Tag: grief

Posted in grief, living forward, widow, widowhood

The gift of widowhood

Posted on by Widow with wings

In the first half of my life, that is before Pat died,  I thought I knew what life was all about. You grow up, you get a job, you get married, have kids, raise your family and someday if you are lucky to retire together as you grow old.  Obviously there are a few pieces of the puzzle missing from that story line, but that was the gist of what I thought life was about.  I always thought there would be time to do everything I wanted to do, or see.  I thought that I was too old or already on my path so that I couldn’t go live my dreams..if I was even sure what those were anymore.  Somewhere along the line in growing up, I think I lost touch with what I wanted as an individual…what I wanted out of life. The things that mattered to me got mixed up or something.   I think I slipped into the conformity of the world and thought stuff was important, and status was important, and a someday would come along when the time was right and I would get to do all that I ever wanted to do.  In short, I had my priorities all messed up.

As we all know, my life didn’t exactly turn out
the way I had thought it was going to.  Instead my husband got sick and died.  My life got turned upside down and I was left in a ball on the floor trying to figure out what to do next.  This was a terrible tragedy.  It was a nightmare of pain and suffering.  This was unfair…

This was a gift.

Now this took me a while to see…a positive coming out of losing the love of my life?  But I can see it now.  Something good did rise up from the ashes of my former life….my new life.  My new perspective.  My new attitude towards living.  My meaning of life has changed and for the better, in my opinion.

giftThis second chance or second chapter of my life is different.  I see things in such a different way.  I want to live and fully embrace the meaning of life.  I want to explore this world and experience it.  I want to do what I want to do.  I want to follow my heart and my passion.  I don’t want to settle.  I don’t want to give in.  I don’t want to worry about the little things.  There is so much more to life than things.  This leads me to living more simple.  I have been purging my house of belongings…of things I never needed.  I don’t want stuff anymore.  I want experiences…I want memories.  I want to do and I want to be.  I understand that life isn’t always that simple.  I am going to have to go back to work and do something to pay the bills eventually.  I am still going to have the mundane chores of life, but I see those different now too

Even though I won’t get everything I want,  that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up dreaming.  I am dreaming big these days and putting it out into the universe to see what comes back to me.  I am focusing on being positive and living my truth.  I know who I am.  I know what I want.  And I deserve to have it all.  We all do.  My all has simply changed since Pat left me.  It’s bigger than before.  It’s connected to my soul more.  I loved the life we
had.  I loved the plans we had together and would give anything to have him back to see them through.  But this is not an option we widows get to have.  I have to accept the change that was given to me…I need to embrace it and run forward into it.  This gift of a second chapter is an opportunity to truly live.  I am working on that principle.  I am listening to my heart and reaching for the stars.   Live life with passion.  Live life with love.  Don’t just simply exist in this world…Go live it.

 

Posted in grief, widow

It’s not the New Year for this Widow

Posted on by Widow with wings

From the moment Pat died, my life was changed completely.  I have talked a lot about how I have changed from his death, and everything in my world has changed from his death, but what I find amazing is that even time has changed for me.  This week marks the beginning of the new year from the stand point of every day time.  2016 rolls out and we all ring in 2017.  We take new years eve to reflect on this past year and all that has happened and we look towards the coming year with hope and great expectations.  We make new years resolutions and set new goals for ourselves.  It’s like the stroke of midnight is a reset button for us.  A time to see where we have been and make the changes we want to make in our lives.

I see it different.

After Pat died, my annual clock shifted to April 5.  That is my mark of the new year.  This date is when I reflect on where I have been in the past year and I look forward to the next year.  It is the day that I see that  I have survived another year without him.  I have managed to keep on breathing another year without him.  And with that, I look to the next year with hope for more healing and more peace.

I know the calendar shows a new year beginning on Sunday, but to me it is still the second year without Pat.  I haven’t quite made it into my new year.  My timeline is different now…just like so much of my life is different now.

So though I like to celebrate new years eve and watch the crystal ball drop in times square at midnight….I know in my heart that I am still trying to live this second year the best I can.  Come April I will reflect on how far I have come without Pat by my side and I will look into the third year with hope and determination for a better life for myself and the boys.

