I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Thinking on how much life has changed and continues to change since my husband left. But change can be good right? Once I believed with every ending was a new beginning. Although nowadays, I’m finding that harder and harder to be true. In grief, sometimes endings are just that…endings. Where I am now is not a beginning. But a place I am all too familiar with. A place I left for a reason. So with more change, what happens now?
Maybe my purpose here isn’t finished. At least that’s what I am telling myself today. Maybe, just maybe this is a healing place. When the universe sees I’ve had enough. It sends me back here to reflect and heal. A physical “safe space” so to speak. I’ve never really had that before. I mean, sure with my husband I felt safe and secure. But I was never alone. Nor was I ever experiencing complicated grief. Not the way I am now. Psychiatry.org has some great reference material on grief disorders. Just click if you are interested in learning more.
Back Where I Started
So in that, here’s a quick update. I’ve left Chicago. Chicago will always hold a dear place in my heart and Illinois will always feel like home. I went there and did what I wanted. Something I had always dreamed of. I built a life on my own, for me. I’m leaving proud of what I accomplished and proud of myself.
But my time is over for now. I’m drawn back to Kentucky again. I will make the best of this moment and bask in familiar surroundings until the universe decides I belong somewhere else.
Also I have decided to restart therapy. EMDR (Eye Movement and Desensitization Reprocessing) helped in the beginning. I’m not sure I need that again. While I’m here though, I think I’ll dive into some grief therapy. I’ll let you know how that goes. It’s always been hit or miss but I’m hoping for the best.
If you’re still reading me by now and want to catch up, drop me a message and let’s connect. I look forward to seeing some familiar faces. Love you all and thanks for reading. –xxooC
As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’ve taken the summer off from posting. I did this for a couple of reasons. I wanted to enjoy the summer without the pressure of producing articles. Quite frankly, it was weighing on my mental health.
I’m a perfectionist. It’s both a curse and blessing. If I can’t give 110%, I don’t do it. I couldn’t give my all to writing, so I gave myself permission to take a break. The decision was hard, and my commitment to myself to stick to the break was difficult but well worth it.
Also I’ve been busy. Pouring myself into work seemed to keep me distracted from my inner self turmoil. I was being challenged with balance in my life so somethings had to be put on hold. I have however, been writing in an actual physical journal almost regularly. That is, up until a few weeks ago when I had to make some big life decisions.
More Big Decisions
That’s when something hugely significant happened in my life. My path was diverted again. I was faced with some pretty hard realizations. One was my mental health condition and how it’s affecting my very being. I had to take time to process, and decide how to proceed. Big life decisions aren’t always easy. Some are a no brainer. Some others, not so much. Most of my big life decisions since 2020 have been in reaction to a bigger life event. These recent decisions were a culmination of festering difficulties and problems I can’t just seem to solve without a complete upheaval of the new life I created.
After trauma and experiencing traumatic grief, I think it’s natural to second guess yourself. PTSD can bring forth many uncertain feelings to just about everything. Personally, I question and doubt myself regularly now. I never did much before. Ultimately, I have to make the choices that benefit not only myself, but the ones’ I love as well. I also feel I have to honor my late husband. In that, I know I have made the right choices for my immediate future.
New Directions
So as the summer ends, so does another chapter in my life. With every ending comes a new beginning. Just as in any grief journey, a new beginning isn’t always a step forward. But it’s a necessary transition nonetheless. I am about to embark on a path I must take and see it through until the end, whatever outcome that may entail. At this point the path forward is completely unknown. I keep saying “I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”
For Now…
I’ve realized something else over the past year. Mentally and emotionally, I am no where near the person I was before 2020 and I never will be again. The pandemic has left a lasting impact on our very existence. So does the death of a loved one. In some ways I’ve become calloused to words that I hear and words that I say. But never the emotions. They are all still there just tucked away. Sometimes they slip out. Sometimes I let them out. And just like that, the huge big tidal wave of grief washes over me again.
Big life decisions can come with big consequences and big rewards. I’m banking on the big rewards because as I’ve said before, and I think this is my motto now- only when you’ve lost everything is anything possible.
