Here I am Again

August 1, 2023 at 2:39 pm (Uncategorized)
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Whenever I log on to WordPress with a blog post in mind, I wonder why I don’t come here more often. And yet today, I am here with nothing particularly in mind that I want to say. While looking for a blank notebook in order to start a story, I ran across some early notes I wrote early on in my career as a widow. I did a lot of journaling right after TT died. So much so, that I am building it into a book that I may or may not publish. It’s likely that I will jump into the deep end once I have it all into a formatted manuscript. Something tells me that it might help another widow along her journey. Other’s may run away from me, clutching a bulb of garlic to their chest. Who knows?

Anyway, there were some interesting little notes in the notebook I decided to pillage. Not many pages were used, so I tore them out. Some of the notes are here. They came to me from who knows where. If anyone is offended by any of these aphorisms, I am afraid I will not apologize, except to say these were my truths. You are welcome to your own.

Comparison is the thief of joy. – Mark Twain

The grief journey is not a competition. Stop comparing your grief to another’s.

Disappointment is the offspring of expectation.

Just breathe. Sometimes it is the only thing to do. Sometimes it’s the only thing we CAN do.

Stop blaming others for your pain.

You’re grieving, so everything is going to hurt. There is no need to be angry at everyone’s attempt to comfort you or help you. Forgive them. They don’t understand the depth of your pain. How could they? Have they experienced your loss?

Your family and friends have lost someone they love, too. Talk about your beloved. It helps everyone.

You do not have dibs on tears or heartache.

Being a widow (or widower) is not permission to be mean or rude.

Let your tears flow without shame.

Eat vegetables, fruit, and good quality protein.

Cheese is comfort.

Don’t make any big decisions for a year.

If you need to sleep, then sleep. Make this a practice for the rest of your life.

We are not a special as we think we are.

If you can’t adopt a pet, try a houseplant. The point is to care for another living thing.

Join a grief support group or two.

Forget the dogma.

Wasted days are not really wasted, so ditch the guilt.

Who am I without TT?

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Journaling Group

March 29, 2021 at 12:21 pm (Uncategorized)
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I participate in two women’s journaling groups. We meet via Zoom and will continue to do so, I’m sure, until the “All Clear” is sounded by the powers that be. At first, I went along with the switchover to Zoom because virtually meeting beats not meeting. I didn’t have high hopes for what might flow onto the paper, but somehow the energy has made it through the airwaves. One of the things I like about the groups is that we have prompts. I like writing to prompts.

The one I chose the other day was about what urgent questions do I need to ask. This is what came from my pen.

**

The question I don’t dare ask is “What Next” because the Universe is always happy to oblige with an answer to that question, and for the last decade, the answers to “What Next” have been enough to send me running down the street, hands in the air, screaming, like that poor little Vietnamese girl after her village was mistakenly napalmed. So, “What Next” is off my list of urgent questions.

I want to ask, “Why” but my “Whys” are not of a historical or scientific nature. My “Why” questions are usually met with an utterance like, “How many times do I have to tell you, your life is on a need to know basis, and the answer to “Why” is above your paygrade.

“Why” is revealed in retrospect.

I ask “When” and all I get is “When you’re ready”. So, I ask when will I be ready? And the answer is you’ll know you’re ready when it happens. Round and round we go, God and me. (Sighs loudly here and takes another sip of coffee)

“Who?” “Who comes with when,” says the Sage.

So, my only other urgent question is “How”. How am I going to make it through the rest of my days?

Widowhood is not for the faint of heart.

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