Widowhood has taken me on a trip I never expected. The highest of highs, and lows that seemed subterranean, with ghosts and goblins scarier than giant wolf bats with grizzly teeth. A haunted house freak show, with surprises around every corner. A distorted carnival mirror of life showed me things in wavy form, making it difficult to discern what might be real and what imagined. And yet, I made my way through the last year growing into this beautiful woman, more sure of my steps every day.
My words, I held dearly. For my new readers in all the far away places I’ve only read about, I chose a word a month. These were my life rafts as currents of days and weeks carried me forward. I was an unwilling traveler at times, just wanting to lay down in some leaves and forget about it all. Time had other ideas. These monthly words helped me identify what was real and necessary for healing.
1.Food, Shelter, Clothing
2.Friendship
3.Love Everlasting
4.Adventure
5.Faith
6.Happiness
7.Truth
8.Aloha
9.Rejoice
10.Respect
11.Optimism
When grief attacked my soul, the monthly word would give me focus on the parts of VST and I that were so precious and buoyant. Those words lifted me above snapping alligators and howling coyotes. They held me close to VST’s heart and the life we created as two child-rich but penniless kids in the winter of 1988. They helped me remember what my core values are made of and what VST helped me cherish in life. They healed me from the inside out.
No one can really understand what grief in solitude is like. When I moved to my sweet little town, there were those that made reference to the reputation of the place. A truck stop. A wide place in the road. A haven for addicts. Less than desirable location. My little town had a reputation she just couldn’t live down in the minds of those that had never given her a chance. I moved here and fell in love with every little scar. Every little wind storm. Every tumble weed or broken down mobile home. For, she and I are a lot alike. We’ve been through some stuff, yet we are survivors.
Now, the scariest part of the journey begins, because a year ago, my sweet VST became suddenly ill. I look back at my calendar and weep. His first test was last year on Valentine’s Day. Even then, the doctor was ruling out heart disease, and not the true monster that was cancer. I look at the words on my calendar and can see a difference in the handwriting. I remember the confusion overtaking our lives when VST was losing his mind. Those memories combined with the date on the calendar, one year later, produce a venom that is sadness X a million, and that is grief. That is now. “One Year Ago” is in the next room, waiting. April 8, 2021.
These monthly words are now all around me, and I have a comfy raft of them. I can lay back and bob along when raging rivers come while focusing on the stars. The best of memories that are US, cradle me while covering me from the cold. I’ll make it through, I just might shiver a little in the process.
These words are also doing something else. These are qualities I’ll not live without in my life. As I surround myself with new friends, I find those words are descriptors of the quality of friends I select. Overflowing, they will be abundant in the last chapter of my life. I’m choosing to make that so, with God’s help. When you combine all of them, you find true paradise. That was my life with VST, that is my life now, that is my life until life is no more.
Miss Firecracker and I had dinner last night, after her return from a fabulous trip across the country. She and I talked about our widowhood, and know we’re through the thickest of the forest of widowhood. We’ve both found acceptance in our hearts that life is here and ours to enjoy while embodying calm and happy. Through dinner, we laughed. A Lot.
The restaurant held only one other couple, young and sweet. Before they left, the man came to our table.
“Ladies, Thank You for bringing laughter to the restaurant. It was so nice to hear happiness coming from your table. No one laughs anymore.”
Upon visiting, we found that he and his wife were new to the town, taking a chance on her like I had last April. He was uncomfortable interrupting, but he had to tell us “Thank You”. Miss Firecracker and I cracked a few jokes with them, and immediately, we had two new friends. That’s just how she and I roll.
Our journey is okay now, she and I. We are widows. We were wives. But, First and Foremost, WE ARE WOMEN. Two very strong, beautiful, wonderful women to be reckoned with. Watch out world. We are on the move.