Oh hey, hi there…I know it’s been a while. Thanks for sticking with me and keeping up with the little bit I’ve put out this summer. It’s been a struggle to sit down and actually focus. This time away from blogging has been an internal challenge for me in so many ways but I won’t go into that here. The topic I want to talk about is mental health and depression. While I have my own battles, I’ve met many others that do as well. For those of you just reading, here is a little background on me. I was diagnosed with PTSD and GAD after my husband died in June of 2020. (click the links to learn/read more.) It’s been a rollercoaster of a ride to say the least.
Before the Grief Trauma
But before all of this, I suffered from severe depression in my late teens and early to mid twenties. I wasn’t quite aware of mental health issues and I had no idea what was happening to me. I had started seeing a very good therapist years before. Not once was depression ever mentioned to me.
Then, all of a sudden, one day I just didn’t want to get out of bed anymore. It was like I just didn’t want to function. Thinking was difficult. I went to work, came home and slept. Woke up, then I went to work, came home and slept. Some days I didn’t make it to work. Fortunately I did not lose my job. I struggled daily not knowing what was going on with me. I couldn’t figure out why my mind and body were betraying me.
Finally as my life spiraled out of control at 24, I became pregnant with my daughter. Then somehow, miraculously, I was cured. I’ve read about pregnancy altering the chemical makeup of one’s brain… but BAM! It really happened to me. I never sunk into any type of deep depression again.
Trauma and Depression, the Difference
Fast forward to after my husband died. Shortly after my trauma, my family had an intervention. I found myself sitting in my doctor’s office. He told me I was “depressed.” I’m told him, “I’m confused, I want to die. I have no will to live. I can’t handle this trauma.” And of course for my treatment, I was prescribed anti-depressants. Which I took. For a while. I was desperate.
They did lighten my mood. They did not take away my thoughts and feelings of grief, despair, sadness, or any of the feelings of losing someone close to you. What the pills succeeded in doing, is buying me some time in not feeling too much of anything. Which was kind of a momentary relief.
Normalizing Talking About Feelings
I’m telling you this because these feelings haven’t really gone away. What takes the place of it all is learning how to cope and learn to look normal on the outside. That’s right, I’ve been faking it. I even fool myself most of the time. But as soon as I start to believe it all, the charade comes tumbling down and the wave hits me again. I’m saying this because I believe it’s so important to normalize talking about how we feel in order to prioritize mental health.
I’ve found finding the right words and having the courage to discuss it extremely hard. In a way, I don’t want to appear weak and not in control of myself. I always went over the conversations in my head beforehand, I found myself asking, how will someone see me after I confess this? The stigma is real.
However, while working here in this lovely city with the most amazing people, I have had quite a few instances that have reminded me why I came here. I came here to find me. The me without him. Rebuilding has been difficult but I’ve survived. Maybe even thrived a little. I’ve learned a lot over the past 10 months, about myself and what I’m capable of.
Learning the Lessons
I’ve been fortunate to come back to a company that understands and also prioritizes mental and physical health. Only with the help of everyone around me up here, have I learned the lessons I was sent here to learn. I’m here to tell you all of you have it in you also. The capability to learn about yourself and move in a forward direction.
Ultimately it’s not about will, and it’s not about finding something you’re passionate about. Everything in life can be going great, but mental health has to be a priority. Even if you’ve never had a traumatic event, prioritizing mental health is so important. In that, it’s accepting one day, one minute at a time.
For me, it’s learning to live. Maybe even love again. This time away has nurtured my inner child. I’ve done things that make me happy. Beginning to dream again. And most of all, it’s about finding gratitude. Being grateful for what I have. I sometimes don’t realize how fortunate I am. I’m trying to get back to that.
What does prioritizing mental health look like to you?
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.
I’m sitting here watching a thunderstorm roll in. One of the subtle things I love most in this world. The smell of rain. The calm before the storm. Quick flashes of lightening and a glimpse of what’s coming. We never really know what’s coming though. Every moment, every day. Although it may be routine, somehow someway, something unexpected always pops up. This story is about the things I’ve said that really surprised me when I hear the words come from my mouth.