 

learn

Posted in grief, widow

A note to myself: you’re doing better than you think

Posted on by Widow with wings

I find that  I need to remind myself these days that I am not only surviving as a solo mom of three, but that I am doing a good job.  I tend to focus on the things I am not doing, or the mistakes I am making rather than looking at how far I have come and what I have accomplished.  I think this is normal.  I am terrible at expressing myself verbally to people in order to tell them how I am feeling and so when I feel I have something to say to them, I write them a letter.  Well, right now I feel as though I need to write a letter to myself to express what I am feeling towards me…a sort of reminder or check in on how I am honestly doing as a widowed mother of three.  So here is what I have to say…

 

Dear Denise,

I know this has been a tough road you have been on and you have been beaten down to where you don’t want to get up again.  Your days are a constant struggle to find your way and raising those boys has been exhausting.  But I want you to know that you have impressed me with how far you have come.  I remember after Pat died how you had to consciously tell yourself to get up and take care of the boys.  Every moment of your life was something you had to intentionally do.  You didn’t know how to do anything and didn’t want to do anything.  How many times did you drop the kids at school and just want to keep on driving until you disappeared?  I remember those times of darkness.  You didn’t think you would ever make it through the day….but you did.  You went to sleep each night and woke again in the morning.  You got up, did what you had to do the best that you could, and kept on going.  It was the most difficult thing you have ever had to do….I know this.

And time has passed and you are still going.  You are no longer taking baby steps to get through the day.   Not even baby stepping through the week.  You are out of bed, out of the fog and heading out of the darkness.  I know you have put a lot of work into where you are now.  This healing didn’t just happen on its own.  You put in the time, reflected on who you are, who you were, where you’ve been, and where you want to go.  You have pondered, and cried, questioned and cried,  searched and cried and cried some more.  You battled the demons in your head and worked on healing your heart.  You took the time to introduce yourself to the new you and spent the time getting to know who you are now.  You gave yourself the gift of grace and the gift of time to  find your path and gain your footing on this new journey.

You did all of this while raising three boys.  You have held them up and held them tight.  You comforted them when they were lost, and scared and sad.  You helped to guide them in the right direction and to see the beauty in a life worth living.  You help them to remember their daddy and to see him in their everyday lives.  You did this.  No one else.  You kept your little family going the best way you knew how.  You did this and you should see that.  You should be proud of that.

None of this has been easy…I am aware of this fact.  You did what you had to do.  You have made mistakes along the way.  But you are learning from them and living forward.  You are not letting your loss and pain and suffering be the end of you.  You must keep going for you and for your boys.  There is an amazing future for you if you just keep working for it.  Keep living with an open heart and an open mind.  Focus on what you are looking for and remember what is truly important to you.  That is how you will find your happy ending.  Only you know how to get to that place.  Only you can bring you to true happiness.  You have done so much already…there is no quitting now.  Don’t quit before the miracle happens.  Stay the course and keep true to you.

You know what you are doing…even though you say you don’t.  Trust your instincts, follow your heart, listen to your gut.  Love those boys like never before and keep working towards your dream.  You so totally got this.

With all my faith in you for the future,

Denise

 

Posted in grief, living forward, widow

A Widows Christmas: Part 2

Posted on by Widow with wings

 

This is my second holiday season as a widow.  Last year  I spent the holidays just trying to get everything done and make sure the boys had everything they needed and that they felt comfortable without their dad.   I tried to keep it as “normal” as I could under our circumstances.  See last year we were not in our own home.  Not only had we lost Pat, but we had to leave our home for six months due to some major construction to the foundation of the house.  We spent the holidays in a rental home.  We didn’t have access to our Christmas decorations, or anything.  We didn’t have lights, or stockings, or anything that made us feel like it was Christmas.  We were living out of boxes and in a mess of things.  But the holidays come no matter where you are or what state of mind you are in.

I thought I was doing okay.  I was getting all the shopping done, staying on top of school parties and making sure Christmas morning was just as it always had been before Pat died…like that was even possible.  But I was trying.  We always had a breakfast casserole and cinnamon rolls for breakfast after opening presents.  And we always had spaghetti dinner.  I was prepped and ready for the day.

