When you are widowed, you are told how you should feel. How you should grieve. How you should react to the loss of the love of your life. But there are no rules for grieving. There are no should’s. There are no how to’s . And yet, everyone is more than willing to give you their opinion.

When a widow shares their feelings, their grief, there are those that applaud them and then there are those who tell them to hush.  It’s OK to be the appropriate grieving widow. But that should only last for so long. And you should really think about what you say so that it doesn’t make anyone else uncomfortable.

I call bullshit.

Unless you know the grief a widow is suffering, you know their entire story, you know just how they feel, you have no right to say anything. You have no right to shame them into silence.

Widows need each other. We are a lifeline that unless you have been widowed, you cannot understand. When my late husband died, I knew no one like me. I did not know any other person who had buried their 37-year-old husband. And then thanks to social media and a friend who had unfortunately buried her husband the year before, I was provided a lifeline. I found widows just like me. Not only did they let me know I was going to be OK, they let me know it was OK to want to live again.  Without the open and honest words of the widows who had gone before me, I am not sure I would have survived.

And now I feel it is my job to give a lifeline to the widows who come after me. I by no means have it all figured out. I’m learning as I go. I am totally winging it. But I want other widows to know they are not alone. That we are in this together.  And I refuse to stop sharing my words. If my story helps just one other widow, then it is worth it. Then my late husband‘s death will not be in vain.

Hopefully, most people will never know what it’s like to be me. To have loved and lost. To have suffered something I thought I would never survive. But I did. I not only survived, but I made it a reason to live.

And now, 4 1/2 years later I am in a place I could never have imagined for myself. I am remarried. Trying to blend a family. Trying to find a balance. Trying hard to be true to myself.  All while building a life with my new love.

And I hope sharing my story will give other widows hope. Let them know that there is no rule book on widowhood. That it’s OK to grieve however they need to in order to survive. It’s OK to share their sorrow.  And their joy.  And it’s OK to live again. 4 1/2 years ago other widows, most I had never met, gave me hope. And now I want to do that for someone else.

18 Years and Counting

Sunday would have been my 18th wedding anniversary to my late husband. And for the first time, I celebrated it as remarried widow.  The fact that I am now remarried, did not stop me from celebrating my love story with Jared. We had 14 years together as husband and wife. And the love I have for him will never die. Death does not end love. And I have every right to celebrate my love with Jare

I am blessed that my new husband understands that. That he not only honors my love story with Jared but he also celebrates it. For the last 2 years on my wedding anniversary, Jon has sent me flowers. And the notes said happy anniversary to you and Jared.  You’ll never be the only one to remember this day again. I had told Jon, that my wedding anniversary is one of the hardest days. Because it’s the day that only I remember. It’s a day that was special to Jared and I but not necessarily to anyone else. It can be a lonely day. And he ensures that I do not celebrate it alone. 

I am so blessed to have found this man.  This man with a huge heart. This man that is never jealous of the love I have with Jared.  The man who says he’s grateful for my love story because it made me the woman he loves. 

I am blessed to be a remarried widow that can celebrate both of my love stories.  I am blessed to have found all encompassing, unconditional love not once but twice. 

Jared and I had a fairy tale wedding complete with a horse and carriage and a bagpiper.  It was everything I wanted. It was the wedding of my dreams. I wouldn’t trade a moment of that day.  Our first date was the Kentucky/Gator game and two years later we said I do on that same weekend. Our reception was a celebration of our love with 400 of our family and friends.  Complete with a Gator groom’s cake and a Gator chomp photo. It was perfect. Beautiful. Everything I hoped it would be. And I would do it all again, without hesitation. 

When we got married, I told Jared we should celebrate each anniversary and the one one times 10 because I wanted to celebrate 50 years together.  When we married, I knew our marriage would not be forever. I knew one day Jared would die. But I wanted to love him as long as I could. And I hoped we would get a miracle and grow old together. 

God blessed us with 14 years.  We honored our vows. Especially the in sickness and health part.  When Jared received his first lung transplant we were blessed with great years of health.  But the last few years, we saw our share of sickness. But I still wouldn’t change a thing. I was married to my best friend.  The man of my dreams. And nothing was going to change that.  