I had a conversation with another widow today. Her story was like others I had heard. Her husband died because of an illness. His death wasn’t quick. He didn’t want to leave and his leaving was devastating. They had been married a very long time. And in this conversation I had another revelation.
The things I’ve said since Eric left that I never thought would ever escape my lips. I’m speaking of the words I never thought I would ever say pre-trauma. I’m still surprised when something like “my husband died” rolls off my tongue. Another is “my life now after my husband passed.” Still the one that always stuns me is “now that I am single.”
What Still Surprises Me
I never thought I would be single again. That title eluded me for a long time. I was very reluctant to take it until it was forced upon me. Taxes and the IRS are to blame but I took it anyway. Now I bare it like a sign, or a badge. My heart will never be single. He will always dwell there, inside my soul even though outside we are no longer a couple.
This widow I spoke to today has been 12 years a widow and like me, she is choosing her own path. We didn’t speak about what her life was right after. But I felt we shared some commonalities. The pain in her eyes was still there and when she said “I’m 12 years, you are still new” I knew then, she had a perspective so I rebutted “time really doesn’t matter” to which she responded “no, it doesn’t.”
Time. Friend or Foe?
That right there. That was the moment that solidified everything I’ve thought up until now. Time does not heal all wounds, it just masks and allows us to cope better. Time allows experience to learn how to not say the things I think. So far, it’s taught me to hide everything inside better. Time allows me the learning to keep buried what needs to be and to be able to function in society again.
Right after Eric died, I spoke to a dear friend I used to work with. She too lost her husband suddenly to an accident two years prior. They are both young. She said to me “girl, it’s hard.” At the time I didn’t know what that meant. I do now. It is hard. It will always be hard. Coping, existing, living past the death and trauma of losing a life partner is hard. It’s a different kind of loss. Hard is the beginning, middle, and will ultimately be the end.
I realized after I published Part 1 of “What to expect when you ARE in mourning“, I left a few things out. Although I did touch on some physical expectations, I completely missed the massive emotional and mental aspect. So here is Part II. I’m calling this one What NOT to expect when you are in mourning.
The Mental Part
The first thing I can tell you not to expect, is to be the same person again. Ever. There are moments in one’s life that completely change and define you. Losing someone close is one of those moments. The closer the soul, the more of a marker in time a death becomes. There is only before and after.
Second, do not expect to make rational decisions. My thought process was completely driven by the intense emotions I was feeling. I definitely wasn’t clear headed. Nothing meant anything to me and material possessions from a life I no longer had were worthless. I got rid of almost all possessions in one way or another. I don’t recommend doing so alone. This decision turned out alright for my situation but again. I don’t recommend it for the first year.
The Emotional Part
Thirdly, emotions were uncontrollable for a while. I did not expect this and I couldn’t hide them. I’ve gotten better though. But for what seemed like a long while, they quickly went from rage, to sadness, to indifference all within a short span of time. I felt stunned most of the time. Disbelief and confusion filled in the rest. I remember saying I know it happened, but I just can’t believe it happened.
The next thing I didn’t expect was the desparate longing that kicks in. Along with the emptiness. I believe this is part of the bargaining stage. Desparation to have just one more moment of that perfect peace with your loved one still with you. It’s there, you can almost grasp it. But the peace is never within reach. Don’t expect to ever fill the void your loved one left. This is the one feeling time will never heal. This feeling creeps in again. And again. And again. When it’s least expected. Triggered over a thought, a memory, a gesture. This is the wave that’s often talked about. The tidal wave of grief.
The Physical Part
Finally, don’t expect grief and mourning to just be emotional. I wasn’t prepared for the physical manifestations that came along. The side effects of grief and in my case, sudden loss. The pain is intense. Deep physical pain that never really goes away. Time just teaches how to mask it better. My energy level declined. I don’t think it will ever be what it was but I am finding ways to cope.
Last but certainly not least, I’m going to speak strictly about widowhood. Don’t expect your life to resemble anything close to what it did before. Ever. Widowhood changes everything. From self care, to the way I eat. The biggest realization was that I was alone in taking care of myself. I lost the comfort in those intimate life moments. The ones when I had someone there. Always knowing where I was. The constant daily conversations. Gave way to a huge, hollow void.
