercely loyal, and an independent thinker. She’s compassionate, empathetic, and understanding. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have her as my daughter but I am grateful the universe put her in my life. She was a delight as a child but as an adult, she’s simply amazing and I am in awe of her often.

Through A Widow’s Eyes

So as a widow, now I understand. Along with all of the shock of losing my husband. I also lost my role model. Sometimes we choose role models, and sometimes they just enter our lives at the right time. I think I could say both of mine just entered and then I chose them. My question today is who can I look up to now? I’ll let you know when I find them because there are a few individuals on my radar.

Who is your role model and why? I’d love to hear. Thanks for reading xxooC.

sunflower display at the louisville zoo role models
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

All The Matters

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What Really Matters

Oh Hi!! WOW! The last few months have been CRAZY!! I try to keep up with everyone on social media. All of it matters. But let’s be honest, most of what is posted mixed with what is filtered is irrelevant. I am still in the process of reengaging. By reacting to a social media post takes a moment of time and energy. I have decided as I give my time in exchange for money, I don’t want to exert excess energy on things which really do not matter. Regarding all the matters, so many things really do not matter.

So what exactly DOES matter? I ask myself this all the time. Well, my loved ones matter. My “inner circle” so to speak. I suck at engaging anymore. My energy level just hasn’t returned. I’m not sure it ever will. I only have so much energy in one day for so much. Then I am done. That’s it. I’m physically and emotionally DONE.

I often wonder if I am the only one feeling this way or this is just the result of the trauma I’ve been through. Either way, expending energy where I feel is unecessary is daunting. So what to do?

When Saying No is OK

For now, just becoming aware of the difference. Understand it’s okay to say no to some things. It’s perfectly okay to just say I can’t do this now. Whether it be laundry, chores, obligations, life. Of course there are going to be things. Things I MUST do. Those things matter, and have to be factored in. Then, if there isn’t anything of me left, I am getting better saying it’s time to stop. Learning to recognize the point I need to stop is still challenging. Slowly I am learning what truly matters.

These are reflections I have learned through my new meditations. Daily I take a few minutes and ponder the good stuff. It’s been very satifying. Not only am I more grateful, but my meditations have also helped me see what exactly is important. What I want to focus more on in my life. What I don’t want in my life and/or things to cut out. And finally, the things I want more of and to do more of.

Speaking of gratitude, my daughter got this book for me for Christmas. (This is NOT a paid advertisement!!) I’ve started and with the first couple of days it’s really opened up my thoughts and inspirations. Not only is it positive but it leaves me with things to think about. Self discovery is never a bad thing.

Soul Therapy All the matters

Update On The Move

Moving has been an experience in itself. I kind of knew it would be but I had no idea living in a city of this size was such a different way of life. As I mentioned before, I live in the North/Northwest neighborhood of Logan Square. I am about six miles from the lake. Which by the way, I have not visited as a resident yet. Anyway, before moving here I always thought I was somewhat a cultured city girl. Boy was I wrong! I have never felt more country than I now do at times and the strange thing is, I’m okay with it. I am adapting and growing.

The culture in Chicago is amazing. This city is so diverse. I can go a few blocks and be in a completely different neighborhood with a completely different ethnicity and culture. That’s what makes this city so unique. One thing in particular I have noticed is the people are really nice. Nicer than I expected. Of course no one says “hi” on the streets or waves from their cars but I do witness nice acts almost every day. Don’t get me wrong, the news is riddled with the bad stuff. In a city of over 2.7 million residents there’s bound to be crime and bad people. That’s everywhere.

chicago skyline at night
Final Thoughts and Gratitude

For now I am content. Trauma and anxiety are still daily challenges. That hasn’t changed. The one thing I can say though is I am in a better place than I was two years ago and I am grateful for that. Tell me one thing you are grateful for.

Thanks for reading. Love you all xxooC

Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

New Year’s it’s still ME

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New Year’s Reflection on the Old Me

I’ll say it again, somehow the new year’s brings up all kinds of feelings. New year’s has that way of simultaneously inspiring reflection of the past while planning for the future. And while this is usually a good thing, it can also be traumatizing to some.

First a little background. I grew up in a typical middle income household with both parents. On the surface it looked normal. Scratch a few layers deep and it was horrifyingly not normal. It wasn’t long into my life when I would look at neighborhood friend’s families and see mine was different. Never really being able to put my finger on it but it was there. Like a shining beacon. I was in my early 20’s when I began to realize. My home life taught me to keep my emotions guarded because if I slipped, every thought and word was quickly weaponized and used against me. This made forming relationships difficult in my early adult life.

