Category: widow

I am feeling overwhelmed as a solo parent.  I am not a single mom.  I am a solo mom.  There is a difference. I get that there are people who are having similar problems as a single parent, but being a widowed mother of three boys is a little different.   There is no weekend dad to help.  There is no one to tag out to.  I am on my own with the boys.  It is overwhelming.  It is exhausting.  There are days when I just want to throw in the towel. I am not cut out for this.  I can’t keep up and I can’t do it anymore.  Just when I get one on track and things are going smoothly, one of the others has a fire to be put out.  The worst is when all three are having problems in three different areas of their lives.  I am one person.  I can only do so much.  I am trying.  I am giving them all of me, but sometimes it seems like there is not enough of me to go around.  I am sure this is a common feeling among solo parents.

We are not only trying to raise kids on our own, but we also trying to heal the wounds of losing the other parent.  We have to find the balance between discipline and understanding.  We have to be the “good guy” and the “bad guy” at the same time.  Not an easy task.  What’s even better is the judgment from others on how we are doing as a parent.  Outside people seem to know better how we should be parenting our kids and what needs to be done to do it “right”.  But the truth is that none of us know what it is like for other people.  We only see what we see from the outside perspective.  No one sees what goes on before closed doors and what is truly happening or not happening.  There should be no judgment.  We are all doing all that we can to raise our kids.

But some days are tougher than others.  This was true before Pat died as well, but now there is no rest.  There is no way to escape it.  No one to lean on.

Solo  parenting is a constant tapping on your forehead.  Solo parenting is a day in, day out battle.  Solo parenting is the toughest job I have ever had.

But…I wouldn’t trade being their momma for the world.  I love my boys.  They have saved me from myself.  They helped me out of the pit of despair.  They are my moon and stars.  Those days where I can’t take it anymore, I simply have to remember to breathe deeply and  hit that inner reset button.  This button isn’t like the Staples EASY button…I wish, but it can do so much when I remember it is there. It reminds me that this is just a moment in time.  My boys are soon going to be grown and gone.  All I can do is my best.  They know I love them.  They know I would do anything for them.  They can always count on me, even on the worst days.

So even though being a solo parent can feel like the greatest weight in the world pressing down me, I am truly blessed to be their parent.  I am blessed to have these amazing boys in my life and I know we will make it through and into a better day.

So life is going along and I feel as though I’ve got this…I am doing okay.  But then something comes
along and knocks me off my feet yet again.  It use to be certain music, or pictures, or even smells that would remind me of Pat and make me miss him so.  Now it’s crazy things that take me to the mat.  I am standing in the check out lane at Kroger; just going about my business.  There is an elderly man in line in front of me.  It is obvious he is not healthy.  He is in a motorized grocery cart and having difficulty checking out.  The sight of him…the thought of him being there alone…takes me out.  He reminds me of Pat when he was dying.  He was weak and struggling and all alone.  Within seconds I couldn’t take it.  The feelings boiled up inside of me and came raining down.  I couldn’t keep it together and I wanted to run out of the store.  I talked myself down trying to keep it together until I checked out.  All that was running through my head was that this man had no one to take care of him.  He had to try to keep going on his own.  He was going to die alone.  Crazy Irrational thoughts. I felt helpless and paralyzed.  It just took me back.  I saw Pat.  The thoughts that use to run through my head looking at him just raced back into my mind.  It was overwhelming.  It hit me hard.  I held it all in until I checked out.  I walked out to my car with tears streaming down my face and as soon as the car door closed behind me I cried desperately.  I can’t explain any of it.  There was no reason for it.  It came.  It hit me.  It knocked me down.

These days the knock down doesn’t knock me out.  I am thankful to time for that.  Time has healed me in that sense.  I know how to keep moving forward and push through the pain.  It is just still a shock when it comes on so suddenly. What I have learned is to take a deep breath in and enjoy the calm while it lasts for I know there will again be yet another wave in my future.

So I gave myself this year to figure myself out.  I have been trying to discover the new Denise and what I want from life.  I have been a teacher most of my adult life.  I loved teaching…but not anymore.  I am also a counselor.  Which I always wanted to be.  I love helping people.  I’ve always enjoyed working with adolescents and I thought that would make me happy to be a middle school counselor.  Nope.  Don’t want that anymore.  So what am I suppose to do now?  Who is this new Denise and where is she going to go from here?  This is the question that has been set in front of me pretty much since Pat died.  I have pondered in great depths what is important to me and how I want to live my life.  I want to be happy…well shit so does everybody.  But what does that mean to me now?  I know I don’t want a job that I go to and I hate or I am miserable with.  I want to do something that I enjoy the majority of the time.  I want to live a life full of passion and purpose.  I want to do something that is bigger than me; something that makes a difference. But not in the classroom and not working with kids anymore.  It’s just not where my focus in life is.  I want something more.