The Opportunity That Awaits
In the end of the list, of what not to expect while mourning. I would like to leave you with a message of hope. For in my grief I see possibility. In what’s left of my life now, I see opportunity. Opportunity I never would have thought possible. Because in all of my loss, came a freedom. I am free to do things I would have never done before.
My final words are…don’t expect good things NOT to happen. When I lost everything, anything seemed possible. With all of the mental and physical scars I still had to live each day. And only I could determine how that day would be. My therapist said the most profound words that stuck with me, even today. “The only one stopping you, is you.” So I leave you with this, take a chance. Do one thing you have always wanted to do whether it be by yourself or with someone else. I know it’s scary. Just do it. You’ll thank me later.
If you haven’t lost someone significant, then this article isn’t for you. If you have, then you may be familiar with what I’m about to talk about. It’s all of the things that are not discussed in daily life, but exist in the world of someone mourning. Let’s get real about mourning and grief. Let’s talk about what to expect when grieving the loss of someone you loved.
I’m going to start with relationships. What to expect first is, most people around you including friends and family simply will not understand. Some may think they do, but they don’t. Unless one has lost the same relationship, no one gets what you feel. No one will empathize with you and very few will know what is appropriate to say or do. The few that will, well they will ultimately be your tribe but I’ll get to that in a minute.
Second, there are so many rituals that go along with death. What to expect, and what happens in a post-covid world are completely different things. Nothing is right or wrong and everyone deserves the right to choose what is best for them and their loved ones. Especially when it pertains to end of life choices and decisions. Don’t just go along with someone elses expectations. Do what feels right for you and don’t worry about pleasing anyone else, no matter who says what.
Other things about what to expect
Third, most of those around you do not have your best interests in mind. They only have theirs. It’s really hard to tell because intentions may be good but these people, family, and loved ones may not be good for you. And this is a problem because discerning what is real and what is false is super hard when you can’t think straight. So my advise is to surround yourself with people you completely trust. If there is a hint of something crazy, cut them off. It’s okay to put a relationship on hold and reconnect when able. You’ll be glad you did.
Fourth, don’t have regret. In mourning and grief one clearly can’t think straight. It all takes time. How much time? Well, that’s a very individual answer as well. Each person moves through grief differently because of a number of factors. So tread lightly, don’t make any decisions you don’t have to, and wait until you feel better both mentally and physically. Hint…your people will be there for you with no questions asked. They won’t have alterior motives and they will only be there to assist. Not for “what’s in it for them” or to make themselves the star of the show. As I said before, these are your inner circle. They will be your life line and your comfort.
And a few more things
Fifth, you will suffer physically. In ways you can’t even imagine. The stress and discomfort from grieving will touch your very soul and manifest in physical ways. Listen to your body and be aware. Slow down when you need to. Draw boundaries when appropriate. Rest when you can.
Sixth and final thought. Don’t do anything that doesn’t feel right. If it all feels wrong, it probably is. Go with your gut because that’s all you have. Don’t trust anything just because you should. Finally, it’s okay to draw boundaries and postpone anything and/or EVERYTHING until you feel you can deal.
One last thought
That’s it. These are the things I wished I had known going into my experience with grief. The things no one talks about but everyone who has been through it knows quite well. No one can prepare you for your grief journey. Everyone is different and every journey is unique. What we can do is to find support and support each other.
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.
I often go back through photos to remind myself what I was doing a year or two years ago. Widow brain and brain fog is a real thing. Settling down to one place for a while has me reminiscing more than I ever have since Eric left. Managing to amass so many pictures of places I’ve been and things I’ve done seems overwhelming sometimes. I do miss traveling. There was a sense of calm just being alone on the road.
Many times I’ve heard about widow brain and brain fog. From what I’ve read, it typically lasts up to a year. Mine has lasted much longer due in part to experiencing complicated grief and PTSD. But what exactly are these things? Brain fog is a result of the grief trauma. The mind simply can not process what has happened. And while the symptoms may have commonalities, each individual is different and will have different experiences. This results in mental and physical unintended side effects of grief. As the brain processes and tries to heal, widow brain can result. For me, it’s like walking around in a daze sometimes. I was unable to process time. Mostly living in the moment, I lacked the ability to think very far ahead in terms of weeks, days, or even hours sometimes.
