THE WORD FOR 2020

Love.

That is the word for 2020.

I am sitting here in my livingroom watching the rain softly fall, and hearing jake brakes on the backroad that runs the back end of the Park here at Heron Pointe. Bob drove “big rig” trucks … before and after … I married him; 17 years locally, before he retired 8 years ago. I never got the hang of stick driving (though Bob did try to teach me for years), but I always liked the sound of a big rig throttling down.

Bob with his family in Toutle – this would have been during his 1^st marriage, when he & Gloria were separated - Bob would have been about 20 yo at the time: Bob Sr., Bonnie, Bob Jr. (my Bob), Merry & Kerry. Bob drove big-rig trucks about half of his working life; he learned with his Dad's trucks when he was a pre-teen. 1969

Yesterday morning while grocery shopping at Winco, the lady in front of me was unloading her cart … and already bagging her things as I moved to the end of the conveyor belt to start bagging mine while the rest was being rung up. We got to chatting while bagging, and during the convo I said, “I’ve been bagging groceries for 50 years – and I’m fast; but man! I miss my man jumping in and helping me when I have this much to bag. This year, I’m on my own.” She looked up at me, and said, “Me too. Of course, I’ve been on my own for quite a while – I was widowed in 1996.” 24 years! I said, “It’s hard to come to terms with, isn’t it? It’s a major adjustment. In every way.” She nodded her head, and said, “Yes. You know, it never gets better … it just gets different.”

We could relate.

Her & I.

We understand.

Widowhood: it’s just a word. It can’t adequately be explained to those who don’t feel it/live it/KNOW it.

We talked the same language because we walk the same walk.

She’s 8,760 days into her widow’s walk – I’m just 410 days into my solo loboing.

It doesn’t get better … it just gets different.

Most days I’m okay. Really.

Other days, things are still pretty much disjointed, and I’m flying blind.

Since December 14^th, 2019, I’ve written a lot of words – both on my personal FB Page, and here on my personal Blog – trying to convey how the alteration to my life had changed my life on every level; and to try to put into coherent sentences what walking with Grief every second of every day this past year has been like.

But there really aren’t any words that can adequately explain the unending sense of loss. There are no words to adequately explain the brutal physical and emotional pain that assails a widow. How can one put into words the agonizing pain of heartache with the loss of spouse … coupled with the heartbreak of familial abandonment? Much is made of the deep-rooted traumas and PTS symptoms soldier families and Vets experience: but precious little attention is given to the grieving widow who has literally lost e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g.; and is expected to “soldier up and march forward” with head up and goosey-loosey steps.

I know I am not unique in my experiences.

I have heard my life story from the lips of many of the widows and widowers I have come in contact with over the past 410 days.

It is sad that I find myself taking comfort in knowing I am not alone in what I have come to experience.

It is equally sad that I will never again be that giddily happy in this lifetime – that euphoric feeling of being someone else’s ‘first priority’; of being Queen Bee of my King Bee’s hive is over ... no more 'Honeybee'.

And the changes wrought go even deeper than that. The changes that have come into my life as my husband left it to enjoy Life beyond the clouds; the changes that have come in the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months … and year + 1 month and 14 days as 1 by 1 familial members swarmed around to see what they could walk away with before they dropped out of sight – and out of mind was startling – then became liberating. As familial abandonment took place, and people dropped out of my life, I underwent a catharsis; I have become a different person: my mental and emotional Self changed. I am no longer the person any of them knew before, in my past life.

I no longer accept emotional abuse “for the sake of family cohesiveness”.

I no longer tolerate bullshit “for the sake of family cohesiveness”.

I no longer chase after people “for the sake of family cohesiveness”.

I no longer give takers place in my life.

Bob is no longer here … and everyone else has fallen away: there is no more “family cohesiveness” - not even a pretense like before.

Now, I am operating on focusing on what is best for Moi; and I don’t see that as being selfish.

All my life, as far back as I can remember, I was responsible for everyone else and their happiness.

I liked making Bob happy. And Bob spent his time making sure I was happy too. Family cohesiveness was important to Bob; so, I tried – I went above and beyond to keep the family unit together. At the expense of my own happiness.

But now Bob is no longer here.

And I’m done being everyone else’s whipping boy.

I am making time to be someone else’s Numero Uno: ME. I chose me.

Before Bob, there was only me. Always, only me. While I was sacrificing my childhood, my teen years, and my life to make sure my siblings had a childhood and enjoyed their teens years … no one was concerned about me - not my party hardy mother or my narcissistic siblings.