So what am I talking about?   I have been searching and searching for an answer as to how I am going to make a living for the next 20 years or so and I think I have figured it out.  I think I have always known what I wanted to do, I am just still struggling with how to do it.  Like I said in the beginning…I am a teacher and a counselor… I am also a widow.    I love to write.  What I want to do is to help other widows get through the grief process and move forward with their lives.  I want to inspire others and I want to reach other widows through my experiences.  That’s why I have been writing all of this.  This is why I have been writing a book.  This is what I want to do.

I think that knowing this is a great first step.  Now I need to figure out how the hell to make it happen.  I honestly believe that something will come along…a sign or an angel in my path that will lead me in the direction of where I want to be.  I think I have known all along that I am here to help others.  That’s why I choose the professions I did in life.  I had no idea I would become a widow and that my skills would be used to help others in that situation, but it is….and I am. I think I have found the reasons why…I have found my purpose.

You may notice my writings may change a bit.  I may change the website. I may change the voice of my writing. I may write a hell of a lot more. Some may not be so great…I’m learning.  I’m trying.   I know what I want now and I’m ready to go after it. I hope you join me along the way.  I think it’s going to be an amazing journey.

Thanksgiving tends to make people focus on being thankful for the things they have in their lives.  People even take the whole month of November to be thankful for their blessings.  I have made this a part of my everyday life.  When I wake up in the morning I take two minutes to write down at least one thing I am thankful for and I try not to duplicate anything on the list.  A friend gave me a jar for me to put all I am grateful for in to visually see all I should be thankful for.  It was meant to write one thing on a piece of scrap paper, fold it up and place it in the jar and watch them add up.  I took it another way.  I write on a 8 1/2 x 11 inch sheet of paper, written in two columns on both sides of the
paper…all the things I am thankful for.  Then I roll the paper up and place it in the jar.  The pages have added up over time.  Even on my bad days I am able to come up with something to be thankful for.  It has become a healthy habit for me to get through the days.  I can refocus and remember that even though a lot of bad shit has happened to me in the past couple of years that I still have so much.  Even more than one person deserves.  I am thankful for everyone who has been there for me.  I am thankful for all God has given me.  I am thankful for the little things in the world.  I am thankful to be able to write this.  And I am thankful to you for reading this. There is always something to be thankful for.  Happy Thanksgiving!