The Traveling Fog
I decided to spend my fog in happy places. My body was in the most beautiful settings yet mind wasn’t there. I’m finding it harder and harder to really remember what I was doing but I definitely remember how I felt. Mostly empty. Searching. Confused. Fortunately I had my people along the way that helped save me. Now I see from what. From myself.
Looking at photos gives me so many mixed emotions. Sometimes I am sad that I can’t remember the moment better. Disappointed I couldn’t have lived in them just a bit longer. More grief because that moment in time is gone and either I didn’t appreciate it enough, or I just existed there. Other feelings are exitement I experienced this space. Grateful for the people I was able to experience it with. Thankful I could even go at all.
Coming Out of The Fog?
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned over the past two and half years is that I am resilient. I didn’t know I was but I guess still being here and healing is a reflection of that. Inside, I’m starting to put everything together slowly. Time doesn’t stop. My mind will never completely heal though. On the outside I may have my shit together but inside, I’m still a grieving mess. I’ve come to terms that I always will be even though coping may get a little easier.
Somehow I get a daily reminder of this. Working has been challenging. Some days I’m just not up to the mental task. Sometimes simply coping with increased anxiety becomes so terrifyingly overwhelming. I take moments to pull my mind together. Especially when I have multiple tasks with a deadline to meet. I have to remind myself I am not the overachiever I used to be. Just doing my best has to be good enough because at the end of the day, a job is what I do. A job is not who I am. My sanity is worth more. Taking time to take care for myself has become so very important.
I don’t think I realized that by traveling and taking the “me” time, I was taking care of myself. Now I have to find other ways. What are some ways you take care of yourself, either mentally or physically?
I’ve been staring at a blank screen for a couple of hours now. I’m not sure why I’m having such a hard time starting this article. My late husband’s ashes rest in many places I’ve visited in the two and half years since he left. I expected the ceremonial process and writing about it would get easier. However, talking about leaving more of his ashes is harder than I expected this time around. Recently, a lot of internal wounds have opened up. My recent experience was extra salt for the already existing proverbial wound. In preparation I think I switched myself “off” during the event. I expected to process all the feels later. Now emotions overwhelm me.
So I added another place to the growing list my husband now rests. Leaving more of him this time has extra special meaning. Anyone who knew him knows how much he loved Kentucky basketball. Ironically, I have to tell this story. For a new role at work, he signed up to take Dale Carnegie classes in Peoria in the Fall of 2019. These classes changed his life but I remember he looked troubled after one particular class. I asked what was on his mind. Our conversation went much like; the class was given an assignment. The assignment was an oral arguement. He had no idea what to argue as he didn’t feel passionate enough about anything. I replied quickly that his argument should be how UK has the best basketball program and team. He smiled and that’s what he did. It was a success.
Honored to do this with one of Eric’s bestfriends. They visited Rupp together on many occasions.
Why Here was Different
Now, when the opportunity to go to Rupp Arena and put some of him there presented itself, I knew I had to do it. It felt right. Part of him should be in a place he loved so much and was a huge fan. But leaving more of him in a place he visited frequently was much different than most of the places before. The last place I left him was on his favorite golf course and the lake behind it. That was super emotional also. Rupp was different though and I couldn’t quite figure it out until now.
A week later, I’ve discovered something new. These two places are moments in time where he existed and was the happiest. His energy lives on in these spaces. In these moments and these spaces, leaving more of him has touched something in the universe that resonates with his very being.
I’m reminded of EDC 2019. Our last year attending this festival together in Las Vegas. The theme was “Kinetic Energy” and Bill Nye introduced, and performed the opening ceremony. He talks about how moving with lots of people in unison and creating kinetic energy together changes the brain. The energy makes us happy. So there is some science to it all.
This spreading of ashes was not a memorial of sorts but an honoring of his existence. An honoring of Eric being happy, in these spaces. And that was my lesson. I’ve had two very different types of spreadings. Ones for me, and ones for him. This one was for both. Rest in peace my love.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