The boys came down and were happy to open presents and give me the gifts they had made.  It felt okay.  We were doing okay.  And then it was time for breakfast.  I took all the ingredients out to get cooking but didn’t have a pan to cook it in.  We had a house full of rental furniture and dishes and stuff and there was no casserole dish to cook breakfast.  This was what broke me.  I left the house in search of a store to buy a pan, crying the whole way.  I couldn’t do this on my own.  I wasn’t cut out for this.  I had messed up and ruined Christmas.  I ended up at my friend’s house in the neighborhood crying on her couch as she quickly found me a casserole dish to help me out.  I was a mess.  It pretty much summed up my first Christmas as a widow.  I had been shoving down all the pain, and sadness I was feeling just to push through the days with the boys.  I was putting on a show for everyone, including myself, that I was doing okay.  I wasn’t…  What a joke.

So here I am in the middle of my second Christmas season as a widow.  We are less than a week away from the big day and all I can say is what a difference a year can make.  I don’t feel that agonizing pain and loss.  I don’t feel alone and overwhelmed.  This year it seems people have gone away, as they do, and so we weren’t pulled in as many directions as we were last year.  There weren’t the parties or get-together we use to have to attend.   And last year I felt obligated to go to everything and see everyone.  I was worried about hurting other people…  I’ve gotten over that.  Now I worry about the four of us and what we need.  So I am sure that has helped me out this year.  I can focus on what is most important and that is us being together and making memories together.

Now don’t get me wrong. This is no Norman Rockwell painting here.  I do have three boys between the ages of 13 and 10…there is a lot of chaos and fighting going on in this house.  But it is something that just is.  It isn’t a result of Pat not being here.  It’s just the fact that there are three boys filled with testosterone fighting for their place in this house.  It just is.  We aren’t weighed down this year with the sadness.  Yes we miss him.  Yes we wish he was here to celebrate and be with us.  But that’s not our reality.  We can’t live like it is.  I am glad that we aren’t .  We are all trying to turn the page and start living forward.  We have started to make new traditions.  We are changing some of the old traditions too.  It is a part of becoming the new us.  The Mahoney 5 is gone in the physical sense and so we can’t expect everything else to stay the same too.  We have created our new family and our new way of being.  It has brought new challenges, but it has also brought us new happiness.

I think that this year is better because the fog has lifted.  I don’t feel that weight holding me down.  I can see where I am headed and I know we will figure it all out.  Each day is still a struggle, but it is not the same struggle as it was last year.  Now it is more of the struggle to raise these boys and help them to succeed in life.  Parenting alone is the struggle this year…not the holidays.

So as the days bring us closer to celebrating Christmas,  I am hoping that I truly am doing Okay this year.  I am hoping that this year will not end up as a rerun of last year.  I don’t feel as though it will.  But hey, this widowhood thing always has a surprise waiting around the corner and sometimes you just don’t know what is coming your way.  I am just going to try to keep on moving in the right direction and pray for a peaceful, Merry Christmas.

 

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Merry Christmas   2016

 

 

Posted in grief, solo parenting, widow

the struggle is real

Posted on by Widow with wings

I am struggling these days with raising my boys.  My boys are 13, 11 and 10 and they are a handful.  They are full of energy and full of life.  I envy that in them.  They love to take risks and try new things and go out on a limb (literally at times) to have a good time.  They have their father’s adventurous spirit and his rebellious attitude.  The second is what is pushing me over the edge these days.  I have had to learn, basically from the time of their birth, that my boys need the freedom to explore life and live in it.  I know that they like to be a little crazy and a little loud and they simply are always looking for a good time.  But lately, they have taken this attitude in to a negative place.  They are not showing me the respect that I think I deserve.

I try to give my boys all that they need.  This isn’t in a materialistic way, because I don’t live that kind of life.  But in the fact that they are allowed to do a great deal and are given great opportunities to  jump into their passions and interests.  I want my boys to have a strong foundation to launch themselves out in this world.  I want them to know that their momma believes in them and their dreams, and will always be their number one fan.  I want them to know that their daddy wanted nothing more from them than for them to find happiness, love and passion for life.

But they are pushing me over the edge with their behavior lately.  I just need some help from them.  I need them to listen to me and do the little bit I ask of them.  I ask for their help with the groceries, with putting their dishes in the sink, keeping their rooms in a decent condition (I’m not delusional that it will be clean all the time), I ask that they don’t call each other names and beat on each other all the time, and I ask that they treat me with respect.  They aren’t doing such a great job at the moment.