Fourteen years later exactly one week before our wedding anniversary, I said my final goodbye to Jared.  Said goodbye to life as I knew it. Said goodbye to life as a couple. 

And then 3 years later, God blessed with me another great love.  A man who would understand that my heart could expand to love 2 great man.  A man who would honor my love story with Jared. A man who would help me celebrate my wedding anniversary.  A man who understands death does not end love. 

I am doubly blessed in love.  And on Sunday I honored my love story.  My love story that death could not end. My love story that will live on as long as I do. My love story that showed me what love really meant.  My love story with Jared. 

Here’s to 18 years of love.  And counting. 

My Decision To Remarry

When my late husband, Jared died I swore I’d never date again.  Never fall in love. And would certainly never marry again. And if I did it would be after my son was grown.

Twenty six months after Jared died I met Jon on a cruise ship.  It was completely random. We connected. Laughed. And enjoyed each other’s company.  But I wasn’t sure if it would amount to anything. Fast forward a year and he proposed.  Exactly one year after our chance encounter, he asked me to be his wife. And I, without hesitation, said yes.

But before he proposed, when we were talking about getting married, I had some reservations.

Could I open my heart to love like that again? Could I risk knowing my heart could be broken?  I decided yes I could. The heart has an amazing capacity to love. And I didn’t want to walk away from such love. I was willing to risk being hurt to find my happily even after.

What if he got sick? What if he died?  I thought back to my time with Jared. I wouldn’t have a changed a thing. The pain I felt after his death was definitely worth the love we shared. So if Jon got sick, if Jon died, I knew I would never regret the choice to love him.

What if  people thought I was forgetting Jared?  Marrying Jon did not mean I was forgetting Jared. He will always be a part of my life. I will always carry him in my heart. But I wanted people to know that. People to understand that I could love two men. And that marrying Jon did not in anyway extinguish my love for Jared. People are not replaceable.  New love doesn’t end old love.

What about my son? Could I let someone else help me parent him? My son has an amazing dad. He just happens to live in heaven. And I wanted to make sure that Jon understood that. That he could be Steven’s dad on earth and he and Steven could have their own bond, their own relationship but Jared would always be his dad.  Jon is so patient. So kind. My son couldn’t ask for a better dad on earth.

What about his daughter? Would she be accepting of me and our relationship? Would I be able to love her and treat her like my own? And I realize that yes, I could love her. I could welcome her into my life, into my family. I could be her bonus mom and all that it entails. The rest I could not control. The rest was up to her.

Would it be easy?  F*ck no. It would be anything but easy.  It would be hard work. Harder than I ever dreamed. If someone had clued me in on just how hard long distance marriage and blending a family would be, I might have run screaming in the other direction.  

Would it be worth it? Absolutely!  Without a doubt. Loving and being loved by Jon is without a doubt worth all the heartache and tears.

Would our two families feel like one overnight?  Hell no. We’ve been married 9 months and we still don’t know what we’re doing.  We make mistakes. But we keep trying. When will we feel like a family? Not his and hers but ours?  I have no idea. I just hope someday we do.

Deciding to jump into a new relationship wasn’t easy.  Deciding to open my heart to love again, to remarry doesn’t mean I don’t miss Jared. Or wish he was still here.  It just means I decided to move forward with my life. To open my heart to new adventures, new love.. Love post loss was completely uncharted territory for me. Knowing my heart could be broken was a very real risk.  But it was a risk I decided to take. And while it hasn’t been easy or perfect, I wouldn’t change it. My new husband is perfect for me. Perfect for this time in my life. I can’t wait to see what our future holds.

Four Years

Dear Lovebug,

Today marks four years since you went to your heavenly home. Four long, hard, difficult years. And it still feels like yesterday and forever at the same time. I found such comfort, such peace, in the fact that you told me that the angels were there to take you home. That you told me you were not scared. That you were not afraid. During the last four years, those words and that knowledge have been such a source of comfort and peace for me. You have no idea the gift you gave me that night.  