Only me – I was concerned about me; but I had no time to focus on me.

After Bob, I was focused on Us – making a life with the love of my life and building a home: Bob came with a 4 year old son, and I immediately got pregnant before the Honeymoon week was out. Bob loved me, and was focused on me and my happiness: I was focused on him and the kids – Bob had died twice the first 7 years of our life together, and the kids were growing up: ‘me’ never stood a chance; again, 'me' was shoved aside for the betterment of others. The kids moved into their rebellious teen and angry young adult lives … and grew away from us. Far, faaaaaar away from us. But We still had Us. The kids, because they chose to become Society’s Children, are boomerang missiles … showing up now and then on radar, touching down in our back yard, blowing the hell out of our peacefulness, and dropping off the radar again. Until they needed, or wanted something. This went on for decades. Family was important to Bob, and I liked making Bob happy. Family cohesiveness was important to Bob; so, I tried – I went above and beyond to keep the family unit together. At the expense of my own happiness.

But now Bob is no longer here.

And, at 63 years of age, I’m done being everyone else’s whipping boy.

I am making time to be someone else’s Numero Uno: ME. I chose me.

Before Bob, there was only me. Always, only me – a solo lobo. And now, there is only me again. And I’m okay with that.

I admit though, that I really liked – and enjoyed being Bob’s main priority: I loved Bob all my life, from the time my eyes saw him when I was 10 years old – and he was 17, and didn’t know I existed. It was hard, those first months of widowhood. To be demoted in a heartbeat, and to have my entire world turned upside down and shaken so viciously. It had been a long time (44 years to be exact) since I had had such maleficence aimed at me with such precision. Bob and his love had always protected me from that – Bob knew my background, and made it his life’s purpose to make sure I never had to feel that kind of pain again. Under the umbrella of his love, and loving ministrations, I thrived and flourished. And under the umbrella of Bob’s love I will continue to thrive and flourish.

For the first 10 months of widowhood, I was run ragged with legalities and trying to find some semblance of Bob’s essence in the people and places we knew together. I gave up entirely the first part of November 2019 – there was nothing of Bob in any of those people, or those places. Those people, who could so casually cast me aside, and cruelly try to destroy his character out of bitter sibling rivalries (my sister, Bob’s mother & brother, our children …) never knew Bob at all – they certainly weren’t honoring his memory with their childish and churlish actions and behaviors. It took 10 months for me to finally quit hanging on, and let go; and I truly am enjoying the peace.

I remember the day clearly that I just quit running around like a chicken with its head cut off. After being treated so shamefully, I quit chasing after people, hoping for something they could never give – they can’t love me when they are incapable of loving themselves. I resolved that day to never again allow myself to be placed in a position where my dignity would suffer such a catastrophic blow.

I don’t know exactly where my life is headed … or how to get there, yet. But I’m actively working on it – and my spotty GPS is becoming a little more reliable.

I will build a new life.

I will build a new family nucleolus – it may not be blood of my blood, and bone of my bone … but it will welcome me, it will nourish my soul, and it will help me walk this new life journey I am now forced to walk; and expected to handle confidently.

Now, that I no longer have to be responsible for anyone but myself, I don’t have to “have it all together” all the time: my new life has taught me that it’s okay not to be okay all the time – it’s okay to fall apart, to cry, to get upset, to be vulnerable … and still be strong, courageous, bold, and kickass victorious.

There is only me to bolster now – and I’m okay with myself. I have reverted back to the badass person I was before Bob joined his life with my life: Me, Myself & I are a pretty good team ;-)

And I am learning that love comes in many forms, from many sources. So, now I am receiving and giving love – from and for old and new friends; from and for strangers.

I am loving simply because love is.

I am not talking about, or even referring to romantic love.

I am talking about love in its purity: Big Love, aka.: Agape Love.

But, mostly, I am talking about Love of Life.

Love is full of possibilities.

There are 320 days full of possibilities before me.

I am open to whatever those days hold for me.

I am open to whatever encompasses Love in those 320 days.

I am going to love my life as a solo lobo as I loved my life with my husband – straight on, all in, and full out: wholly, madly, fiercely, completely, and unconditionally. I will love my new life the way my husband loved me in my old life, when he walked with me side by side.

I will diligently work to live a solid life around … and despite … grief that shadows me. I can be loving in all that I do; I am a Christian in spite if being a widow. Bob showed me how to live life with wild abandon and respect for the day present.

Love conquers all – Yeshua said it, and Bob exampled it.

Love.

That is the word for 2020.