So today I finally lost it. I blew my top with them.  I told them how I felt….what I expected from them and what I had been given lately from them.  I told them I didn’t know what else to do because I have been trying…I am doing my best, but nothing is working.  So this is where we came to.  Me acting like a screaming lunatic in the kitchen.  And they cried.  And I didn’t care.

Does that make me a horrible mom?  I don’t think so.  I want to get through to them.  I want them to understand that I am struggling with being a single mom.  I am having a hard time filling the shoes of their father, but I am doing my best.  But I also want them to know that I love them.  And they do.

They know that I will tuck them in and help them with their homework.  They know that tomorrow morning I will make them breakfast and drive them to school.  They know they can count on me and I will always have their back.  They know their momma  loves them.

But sometimes momma needs a little love too.  I need to hear the thank yous and the I love yous.  My boys aren’t so quick with those words, which only makes them mean so much more when I hear them unprompted.

I don’t know what I need to do now with them.  I am at a crossroad.  They need their daddy here.  I need their daddy here to step in and put down the hammer when needed.  They just aren’t buying it from me anymore.  Something needs to change with them.  It’s either I need to change my reaction to them, or they need to change their reaction to me….maybe it’s a little of both.

We had quite a “discussion” this …me explaining where I stand at the top of my lungs…not my finest moment as a mother.  I think we need to try again in a calmer way to have a heart to heart.  A family meeting.  A meeting of minds and hearts to get this little family back on track.  I can’t keep going on like this.  And they don’t want or need a momma who is feeling the way I am right now.  The struggle to raise these boys is a daily grind that wears me down.  I wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world.  They are my life and my world.  I’m just looking for a little peace in that world.  Is that too much to ask?

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Posted in grief, living forward, widow

The tears of a widow

Posted on by Widow with wings

A year and half later the tears are still falling.  I have cried so much and for so long, I don’t know how there are still tears left to be produced.  I cry for more than just my loss of Pat and the loss of me.  I cry for all that I can not have and can not be.  I cry for all that I have and all that I will never have.  The feelings are much more intense now.  I feel so much.

tearsBut the tears aren’t just running down my cheek for you all to see.  I cry inside, I cry alone.  My days are not like they use to be.  There is so much more to ponder.  So much more to feel.  All the pressure that comes with being a widow can break you.  But we widows, we are strong.  We have been through hell and are fighting our way out.  We know how to hide our pain and struggles. We hold it in and make it our own.   I don’t like to share my inner thoughts and pain with others because I don’t think anyone truly understands.  And I’m glad for them that they don’t, but I am sad for me that they don’t.  It’s hard when you are all alone on the inside.  Feeling like you are the only one that knows your pain and struggle.  There are people who understand parts of what you are feeling and certainly there are many who can empathize, but it’s so not the same.  The pain we have is so real and personal.  We want for someone to get it, but we don’t want to have to explain it to any of them.  We cry inside for someone to understand.  We shed a tear when we can’t find a way to make it better.

But a tear is a sign that we are alive.  It is the way our soul opens up and speaks to the world.  We can’t always say what we are feeling and sometimes we don’t even now what we are trying to say.  Tears give our soul a voice.  And it doesn’t have to mean we are in a bad place.  It simply is a way of clearing our way for better things to come.

Each tear is for something different.  The tears tell our story and reminds us we are still here and there is life to be lived.  The tears of a widow aren’t always shed for the one who has passed.  Our tears are so much more than the heartache we suffered.  The tears help to wash away the pain and move us along our path.

I’m moving along mine.  I really am.  I’m lucky.  I have found someone who understands.  Someone who has lost their love.  We share our feelings.  We share our pain.  We understand where we have been, where we are.  But this doesn’t make it all better…it simply helps in the healing.  Because it helps to be heard and to be understood.  It helps to have someone put into words the feelings you are feeling inside but you can’t express.  For the tears just keep coming.  And the pain still remains.   I may have tears in my eyes and pain in my heart, but my soul is working its way back into the world and it is ready to shine brighter than ever before.