So much has happened in this last year. The biggest news, I know you already know, I married Jon. A man I truthfully believe you sent to be in our lives. The other big change...I sold our house. Steven really wanted to go to the finance program at Northeast and that meant we had to move. And I know, you would have been completely supportive of that decision.  So we are living in a new house, in a new city. Life without you is definitely not the same. But we are doing our best to make it a good life.

We miss you everyday.  We always wish you were here to see all that’s happening in our lives.  We wish we could make more memories with you. But I know you are watching, smiling with pride at how I’ve kept my promise.  At how we are living our life to the fullest. At what a great young man Steven is becoming. I still can’t believe he’s in high school.  He reminds me of you at least once a day. You would be so damn proud of him. He is definitely his father’s son.

You touched so many lives.  And are missed by so many. My heart will always have a space reserved just for you.  No matter how many years you live in heaven. No matter how much my life changes. No matter what happens, you will always be a part of my life.  My heart. You will always be the reason I said yes to love. You will always be Steven’s dad. You will always be my first forever love. You will always be missed.  You will always be loved.

Thank you for loving me. For spending your forever with me.  For giving me a lifetime in a limited number of years.

I love you,

Carla

Four Long Years

Sunday will be 4 years since my husband died.  

4 years.  

48 months.  

1460 days.

If you had asked me 4 years ago where I would be today, I would not have been able to give you an answer.  I couldn’t imagine surviving one day. Let alone four years. But I have survived. In fact, I’ve thrived.

When my husband first died, a part of me died too. The life that I had known for the past 16 years, died. In the blink of an eye I went from married to widowed. Widow, a word I could not even say out loud. A word I could not believe described me. A box I hated checking on any paperwork.

Overnight I went from having a partner to being solo. I went from being part of a couple to being alone.  All of a sudden, to society I was “single”. I went from having someone to help me raise my child to being a solo parent.  All of a sudden I was lonely in a room full of people.

I wasn’t sure how I would survive that first night. Let alone that first week, month, year.  There are days in that first year that I don’t remember. Days I’m not sure how I made it thru.  But somehow, by the grace of God I did survive.

The first year after he died, was all about Jared.  Remembering him. Honoring him. The second year I decided would be about me.  Discovering who I was and who I wanted to be. The third year, was all about adventure.  And I found unexpected love. Year four, I didn’t have a plan. I just jumped into life with both feet.  I said yes to love and became a remarried widow. I sold the house I shared with Jared to create a fresh start for our son. Year 5 will start with me honoring my late husband on his angelversary wearing someone else’s ring on my finger.

I’m not yet sure how I will handle all of my emotions on that day.  So many emotions. But time has taught me that I will survive the day.  And the next year.

Sunday will be 4 years since my world changed in the blink of an eye.  Four years since life as I knew it ceased to exist. Four years since my life was marked as before and after. Four years.  

Yes, my life is good again.  Yes, I am happy. Yes, I love my life now. But that doesn’t change the fact that four years ago my heart broke.  Four years ago my world came crashing down. Four years ago I didn’t think I would ever feel “normal” again.

Four years ago I could never have imagined that I would survive Jared’s death.  And even though a part of me died that day, I worked hard to put the remaining pieces back together.  I not only survived, I’m thriving. And I know Jared would be proud that I chose to honor him by living life to the fullest.   Four years ago, I couldn’t imagine a future. Now I know year 5 will be full of love, adventures, and laughter. And Jared will be smiling down on me as I live my best life. It’s the best way I know to honor him.

Grief: Self-care is Vital to Survival

In exactly 2 weeks it will be four years since my husband died. I used to love the month of September. And now, now I completely dread it.  Not only is my husband’s angelversary in September, exactly one week from that date is our wedding anniversary. When my husband died, I quickly learned I had to take care of myself. That no one was going to come and rescue me. I had a little boy who needed a mom. And it was during those days that I can’t remember, times I’m not even sure how we survived, that I knew I had to start taking the baby steps to find a new normal. To figure out who I was and who I wanted to be.  And I knew taking care of myself was the only way my child and I were going to make it through.