New Me Version 2.0

I met my husband when we were in our mid-20’s. He also bore scars from his childhood. Together we melded. We worked through them and became a solid foundation for us both. Together we were each other’s refuge. A soothing place of peace because we understood each other. Back then, the new year’s brought happiness and joy. A chance to look forward to what was possible. Now for me that rock and foundation is gone and it’s bringing up all kinds of trauma. Trauma I don’t want to deal with. I want to bury it again and never bring it back out this late in my life. But each day I’m increasingly reminded that as long as I am still here, neglecting my healing isn’t working it’s only hurting.

Once you see personality disorder, it’s impossible to unsee it. I recognized it in my husband. It was all too familiar. Thankfully he was willing to put in the work. He was open to change and saught the help he needed to bring calmness and peace into our lives.

I learned narcacistic behavior early. I used it. Before I knew what I was doing. I think I used it on my own child before I decided the cycle had to be broken. Now, she bears the trauma but hopefully she will some day recover and I’m there for it. I’m there for all of the hard stuff with her. I know I screwed up and I’m not afraid to admit it. My childhood left me severely ill equipped to handle a lot on the parenting front. Hell, there’s a lot I can’t handle about adulting. Because to be honest, no one ever taught me how to be an adult but that’s another article.

The Authentic, Healing Me

So this new year’s has brought up all of my insecurities and trauma. To lessen the pain and begin some healing I’ve made some commitments to myself. Instead of resolutions I’ve made a list of what I want to accomplish this year in my healing. I can count on one hand the people who actually know the real me. I’ve heard we have different versions of ourselves for the different facets of life. Of course there’s a “professional” me, and “private” me although now, my goal is to try to be more authentic in every aspect. I have decided not to try to mold myself to fit any situation again. Only speak my truth and try to truly live.

Simple Goal Setting, It’s ME

To help in achieving this goal, I’ve made a modestly small list of things I want to start doing. Thereby enabling healing, self care, and hopefully begin to let go of some of this pain and trauma I’ve been holding on to. EMDR therapy has taught me how to physically control my anxiety and calm my mind. So the first thing I am committing to this year, is to dedicate at least 3-5 min a day to meditation on happy things. Moments that have happened. I want to live those meditative minutes in gratitude for being able to experience them.

Second, is more activity. I’m not calling it exercise as that is so cliche. Especially when discussing the new year. So I am committing to more walking. That’s it. Pretty easy for now. Lastly is writing. I have felt like I haven’t had time when in all actuality I just got out of the habit. I’ve gotten lazy with the things that bring me joy.

So there it is. Call it my resolutions. I call it my path to healing. Each one has a proven place in my journey. I’ll keep you updated on how it’s going.

What self care/self improvement commitments have you made for 2023? I’d love to hear. Thanks for reading. xxooC

Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Grief in a New Year

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New Year, New Memories

Another holiday season has come. This year will soon be gone and a new year will be here. And just like all the others, 2022 will be a memory. I’ll add it to the memories I’ve made after trauma and loss. Grief in a new year. In this new world I’m forging for myself, I have constant little reminders of loss. I’ve always said we cry for the living. Just recently I was reminded of this.

I was on my way to work, which is where I usually do my talking and crying to those I’ve lost. That’s when the thought reoccurred to me…this was all for ME. Just after Eric left I remember thinking there was no way he would actually leave me. He wouldn’t just abandon me here, alone. Somehow, some way he would communicate. He wasn’t really gone. Now I know that’s part of acceptance and bargaining. It seemed like such a real hope.

Anyway, in that morning crying session, I realized something deep. I am alone. In a bold instant, I knew the crying is for me. I cry for the people I love and aren’t here anymore. I’m crying for MY loss, because I know they are in a better place. Whether they come and visit me, I don’t know. I would like to think so but ultimately I don’t know. I know everyone has different beliefs and faiths regarding death and that’s fine. I’m not here to discuss that. I accept we truly don’t know anything. No matter what one believes the truth is, tears are for the living. An expression of loss. Loss in the lives of those left behind.

my christmas plant grief in a new year

Grief in a New Year

As I was looking through photos from holidays gone by, I kept thinking about the lives gone. I guess because Eric was the first person I’ve lost which I’ve known the longest, I now have a different prospective on life. The question “is this all there is,” kept lingering in my thoughts. I spent 26 years with him. Now there is no more. How profound to realize there are no more photos. There will never be another memory. And as I’ve said before, time just changes and reorders my mind.