 

Posted in grief, inspiration, living forward, self confidence, widow, widowhood

Again

Posted on by Widow with wings

So I’ve been sitting here all morning trying to figure out what is going on with me.  My head is a mess running wild with thoughts and worries and confusion.  I am feeling unmotivated, disillusioned, doubtful and basically scared shitless of what lies ahead.  I am not sure how I got to this point.  I’ve been doing so well.  I feel at peace with Pat’s death.  I am into a good routine with being a single parent.  I have accepted the new Denise and I am enjoying being her.  But there is something pulling me down.  I feel lost and scared and I have been driving myself and probably everyone else around me crazy this week trying to deal with it.  I am not sad.  I am not mad.  I am not even confused about what I want in life.  I know what I want.  I know what I need to do to get what I want.  I just have this loud, obnoxious voice in my head that keeps screaming at me and I can not shut her up.  I don’t know how to get rid of her or at least shut her down for a bit.

Fear.  Fear has taken over all I am and it is holding me hostage in this in between life stage I am in.  I want to move forward.  I see a path, I see a plan and an opportunity, but she won’t let me go.  And because of her pushy demanding ways I am stuck doing what I am doing…which is nothing.  Of course I have a million excuses as to why I can’t get going down this path I want to take.  We all do that.  But why?  Why won’t I just do it?  Just take
that step…it’s not even a jump anymore.  I feel like I have taken the big jumps that I needed to move forward, without looking I must add, and I so far I have survived.  I wanted to jump and see where it takes me.  But serious, Is this it?  It is going to take me nowhere because I am so stuck in my head with the voice of fear keeping me right where I am?

So now what?  That is where I am right now.  I love that feeling when I figure out what my problem is.  It is at that point I can begin to make a plan to make a change.  Even though I don’t exactly know what to do, it is a better feeling than not knowing what the hell is wrong with me.

I know what I am doing to myself by making up these crazy things that could wrong.  Of course things could not work out the way I want, but in all reality what has gone the way I have wanted in my life?  I never in a million years thought I would be an unemployed 42 year old widowed mother of three boys trying to start life over again.  But here I am.  And I am enjoying most parts of my life.  I see that it can actually be a better life than I had before if I could just get out of my head and take the first step down the path I want for myself  I know I could really start feel like I am living once again.

I feel like I have been in this spot before, like a hundred times, back at the beginning,  Starting over and making a new game plan.  Sometimes it feels hopeless because it doesn’t seem to work for me, but its the only thing I know to do.  Make a plan, find a way to fix the problem and get going.  I get down like this, as I think everyone does from time to time, but I refuse to be a marinator…one who sits in the pain and confusion complaining and not doing anything about it. me That is not who I am…ever.  I will give myself sometime to feel what I am feeling.  Think through my craziness.  Cry a gallon of tears.  But there is a point where I say enough is enough.  Get off your ass Denise and get going.  Today is that day.  I am giving myself this past week for what it was worth and I am ready to start again…again.  As long as I keep getting up and trying to move forward I think I am heading the right direction.  As for the voice of Fear screaming in my head, I am ready to shut her down.  If I fail at what I am going to try to do, then I fail.  It doesn’t make me a loser.  It simply makes me someone who wants to live.  Living is about learning and loving.  There is nothing more I want to do with my time here then to learn and love.  So bring it on.  I’ve survived worse and I am ready

……again.

Posted in despair, grief, widow

My endless pit

Posted on by Widow with wings

falling-into-the-endless-pit-of-non-canon-ships-489719Most of the time I feel like I am doing okay.  I am out in the world and living.  But the thrilling part of the grief process for me is that at any moment and for any reason I can fall into a pit of despair.  I usually know when it is coming on and feel as though I am “slipping”.  I can catch myself, refocus on what I need to do and continue on.  It may take a day or maybe two, but I can catch myself before I find myself curled up in my closet or sitting in the shower crying.