When Jared first died, I was not sure how I was going to survive. I had no idea what it meant to be a widow. I had no idea how to be how a widow. I had no idea how to be a solo mom parenting a grieving child. I felt all alone.  I felt hopeless. I didn’t know anyone like me. And then I found my tribe. I found Soaring Spirits International and Camp Widow. I attended my first Camp Widow four months after Jared died. And for me, it was life changing. It gave me a group of people who got it.  A tribe who understood and never judged. But more importantly, it gave me hope. Hope that not only would I survive but that one day life would be good again. My tribe has held my hand on my worst days and has celebrated my newfound joy. This special group of people are always only a text or phone call away.  There are no words to describe the importance of finding your tribe. I cannot imagine life without mine.

Not long after my husband died, I decided to make a huge change. Something that was necessary for my sanity and my survival. See, Jared died on Tuesday and on Friday my office called to see when I would be returning to work. Yes, three days after my husband died and before he was even buried, my office called to see when I would be returning to work. I knew then that I had to do something different. Since quitting my job or finding a new job was not I am viable option, I decided to cut back the hours I worked. Which also meant I cut my paycheck. Maybe not the best financial decision but it was the best decision for me. For my sanity. For my self-care. For my survival. Four years later, I still only work four days a week. Friday is my day to myself. My day for self-care.  My day to go get a massage or pedicure. To have lunch with dear friends. Or to go sit at the beach and let the waves soothe my soul. Changing my work schedule, even though it meant taking a pay cut is one of the best decisions I ever made. Taking a day to myself, a day to do whatever I need even if it is to do nothing at all was the best grief filled decision I’ve ever made.b

After my husband died, I realized I needed an outlet for all the thoughts running through my head. I needed a way to process everything I was feeling.  So I began to write. At first I started out writing letters to Jared. Telling him how much I missed him, how much I needed him, how much I loved him. Then I was journaling, telling him all the things he was missing. And then my journals became a blog. At first I kept my blog private and didn’t share it with anyone. But then I began to share my feelings on Facebook. I knew there had to be other people like me. Other widows who needed support. Other widows who needed someone to hold their hand and help them walk through the fire. Other widows that needed to know there was hope.  Through writing, I have found such peace and a purpose. And I have connected with so many other widows. Widows who have shared their thoughts and helped me. And widows who have told me my words have comforted them. Before becoming a widow, I never thought of myself as a writer. But it has become the perfect outlet for me.

The next three weeks will be very rough for me. And I have learned over the last four years that during the times of deep, hard grief, I need to indulge in more self-care. So you might find me getting a massage. Or sitting listening to the ocean. Or sharing my feelings in a blog post. Because I have learned that to survive the hard grief days, I have to take care of me. Self-care is vital to survival.  And I don’t want to just survive, I want to thrive.

16 Days

In 16 days it will be 4 years since Jared died.  Telling Steven his dad died was the second hardest thing I have ever done.  Seeing Steven's heart break and knowing I had just taken a piece of his innocence is something I will never forget.   And I remember thinking, I hope this doesn't change him too much. Because I was certain it would change him. How could it not?  Losing his father at the age of 10 would definitely have an effect on his life. But to what extent? Would he lose his faith? Would he lose his gentleness?   Would he no longer feel safe? Would he worry that I would die too? Would he see the world as an evil place because death was suddenly very real? Thankfully, none of that happened.

Instead, Steven developed a stronger faith.  Sees the world as a place where love grows. Tries to be joyful because his dad told him that when he is happy on Earth, his dad would be happy in heaven.  He is slow to anger and quick to forgive. He is compassionate, the first to offer comfort when someone is sad or hurt. He is patient and kind. Believes life is all about adventure.  Understands that none of us are promised tomorrow so live for today.

His dad's death changed Steven.  Just not in the ways I feared. Instead, it made him into a young man with an amazing heart. A young man of whom his dad would be proud.  Because of Jared's death, because we suffered through the worst trauma of our lives together, Steven and I have a bond that can never be broken.  

Yes, Jared's death changed Steven. It shaped him into someone who knows that he can overcome anything.  It showed him that with faith, love, and laughter you can persevere, survive, and thrive. But most importantly, I hope it taught Steven that even though his dad is not here on Earth, he will live forever in his heart.

#BreathingforJared
#losingyourdadsucks
#deathchangesyouforever
#feelslikeforeverandyesterday