Punch drunk...

"There are people who make things happen, people who watch things happen, and people who don’t know what the hell happened".- Unknown


Usually I’m one who makes things happen. Today, I don’t know what the hell happened.

It really all started yesterday evening. Maybe it was because I had been with the girls all weekend and was feeling worn out. They had been sick and had grossness coming out both ends for three days straight. More likely, it was grief that I have put on the back burner letting me know that it has not forgotten about me, though I would like to forget about it.

Yesterday I started having a feeling of dread come over me. Not sadness or despair or anger. Not loathing or melancholy. Just dread. I couldn’t really pinpoint what it was all about until tonight.

A series of small setbacks happened today that under normal circumstances would’ve been easy to deal with. But today for some reason they all seemed overwhelming and insurmountable, and underneath it all was a sense of dread. As is my usual custom, when I start feeling deep emotions I turn inward and pull away from others. The new guy noticed right away- long before I even acknowledged to myself that something was going on. As is normally the case with a new relationship we went down a path of wrong assumptions and miscommunications. I continued to pull inward instead of just saying what was on my mind, which is that the one year anniversary is around the corner and I flat out don’t want to deal with it. I feel like I need 6 more months if I’m being honest- this year has gone by so very fast.

He felt more and more edged out and didn’t know why. I was trying to spare his feelings and not harp on my issues over my dead husband. Which only backfired, leaving him feeling left out and me feeling confused about how my consideration for his feelings was the wrong thing to do. Sometimes I feel like the deck is stacked against us; we are in a new relationship at the hard part where you are learning each other’s idiosyncrasies and communications styles, then add to that the fact that we live 300 miles away and only see each other occasionally (not exactly how a normal relationship develops), then top it off with the grief monster. So while all of this was rolling around in my overly analytical and apprehensive brain, I got a call from my mom. She’s been having hip pain that won’t go away. She was on her way to get an x-ray today since the medication they’ve given her hasn’t helped. I got off the phone with her and immediately went into doom and gloom panic mode. I was sure she had bone cancer and was going to die. I was even picturing how the phone call would go in which she would tell me that things looked bad. Crazy, I know. She called me when it was done and said they want to do an MRI to look more closely but it does not appear to be anything serious, or at least life threatening. Then some irritating things happened at work that only added to my work load, and bothered me on a level it never would’ve if I wasn’t already worked up.

So there I sat trying to finish up my work for the school year, ruminating on where I went wrong with the new guy (despite the fact that we had managed to get back on the same page), if my mom was gonna die, and how I was ever going to finish the work I should be focusing on when they just added to my plate. And down the spiral went…dread was closing in big time.

The kicker of the day was that I had to leave work and go straight to a meeting to finalize plans for the 5k in honor of Andie. Ever since yesterday when this first started creeping into my psyche, all I can think is “Why did I sign up for this?” And that’s where the dread started. I’m feeling like I don’t want a yearly reminder that requires months of planning ahead of time…I’ve worked myself into a situation that will require that I devote a couple of months a year before the anniversary to thinking about him. I should’ve left well enough alone and just had to deal with the one day of the anniversary. Way to go, overachiever! Lately I’ve had the overwhelming sense that I just want to move on. I want to shut the door on this old life in a way and start over. I want to run away from the pain. Not very brave of me, and not very strong- but it’s the honest truth. I’m just so tired of having his death be the focus of my life. It feels so heavy all of the time and I want to cast it off.

I walked in the door 11 hours after leaving my house this morning feeling drained, obliterated, and incoherent. I felt emotionally exhausted and couldn’t really do more than sit on the porch in a stupor while the girls played.

And that’s when all of this finally came together in a flash of insight.
I finally saw how I got from point A yesterday evening: dread
To point B tonight: punch drunk*
Maybe I can sleep it off…


*punch-drunk
adj.
1. Showing signs of brain damage caused by repeated blows to the head. Used especially of a boxer.
2. Behaving in a bewildered, confused, or dazed manner.

Quiet mind...

“Go in all simplicity; do not be anxious to win a quiet mind, and it will be all the quieter. Do not examine so closely into the progress of your soul. Do not crave so much to be perfect, but let your spiritual life be formed by your duties, and by the actions which are called forth by circumstances. Do not take over much thought for tomorrow. God, who has led you safely on so far, will lead you on to the end.” - Francis De Sales

I love this quote because now more than I ever I feel like my life and the decisions I have to make are the product of circumstance. This is certainly not how I planned my life. And it surely is not how I could’ve ever imagined it. But it is my life, the only one I have, so I must take it as it comes and make decisions based on the hand I’ve been dealt. And I must believe that God has a greater plan that I just can’t understand at this point.

I know it will be a difficult process as I continue to walk the fine line between being excited about someone new, while still actively mourning the loss of Andie. I am not naïve enough to think that my grieving is done. I am not “over it” and I have not “moved on”.

It has been a struggle to decide when I should let the world in on the fact that I am seeing someone. I didn’t want to make the announcement too soon only to find that this relationship would fizzle out and I’d then have to face all the ensuing questions. I didn’t want to keep it a secret as though it was something to be ashamed of, but at the same time I needed to feel secure before I announced such a momentous step.

And while I have had a couple of months to adjust to the idea and process my feelings about it, those who are just now learning of him are still shocked and surprised. Which only makes my comfort with it all the more awkward. I think they expect me to not be ready so soon, but I’ve done a lot of emotional leg work to get to this point. I've simply had a head start.

I am sensitive to the feelings of those who are still hurting, and who are not ready to see me “move on” with my life. I understand that Andie’s family and close friends will have a harder time accepting this than my own family and friends. I know it will take time for people to get to a place of acceptance.