But there are timeswhen I can’t help but fall.  It isn’t an all of a sudden a fall, but rather an endless slow motion fall into nothingness.  It begins with…well actually it usually begins with nothing.  Nothing really has to happen.  A thought, or a word or an interaction with another can do it.  The spiral begins.  My head doesn’t know how to shut down.  I can’t turn it off.  Trust me I wish I could if even for a short period of time.  I think and think and think.  My brain has to analyze everything from every angle.   I question my thoughts, my feelings, my decisions.  I’m sure it is the result of feeling so out of control and unsure of what I am doing.  I want to know that I am not crazy.  I want to know that I am okay…that I will be okay.  So I try to be sure that I am not just fooling myself on how I am doing.  In doing this, my brain goes round and round.  I think until it has driven me farther into the pit.  At that point the feeling of just wanting to disappear into it comes over me.  Sometimes I don’t want to keep getting up and moving forward.  Sometimes I want to be left alone and wither away.  I know it is okay for me to sit in my feelings of pain and loss for a moment, but this is different.  This is a more permanent residency of pain.

It is kind of like the desire I have to want to be in the world of the living again.  I truly want that for myself.  BUT…I really don’t. I want to find my place in the world again, but I don’t want people in my business.  I want to share in relationships with people, but I don’t want them to input their opinions or to even to try to understand.  Selfish right?  I am truly blessed to have people who care about me and my boys and want the best for us.  They want to be a part of our lives and they just want us to be happy.   I know that.  But I am grieving.  Grief rears its ugly head again…and so I want to isolate and go it alone.  It’s easier that way sometimes.  The most I can do is focus on what I need to do at that time.  Trying to deal with other people’s dramas or opinions doesn’t fit into my world at this time.  I want nothing to do with it. So what I do is retract from the world of the living.  I step out into it for a bit, and then quickly right back into my bubble.  I am happy there. I feel safe there.  Perhaps that is where I need to stay for a little longer.  I hope people will still be there when I am ready to return.

So this endless pit of despair sucks me in again and I fall and fall downward in a spiral hoping  to be saved from this pain.  I then remember there is no one there to save me…I have to save myself.  And so that is what I do.  I will keep getting up and I will keep trying to climb out of the pit and I  will eventually step back out into the world.  I wish I knew a quicker route than the one I am on.

 

Posted in accepting, grief, inspiration, living forward, widow

To be or to not just be?

Posted on by Widow with wings

This past week a question was proposed to me that has had my mind spinning ever since.  I have thought and thought about the answer and how it pertains to my life and I am unhappy to say I am struggling with this one.  The question was how does livingheart for the moment and finding my path correlate?  How can you live in the moment and still seek a path and follow a plan?  Since I can’t think this one through, please bear with me as I try to write my way through.  Sometimes this works better for me.

Ever since Pat died…actually ever since Pat got sick, I have had a new perspective on life.  My focus and understanding of the world has changed.  I understand we only have a limited amount of time on this earth and I want to do with that time all that I can do.  I don’t want to just sit and wait for time to pass me by with some days, or in ten years, or when I retire.  I want to live and feel and be…NOW.  I want to enjoy every second and do what I want to do during the time I have.  I don’t know what tomorrow brings, or if it will even come.  I am trying to follow my heart and make decisions on what feels right for me and my boys.  Some of the decisions may seem a bit crazy, but I don’t want to be stuck in five, or ten years from now thinking I wish I would have.  So I am trying to live for the moment and just be.

BUT…I am also searching for a new path; a new direction; a new purpose in life.  Can I have both?  I think I can.  Yes, I want to be in the moment and live it how I want to live it, but I am human and I want more.  I want to feel a purpose.  I want to know that I have meaning.  This could be to someone, or something.  I want to share my life and build it with hopes and dreams for the future, but that doesn’t mean I have to wait to try to live those hopes and dreams.  I think my idea of living in the moment with a path for the future means that I want to do all that I want to do now….not someday.  If I want to write a book, then I want to do it now, not when the kids are older.  If I want to travel and see the world, then  I want to do it now,not when I have more money or I am more settled…that may never happen.  There is never enough.   If I want to spend time with someone, I want to do it now….not in ten years.  I don’t want my life to be a destination, an end game or the plan for the future.  I want it to be my life that I am living.  Not I am living to have someday.