In the early days after loss, I remember thinking I would give anything to go back and have just an hour in my old house with my husband, my daughter small again, Lucy on my lap. The feeling was real, I could close my eyes and imagine it, almost touch it. Now as more memories are put between that time and now, the memories are less tangible. That too is loss and makes me sad. I can’t quite get the same feeling or imagine the moment with such preciseness. But as I am learning, this is what time continues to do.

The holidays have a way of bringing many emotions. Joy, peace, sadness, loss, it’s all in there. All wrapped up. Then New Year’s arrives. Then boom. Time changes again and I’m back to face grief in a new year, new circumstances, new memories, and a new time. So to all of you reading this I say to you, take it all in and enjoy the moment. Cry, laugh, scream, or just sit quietly. May you all have a wonderfully blessed 2023. I love you all. xxooC

lucy my cat
eric holding lucy
lucy kissing my nose
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Time. In “quotation marks.”

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“A “Time” for “Home”…

I’ve been increasingly curious about time since my husband left me. I think I was in this “isolated bubble” so to speak. A place where I lived and didn’t observe much around me that didn’t include him. Now I have lived alone. I’ve traveled alone. Something I never really did before. I never wanted to settle down again. Have a place called “home”, because let’s face it, he was everything I ever knew of, that was called a “home.” Now all of that is gone so I have had to put things into different perspectives.

I recently moved. Moved to Chicago, Illinois. I signed a lease. Which was hell for me for anyone who actually knows me. Because I hold an Illinois real estate license and renting is truly “throwing money out the window.” But I needed to plant some kind of “roots.” I accepted a job offer and I needed a place to “stay” for a while. So unfortunately I found a small 600 square foot flat in “the city” which I absolutely adore. If it was a co-op I would definitely buy in, but it isn’t, so I can’t. I signed a lease and I have approximately ten months left before I need to “vacate.”

sunset from my apartment in chicago. time

A time for Planting “Roots?”

Now I’ve never been one to securely “plant roots” unless I was sure I wanted to be there for “a while.” In Kentucky, “before Eric,” I never really lived in one place for more than a year. So I was always ready to “up and move.” Once Eric and I “settled” and we moved to Shelbyville, Ky, it took time before we actually hung stuff on the walls and “made it our own.” We ended up there for 20 years, but that’s another story.

In 2019 when we moved to Normal, Illinois, I was in my house for six months before I hung anything on the walls. The lease here in Chicago is literally for 11 months. It’s a “short term.” I have about ten months left so I consider it a “short stay.” Yet I find myself succumbing to wanting to make this place “a home.” I have no idea where this came from except the fact there has been no “home” for me since Eric left in June of 2020. Nothing felt permanent enough to really call it “home” since then.

“So what is happening” I ask myself? Why am I calling this “home”, and wanting to make it feel “homey?”

The only conclusion I can draw is that I have this instinctual need to now call some place “home.” It has been about two and half years since Eric died. Right then I committed to walk the country to whatever end I wanted. To do whatever “whim” I chose, at that moment. And I did that. But now, I have actually chosen my path, instead of letting the path choose me.

plants in my apartment in chicago. time

“Final Analysis”

I feel like I am on uncharted waters, not knowing where “the wind will take me next.” I am open to whatever presents itself but all of this is new to me. A new time. A new place. Something completely different from what I ever imagined for myself. All I can tell myself is “hold on, the ride is just beginning.”

And so we go. Into what feels like a time distortion. The unfamiliar. “The unknown.” Please comment if you feel any of this too. I want to hear your story!

I love you all. xxooC

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

Get Comfortable with the Uncomfortable

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Comfort was a luxury

We’ve all heard this phrase a lot. “Get comfortable with the uncomfortable.” Whether it be in the professional world or life coaching. I’ve always taken it as a motivational phrase. Somehow though, after losing a significant other, it has taken on a different meaning to me. I haven’t been comfortable with anything since June of 2020. I used to thrive on change, and actually craved it. Now, not so much. Recently, change gives me anxiety I can’t handle well. And I have a lot of changes going on right now.

Before I could just embrace the change and move through it with a level thinking process. Rationalizing all scenarios and choosing the best path forward. Different things are happening in my mind now. I’m realizing the thinking processes are not the same and I don’t know why other than maybe the trauma has reordered things in my mind.

I also think before the trauma, I had come to a point in my life where I was extremely comfortable, even with the uncomfortable. Comfort was a luxury I didn’t know I had. I’ve been around the sun enough times to level up some experience in situations. A whole lot could be thrown at me at once and I could still be comfortable.

