So,
since I have been writing for this blog for a number of years now, which I love
doing, there are times when I either:
A: cant
really think of anything new to say or write about without sounding like a
broken record, or
B: get
tired of hearing the sound, or the type, of my own voice and my own
story.
When
that happens, which is the case tody, I prefer to focus on all of you
instead.
I think
it would be kind of fun to ask you all some informal questions, to my widowed
community, so other fellow widowed peeps can see your replies in the comments
and we can all get to know each other a little bit more. I have been asked by
adminstration to please remind you that when you post comments and replies on
this blog, your comments are not anonymous and they are public. So if you dont
want your words posted public, I will not be offended if you choose not to
participate. Its all up to you, 100%. Also, if you dont feel like addressing
all of these widow-related topics below, feel free to only answer five, or two,
or none! Ive done a lot of writing in this blog over the years, and I just
thought it might be kind of fun to hear more of your stories, from your
words.
So,
lets have a conversation:
I look
forward to your replies.
Tell us
the name of your person who died, and how you met.
What
are 3 things that come to mind about your person who died, that you would
really love for people to know about them?
The
3 things that come to mind about my husband, Bob, that I’d really love for
people to know about him is that Bob is love personified – he truly loved
unconditionally and always dealt with people on a 1-to-1 equal status level.
Bob was a natural ‘people piper’ … people flocked to him and just enjoyed being
in his company. Bob was an honest-to-God peacenik:
n.o.t.h.i.n.g.r.a.t.t.l.e.d.h.i.s.c.a.g.e. Nothing.
What
has been the most unexpected or surprisingly hard thing for you, since the
death of your loved one?
The
most unexpected and surprisingly hard thing for me in this, my new life, is the
crying. Openly. Unexpectantly. I can’t control it. I hate crying; crying always
meant vulnerability to me – I never really even cried around Bob. IF I cried
openly, Bob knew I was dealing with something monumental and felt frustratingly
trapped. I am not a girly-girl. I am tough – I am never in situations of
entrapment. But since becoming a widow, the crying happens and I can’t stop it.
I feel trapped by this new life. And I don’t even care anymore if people see my
weakness …
Name
something you have done after the death of your loved one, that you are proud
of. (it can be ANYTHING, and this includes making it through the day.)
I
am proud of the way I have been able to do things solo that I could never – or
would never – do when Bob was still with me in the flesh. I have gone on solo
adventuring drives, reached out to people (never did that before, I am a DIYer), and made friends without Bob (never did that before either - was never aware I COULD attract friends on my own; I am a LOT to handle with or without Bob by my side); I recently crossing the Hoffstat Bridge in the Mount St.
Helen’s area of our home State: this bridge is very looooong and spans about a
2,000 foot deep ravine; when Bob was still present in the flesh, I always
pulled over when we got to it, and said, “If you want to get us to the elk herd
on the other side … you drive from here.” But I recently did that drive on my
own (literally cried with relief & kissed the ground on the other
side. LOL). I swear I could feel Bob smiling with pride and applauding my
victory ;-) Last night I got past another long drive hurdle. I am doing this!
Bob is proud of me.
What is
the greatest thing that loss has taught you?
The
loss of my husband’s physical presence in my life has taught me that life goes
on – and that because his spirit continues to live on, I am always loved and
never truly alone. Bob is still very much alive, and his love still surrounds
me.
What
would you love to tell the general public about grief and loss? What do you
wish they knew or would be more understanding about?
I
would love to tell the general public that grief and loss never goes away: it
subsides, and then comes back in sneaker waves. Unbidden and totally
unexpected; and your world is shaken again. Widows constantly live in a gray
world. It is not something we want: it simply IS. Widows do not immerse themselves
in the gray, but the gray exists and will always exist. We crave color in our
new life, but all the color in our world – which runs parallel to everyone
else’s world – is now muted and has lost its brilliance. We are doing the best
we can to live joyful and vibrant lives in a world that has now lost its
sparkle for us. I am thankful for the people in my life who understand that and
don’t expect more from me than I can give at any given moment, and given day of
any given week of any given year. My husband was my life … and my life has drastically
been altered. My husband colored my world with glorious and unconditional love:
that all ended for me December 14th, 2018 at 8:05 a.m. My life is different
now. The shades of this new life I live now don’t “pop” anymore. People who
know me and knew us, understand that. I don’t have time for those who don’t;
trying to explain to those kind of people drains me, and I don’t need the
energy vampires in my life. Selfish? Maybe. But I make no apologies.
Name
the song that means the most to you and your person who died. If you want, tell
us why.
There
are too many songs that meant a lot to the both of us at different times of our
relationship and marriage! But, I can pick 2: “Happy Together” by The Turtles,
because we were happy together all of our lives – and we couldn’t see us loving
anyone else but ‘me for you & you for me’. And “One Hot Mama” by Trace
Adkins – my husband made that his ring-tone for my number: for 44 years Bob
told me I turned him on and was one hot mama ;-) Even with his last breath. Bob
loved this fat and sassy grandma, who he always looked at with eyes of love and
remembered as his 17 year old young chick bride. LMAO
Have
you picked up any new hobbies, taken on a new career, or done something else
that you would have NEVER predicted you would have done in your "other
life"? Tell us about it. (mine is becoming a Real Estate Agent - SO
RANDOM!!! Don would be like "Huh??? Whered THAT come from???" )
No
new hobbies. No new career. But I am making a new and bold move to another
State, forging a new and bold life with my kids and grandkids who live too
close to the city for my comfort. This is a huge step for a country gal. But,
one I believe Bob would be proud of. I am also stepping out of my comfort zone
when it comes to trusting people with my heart. I am learning to love as Bob
did – unconditionally and whole-heartedly. Trust has always been a big issue in
my life: even with Bob … and I loved him. Bob understood me, and loved me
unconditionally. THAT was his legacy. I am going to do everything in
my power to carry that legacy forward and instill it in our children and
grandchildren.
Have
your thoughts about religion, death in general, or life in general, changed
since your loss?
My
Faith remains the same – Bob was a Christian too: death never scared us. My
thoughts on life is that it goes on, and so do we. Our life is what we make of
it – we can sit in misery … or we can get up and get moving. Movement is
healing. Healing is life-inspiring. Living is how we honor our spouses that
have gone on Home ahead of us. Honoring our spouse is loving ourselves as our
spouse would if they were still her with us in the flesh. I choose life. I
choose Bob’s love all around me. Bob is still my husband; I will honor him.
Now
that you are living it, what comes to mind for you when you think about the
word WIDOW/WIDOWER/WIDOWED?
The
word that comes to mind when I think on the word ‘Widow’ is RESILIENT. I
was always a strong, tough, and adaptable woman; but since becoming a widow, I
have learned to bend in new ways I never thought possible to overcome the most
difficult circumstance and situations of my entire life. And I have learned
that vulnerability can be a strong and sturdy as steel.