I get I can’t do it all or have it all today, right this moment.  But I can do with my time all that I want to do.  I don’t need to spend my time wasting away on wishes or some days.  I know there is no guarantee for tomorrow, but I do have dreams and I see a path before me.  I just want to live along the path and not just ride the escalator of life until I get to the point where it “makes sense” to start living the life I want to live.  I think I can do both of living in the moment while setting out on a new path.  The point is I want to live and I think that is what is most important here.  Whether or not I decide to wait ten years before I do that, or start right this minute is up to me.  I have to decide what this means and it doesn’t really matter what anyone else thinks of that decision.  I think the beginning of  my journey on this so-called new path of mine was the choice to continue to live forward.  After that I can either decide to truly live or continue to wait in the waiting room for life to come my way.  I don’t know about you, but I want to get out there and do it now.  I could wait for something better, or a better time, or a better situation to make others happy, but perhaps all that really is telling me is that isn’t what is best for me.  Because what is best for me is what makes me happy, what makes me a better mom to my boys and what will continue to lead me down the path of my life.  I don’t want to find happiness….I want to live in it.  There it is.  That makes sense to me.

So I guess that’s my answer.

 

Posted in grief, inspiration, motivation, widow, widows fog

Lost in the Fog

Posted on by Widow with wings

A widows fog.  A phrase I never knew existed until I was thrown in to the world of widowhood.  I didn’t have to read about it, I experienced it.  From the moment he died I had the immediate understanding of what it was.  It’s a hard thingth to describe to someone who hasn’t walked this path in life, but for those of you who are on this similar path, I think you know exactly what I am speaking of.  Most of the time it is a simple haze I am walking around in.  My peripheral vision is blurred and I can simply focus on what is in front of me.  I can take care of the one thing I am focused on at a time and then move forward to the next.  This leads to forgetfulness.  Not the usual forgetfulness you think of as you age or when you have too much on your plate.  It’s a repetitive, annoying, drive yourself crazy forgetfulness.  If it’s in your head, it’s there for just a moment and then it’s gone…sometimes for good.  I recently remembered that I forgot the birthdays of two family members months ago.  I know when their birthdays are; I am sure I thought I need to send them a gift, but then it was gone.  It didn’t resurface until almost 5 months later.  This is small in the world of fog.  I never…and I mean never know where my keys or my phone are.  I can’t get out of my house.  Without my trusted babysitter, I am not sure I would have made it to work all year.  She would check me off with all my  belongings.  Some days I would return home two or three times to pick up things I forgot.  I can’t remember the countless times I arrived at work without my computer.  And paying bills is a constant struggle for me.  I tend to either completely forget to pay a bill or like what I’ve been doing lately, paying the same bill two or three times.  These are just a couple of examples of how crazy I have felt in the past year or so.

It’s more than all that though.  The fog is overwhelming.  It is distracting.  When it is thick and all-consuming (and at times it is just that) – I can find myself stuck.  Stuck in one place.  Not thinking of anything.  Not doing anything.  Just stuck.  Hours go by before I start to rise out of the fog.  It’s almost like a black out and yet I am still conscious.  Daily, the fog lies low all around.  It interferes with all that I do.  It’s almost like zoning out, but it is happening simultaneously with my daily life.  The fog takes over my thoughts, intereferes with my conversations, and makes focus on life difficult.

They claim it won’t last forever.  I think it is there to help ease the pain.  I think in the beginning the fog is there to blanket the wounds of loss.  To keep some of the pain at bay.  For if you felt it all at once, I am sure it would end you.  I don’t think we as humans can handle that much pain at once.  As time has gone by, I think the fog is just lingering as I adjust to my new life.  I wish I understood it.  I wish I could make it go away.

Maybe it is keeping me grounded or focused on what NEEDS to get done.  All the little things don’t really matter anymore anyways.  Maybe it is there as a reminder that I am not truly okay yet.  Maybe it’s just the lingering reminder that I am alone.  I don’t know what it is.  I just know that it is.  It leaves me wanting to be alone; to disappear into my mind and find my own way.  It leads me to revert back to the early days after Pat’s death where I need to consciously remind myself to get up, take care of the boys, do something.  I am still here for a reason.  I have no idea what that is just yet, but I have to keep reminding myself that I am here and I need to keep living.  I hate that it takes a constant reminder to do this, but it does.  It still does.

Perhaps one day, the fog will lift and I will come out on the other side happy, healthy and confident.  I will fully engage in life again;no longer dipping my toes in the pool of life, but rather jumping in with a cannonball; Making a splash that will rain down upon me bringing me the comfort and security of my new life ahead.  Maybe…