As the days pass by and life goes on, I have been trying to find a way to  figure myself out and find the life I am so desperately searching for.  I fall into these pits from time to time that are connected to the loss of Pat, or the overwhelming pressure of being a solo parent, or just because.  Whatever the reason, the pits come along and I fall into a bit of sadness, or hopelessness, or feeling sorry for myself.  I can accept that as part of the deal of being a widow. But,  what I have learned or gathered for myself over the past couple of years is a collection of tools that help me get back on my feet and head in the direction I want to be headed.  When I want my compass to point towards moving forward and being happy, I have found these things to help me along the way.  They are a part of my personal first aid kit for my soul.  They keep me focused and centered on what is honestly important to me in this life.  I am constantly adding to this list as I evolve and find my way.  Here are my five band-aids that are helping me heal. Reading – From the moment widow became my new identity, I have been reading everything I can get my hands on to help me find my way.  I have read so many “widow” books and each has given me a morsel of hope and a plan on how I want to navigate my way through my journey of being a widow.  Reading has also helped me as an escape from reality.  I mostly enjoy young adult books and they have provided me humor and tears that had nothing to do with me, and it is wonderful to escape into someone else’s world for a few and forget about my pain.  Books bring me peace, hope and joy.  I couldn’t imagine life without the written word.   Definitely  my #1. Music – I have always had a connection to music.  I can listen to a song and feel exactly what the artist is trying to portray to their listeners.  I find that when I connect with the lyrics of a song, ‘ if I have someone who understands how I am feeling and that I am not as crazy as I feel.  My playlist is like a soundtrack to my life.  I can go through the list and see where I was emotionally a week ago, a month ago, even years ago.  Without music I think I would feel disconnected from the world and that would be a lonely life. Walking – Walking is my own personal therapy session.  When I am confused, or hurting or have something to figure out, you will find me walking.  I mean really walking.  I will walk and walk until I find an answer or sort my mind out.  The summer after Pat died I was practically obsessed with walking.  I would walk miles a day until I could get some clarity.  My walks helped me through some tough times.  It still does.  I am not as obsessed as I was after his death, but it has been a great source of comfort for me. Writing – Writing is my passion.  When I am feeling anything…happy or sad, I write.  I write daily in a journal.  I write when I can on this blog.  I want to write here more, because it helps me.  It helps others.  I am not the best communicator in the world…some would say I am terrible.  I have a hard time expressing myself verbally.  But when I write I can just say it.  I can say what I want to say.  It just comes easy for me and it is therapeutic and comforting.  It’s my thing that I am good at.  So perhaps, this should be my #1. Choosing me –  This has been the hardest one for me to let into my first aid kit because it goes against my nature.   After losing Pat I decided on how I wanted to live my life.  I want to do what makes me and boys happy.  The problem with that has been that I didn’t know what made me happy anymore.  I have changed so much that I wasn’t sure what that was.  This is where choosing me became extremely important.  Making the choice to leave my job that wasn’t making me happy anymore and taking a year to figure my life out was the best thing I could have done.  This was my first step in choosing me.  Since then I have been working on finding my new path.  I am focusing on my passions in life.  Discovering what they are and putting them in the forefront of my life.  I am trying to be open to the world with an open heart and open mind.  I am taking advantage of my time to just be.  I am forgetting about the to do lists and getting everything done at a particular time, and instead being in the moment that comes along.  I have to be happy in order for my boys to be happy.  I need to be at peace for my boys to be at peace.  I am no good to any of them without me finding solid ground.  So choosing me, as awkward and selfish it may seem, is really the motor pushing me forward down my new path. So I know the down days are going to keep coming.  I am not delusional in believing that because time has passed and I am finding my way that the pain is over, but the days don’t come as often.  Most days are pretty good.  Most days I am happy with my life.  It is a new life, but it is pretty good.  I have an amazing family who loves and supports me.  I have amazing friends who understand my need to be alone at times, and are there with open arms when I am willing to step out into the world again.  I have love and laughter and hope for the future.  My life with Pat was unbelievable.  It was all I had hoped for.  But that doesn’t mean my life now can’t be just as good.  It is different, it has new people, new experiences, new wants and new needs, but it is going to be just as incredible as my “previous” life…maybe even better.  Just keep the focus.  I am still here for a reason and I am going to keep on keepin’ on.

I spent Friday in the ICU with my cousin.  It was my first time back to the hospital since Pat had died.  We had spent 2 years in a hospital and I had never wanted to return.  But I went to the hospital to see my cousin and most importantly to see his family, my family.  I knew this wasn’t going to be an easy day, but I knew I could push through it.  I tried to keep myself at the level of medical knowledge.  Just trying to understand his condition and what was going on.  I didn’t want to emotionally connect with the situation because I was unsure how I would feel.  I did pretty good for a while.  But then I wasn’t so good.  It wasn’t memories or flashbacks.  It was overwhelming feelings that I can’t put into words.  Anxiety came upon me and I couldn’t breathe.

After I left, I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling I had.  I didn’t know what it was, until I did.  It just came to me as clear as day…I am a damaged soul.  Watching Pat suffer and die destroyed a part of me.  It took some of my innocence  leaving me scarred for life.  This is something that can’t be fixed.

When Pat died a huge part of me went with him.  And as my heart was ripped out of my chest it left a scar that will never disappear.  The damage done watching him fight and die is permanent.  The damage is so much more than I thought.  Will I ever feel whole again?  Will I ever feel complete?  It’s not that I need someone to complete me – I need me complete.  But so much has been lost and I’m now left to pick up the pieces of me.  Without all the pieces there, the picture is not all that pretty. I’m afraid I won’t be able to accept the fact that I am damaged and embrace it and continue on.  I’m afraid I’ll be left alone searching for the missing pieces, trying to make it fit together like it was before.  I know it can never be…What it has given me is extreme emotions about life.  I cry more, I see beauty more, I love more.  I am overly sensitive to everything said and done.  I feel deeper.  This is good and bad.  Sometimes I just want to cry until I can cry no more…but the tears just keep coming.

I am so tired.  Tired of it all.  Tired of feeling like this.

I am grieving for me now.  For all I’ve lost in myself.  I didn’t just lose my husband when Pat died…I lost so much more.