Sudden discomfort

I’ve noticed something new over the past few week. It’s all felt a little strange. Just “off” if you will. What I’m realizing is, I don’t have my sounding board. I lost my cheerleader, my best friend. The person I knew I could count on to talk me down. The one who could put some sense of calm in my life. A sense of order and priority. And even though I have others in my life I can turn to, I’ve lost the security of knowing that safe space was always there. That safe space and security is now gone. Forever.

So once again I am washed in grief and I mourn. Not only for the souls missing in my life, but for what they provided to me. Throw in my generalized anxiety disorder for a real sense of discomfort. I’m also missing my comfort cat Lucy. This tiny animal that provided so much peace. She always seemed to know exactly when I needed her touch and purr. She also provided a safe space.

I’m still learning

I’m learning grief isn’t about just the person lost. Grief is also about mourning what was and what would have been. I mourn for 20+ years with souls. Souls which had become my rock, my security, my sense of home. When I was with them, in that space we all once inhabited, I was lifted up from my darkness. My weaknesses were transformed into strengths. Now I have to learn to be all of this for myself. So far the task has not been so easy.

I’m super uncomfortable in the places I’m going in my life right now, but I’m forging ahead. Hopefully one day I can get comfortable again. I just have to learn how to be all of the things I got from my lost loved ones.

Thanks for reading! xxooC

comfortable with the uncomfortable lucy and me
Thoughts and Notes, Uncategorized

Grief Guilt. A Journal Entry

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Grief Guilt Never Really Leaves, Does It?

Grief guilt is a strange thing. Guilt is a stage of the grieving process. It’s also a huge part of complicated grief. Different clinical stages of grief exist also. Just when I think I’m doing better and feeling good about the direction I’m heading, here comes a wave. I get a trigger and I am right back in the grief again. I believe that one is called “recovery grief.” For me, it’s like I know this tragic thing happened. My someone died. I should be sad. But should I be sad forever? Everyone tells me no so what is happening? Grief guilt and recovery guilt is happening. The guilt of feeling good. It never really goes away. It’s always there lurking to lay itself on top of a good feeling or accomplishment.

The Evolution of My Writing

Very few people know I journaled a lot at the beginning of this journey. Journaling saved me and led me to starting this blog. At first I would write the things I wanted to say to him. All of things I wished I could tell him but I couldn’t. Then it evolved into a diary of sorts. A recount of current events. Survivors’ lives moving on in the world. A world he was not no longer a part of. I haven’t written in my journal for some time as my life has taken a curious turn of events I never would have predicted. More on that at a later date but somehow, I’ve journaled less. Especially when I started putting my thoughts here instead.

Just recently after another major life accomplishment, I was guilt stricken again. So to wallow in my guilt even more, I started rereading some of my journal entries. Just to remember him. Just to remind myself this new life of mine is only because he is gone. Though one thing I have begun to learn is just because he is gone does not make my new life any less significant for me. I am still here along with all the people who loved him.

geese swimming on a pond grief guilt

I Don’t Think I’m Alone

Today I wanted to make a journal entry but I thought I would do it here instead of my actual journal. I wanted to do it here, publicly for everyone who if suffering some kind of guilt after losing someone. I am positive I am not alone in what and how I feel. The holidays are coming and they can be a terrible time for those of us dealing with grief. If you are experiencing grief also, know you are not alone. Whether you feel physically or emotionally alone, I’m here to tell you, YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

In the comments section of this blog or online. Wherever my article is posted. Wherever you just read it. I encourage you to acknowledge your loved one who has passed. Please, speak their name and say something to them. It helps me, it may help you also.

Thank you for reading. I love you all xxooC.

My Journal Entry:

November 3, 2022

Hi Love…As I look through your social media as I have so many times before, now more than ever I’m reminded that your life is over. There will never be more pictures. No more events or moments to mark time passing. Our lives are all moving forward at an unbelievably fast pace. The last time with you seems like such a distant memory. I try to recount moments with you but some are fading. I don’t want them to but my mind isn’t the same.

I’ve been and done so many things we talked about and so many things you would have enjoyed doing yourself. I do them in honor of you. I still miss you just as much as I did the day you left. Sometimes when I close my eyes, I still hear your voice. Softly guiding me and giving me words of encouragement. You will always be in my heart. I will carry you with me as my soul walks alone now. Even though we aren’t together and my life is moving on in different directions, I often stop and think of you. What would you be doing at this exact moment. What would we be doing if you were still here. But you are not. And I must go without you. Just know that wherever you are, I still love you.