I know that people ultimately want me to be happy. Many have said as much to me on several occasions. In the weeks after his death people told me that it was okay to eventually move on. But saying that, and actually being okay with it when it happens are two very different things. I think people have been okay with the idea of it, but when they actually see another man beside me they have almost a gut level reaction to it. I can see it in the subtle shifts of facial expression or body language. It seems that people are okay with the idea of it if it fits their version of how it should go and when, and not necessarily my version of it.

I have grappled with the idea of moving on for almost a year now. Mainly because people would often say to me that they knew I would find someone new one day. My own father in-law has had this discussion with me at least three times that I can remember. I almost felt a pressure about it in the early months after his death and it made me angry and indignant. But with time I have come to accept that this is in fact what I want for me and for my children. And it is also, I believe, something that Andie would want.

This is a hard position for me to be in. Wanting to be happy and being okay with this transition for myself, but also understanding that others are not yet ready for me to make this transition. However, what most people cannot even begin to fathom is the emotional work I have done to get to this point. It is I who has had to live every second of every day without him. I am the one who has two beautiful, yet constant reminders running around that look just like him, reminding me that he is not here. I am the one who remembers what it was like to have his face be the first thing I saw every morning, and the last thing I saw every night. Nobody else has had to deal with his absence on such a global level. Nobody else’s life was changed with such magnitude. Most people get the emotional reprieve of going on about their own lives in their own schedules, which allows them to feel some normalcy. I have not had that luxury; nothing about my life has stayed the same. Nothing is as it was. And nothing feels normal. It has been a long, hard, process to get to this point.

He still consumes my thoughts for much of the day, albeit in a different way than before. Now it is often with fond memories. Sometimes I talk to him in my mind, imagining how he would guide me in daily decisions. It is rarely with pain that I remember him anymore. I would venture to say that to most people though, he is only a fleeting thought. He probably does not cross the minds of his friends daily anymore; only when something happens that triggers a memory for them. I can tell that me and the girls are not on people’s minds as much by the drastic slow down in contact from others checking on us. And this is okay. It means that everyone is healing, and everyone is moving on…just at a different pace.

The bottom line is that I have to do what feels right in my heart. What makes me happy, content, and fulfilled. I have to move on with my life in a way that gives me a quiet mind. Worrying about what other people think of my actions only increases my anxiety and apprehension. And letting go of the control feels so freeing. This is a new part of me that has emerged through this experience. A more mature part of me, and I like it. I don’t have to control everything in my life, and I don’t have to have it all planned out. Controlling comes from a place of fear. I don’t want to live my life in fear. I want to appreciate what I have while it’s here instead of always planning for the worst case scenario.

The circumstances of my life have drastically altered who I am, who I want to be, and where I want my life to go. I am giving it all up to God with faith that he will lead me in the right direction in the end.

Leap of faith...

"Sometimes you just have to take the leap and build your wings on the way down" - Unknown


There is a wonderful new blessing to my life. Someone who through fate, timing, answered prayers, or maybe just dumb luck eased his way into my life over the past couple of months.

First through emails, then through texting, followed by phone calls and visits…never pushing past my comfort level. Letting me move at my own pace, but standing by all the while ready to walk this journey beside me. Allowing the connection to grow and evolve on its own. Slowing down to allow me to catch up if he got a step ahead of me. He has stepped aside to give me time and space as I need it…never selfish in his pursuit.

He is honest and respectful. Understanding and reassuring. Strong and confident. Gentle and kind. Caring and insightful. Interesting and intelligent. Protective and accepting. And above all, he is patient with me and this convoluted process.

He inspires, motivates, and challenges me to be a better person. He pushes me to let go and just trust in him, believe in the possibility of us, and have faith in God.

He is the answer to the repetitive prayer I’ve prayed: For God to allow my heart to be open, and accepting of whatever or whomever He puts in my path. For me to trust that if love walks into my life I can accept its presence with grace and dignity.

I have to admit that when I have heard stories of other widows who have moved on there was always a sense of judgment on my part. How could they move on so soon- how soon is too soon? How could they proclaim to still love their dead husband, but still have enough room in their heart to love another? I couldn’t understand how that could even be possible. There was also a sense of jealousy that they had gotten lucky enough to find love again; I did not think that would ever be possible for me. But once you start down this road the issue becomes, how do you continue to hold the love in your heart for your husband while making room for new love to grow there too? I’ve found it’s like having more than one child- your heart expands to fit the need. How do you incorporate who you were then, with who you are becoming? How do you integrate your old life with your new life? I don’t have the answers to these questions. These are still challenges I must face and I realize they will continue to be for some time…

I never imagined that I would be in the very position that I had scoffed at. I couldn’t fathom that I could ever let go of my pain, or that I would ever even want to let go of the pain long enough to find happiness. After all, holding onto the pain has been all there was to hold on to. And I think that’s why this worked. He eased his way into my life ever so gently that I didn’t even know he was beginning to take up residence in my heart until it was too late to deny it.

I am on the precipice of something exciting and grand. I’m ready to take the leap of faith and see where I land and where this experience takes me. My perspective has shifted again and I find myself back in the place of believing that there is a power greater than us that guides us in the right direction even when the fog is too dense to see through it. I am acknowledging that I don’t have all the answers to how my life is going to work out, nor am I supposed to.

I’m learning to enjoy it one moment at a time. To take things at face value without questioning or analyzing them to the point that I destroy them or push them away. I’m learning to let go. To surrender the control and accept that it’s out of my hands…I’m learning to place the responsibility on the shoulders of someone much grander than I.

In my journey to find happiness…I am finding peace in my heart.
In my journey to find comfort…I am experiencing a calm stillness within.
In my journey to find love…I am opening my heart and allowing myself to take a risk.

Here I stand, humbly accepting that the universe indeed has more to offer me than I ever thought possible…