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

Look Out High School, Here He Comes

My son started high school today. My little baby is now a high school freshman. I’m not exactly sure how that happened. I swear just yesterday I was rocking him to sleep. And how he’s playing on his high school football team. Where did the time go?  And while I’m excited for this next adventure for him, I hate that his dad isn’t here to see it.

As I dropped him off for his first day of high school this morning, I thought to myself I can’t believe how calm I am. I figured I would be emotional and crying. But then my girlfriend texted me to look at the rainbow. That Jared was definitely watching over our kids this morning.   And I felt my eyes well up with tears and a few of them slip down my cheeks. While I love that he sends me signs to let me know he’s watching over our son, I would give anything to have him be physically present today. To be able to experience this first, this milestone together. But that can’t be so I’ll be happy knowing Jared is watching over our baby boy. And I guess that has to be enough.  

First day of high school. The next step on his journey of life. What an exciting time for my son. So much change. So many new experiences to come. And I am blessed that I will get to watch them. See them unfold in his life. But I will always think I wish his dad was here.

Such is the life of a widowed parent. Marked with bittersweet moments. Those moments when I am bursting with pride. And at the same time I want to cry because Jared is missing.  Those moments that I can’t help but think dammit life isn’t fair. His dad should be here too. Those moments when I am so excited for his future. And at the same time remember his future is missing his dad.  

For us, high school is a whole new world. My son has attended the same school since he was four years old. Everyone knew his dad. And now, now he’s going to a new school where no one knows his dad. Or even knows of his dad. And it hit me, as he grows up and his life moves forward, there will be more people in his life that never knew his dad than people that did. And that hurts my heart. I don’t want his dad to be forgotten. For no one to know the man he was.  The amazing dad he was.

As Steven’s life moves forward, his new friends won’t have any memories or experiences that include his dad.  They will assume that my new husband is his dad. And while I love that Jon is an amazing dad on earth, I don’t want people to forget that Steven has a loving, amazing dad in heaven. A dad who for 10 years gave Steven everything he had. Loved our child unconditionally.  Talked to him and gave him tons of advice. Tried to prepare him for his future. A future that his dad knew he probably would not get to see.

In the 4 years since Jared died, we have had a lot of firsts.  Everyone thinks the firsts happen in the first year. That is not true. We are constantly having experiences that Jared is not a part of. High school marks just one more milestone in our life since Jared died. One more first. Another bittersweet moment.  But with each first, each milestone, we have better coping skills. And while there will always be bittersweet moments and there will always be a little bit of sadness, we are able to hold onto the joy. To celebrate. To feel the excitement. To know that we are blessed that we get to continue to live this life.

Look out high school. Here he comes.

Unexpected Love After Loss

I have been a remarried widow for seven months. It feels like forever and yesterday all at the same time. Just like death. When Jared died, I swore I would never fall in love again and certainly never get remarried. But here I am, a remarried widow. And I wouldn’t trade a thing.

When my late husband, Jared died I told myself I would mourn him for two years. I knew I would grieve his loss forever but I felt I needed to actively mourn him for two years. Why? I have no idea. But that is what I decided. And for two years I did not allow myself to truly be happy, to feel joy because I felt that would be betraying my self imposed time of mourning.  

My self-imposed time of morning ended on September 16, 2016.  I met my new husband on November 19, 2016. And I believe with all my heart that Jared sent me Jon.  He knew I would never step out into the dating world on my own so he sent Jon to sit down beside me at the bar on a cruise ship where I could not run.  If you had told me on that night that a year later I would marry my new beginning, I would have laughed. Laughed hysterically. But that is exactly what happened.

Exactly 12 months after our fateful meeting on that cruise ship, Jon got down on bended knee in front of our children and asked me to be his wife.  He truly understands that death does not end love. He tells me all the time that my marriage ended because Jared died not because we fell out of love.  And he knows that my heart is capable of expanding to love them both. He is not a widow. He is divorced. But he tries to understand this crazy widow journey. While he can never truly know what it’s like to walk this path, he does his best to support me.  He has held me as I’ve cried for Jared. He has helped me celebrate Jared’s life. He placed the first picture of Jared in our new home. And because my new beginning could love me, my son, and in his own way my dead husband I did not hesitate to say yes when he popped the question.

On December 20th, Jon and I decided why wait? Why wait to start our lives together. I knew better than most that life is short.  That we only have a finite time. And I never wanted to say I wish we had. So I made a phone call and found out we could have our dream beach wedding at sunset on New Year’s Eve. And that’s what we did. Then we rang in the new year surrounded by our family and closest friends.  

At our wedding, we did not say till death do us part. Jon told the priest death does not end love so instead we said until we meet again. That is just one of the many reasons I love that man.  Life as a remarried widow is not always easy. I still have unexpected grief triggers that will drop me to my knees. I frequently look at my son and think I wish his dad was here. On every birthday, anniversary, or milestone I think I wish Jared was here. But even though I wish Jared could be here, to still be part of our lives, I wouldn’t trade being married to Jon.  Such is the life of the remarried widow.

What Death Has Taught Me

What has death taught me?  

It taught me to stop saying someday.  None of us are promised tomorrow and we need to make each day “someday.”

It taught me to live each day to the fullest.  Because each day is a gift and should reach its full potential.  

It taught me to live without regrets.  To say I can’t believe I did not that instead of I wish I had done that.  

It taught me not to take people or moments for granted.  Instead to always say how I felt and live in the moment.

It taught me not to sweat the small stuff.  To not care about dirty dishes in the sink or dirty clothes on the floor. It taught me to look at the big picture instead.

It taught me not to wait for the right moment.  Instead to make any time the right time.

It taught me not to wait to take an adventure. To mark it on the calendar and make it happen.

It taught me to have my priorities in order.  To know what really matters because in the end, that’s what is important.

It taught me that fear is powerful and will steal your joy if you let it.  Instead stand up and look fear in the eye. Be fearless.

It taught me that my faith could be stronger than my grief.  Because without my faith I would not have survived the unimaginable.

It taught me to teach my child to live a life he can be proud of.  Because that is your legacy.

It taught me to love without reservation.  Because love shared is multiplied.

It taught me that life is finite.  So to make the most of the time you are given.

Even though I always knew I’d be a widow, I still took Jared and his love for granted.  Always expected we would have tomorrow. Even though we lived a lot adventures, there were still those things left for someday.  But he really did try to live his best life. To live each day to the fullest. His life and death taught me to the same.

What did death teach me?  A lot. And I’m still learning.

Step Mom Life

When I married my new beginning, I became a bonus mom. And it is nothing like being a biological mom. It’s actually harder. The dynamics between me and my bonus daughter are completely different than those between my son and I. My son loves me unconditionally. Because I am his mom. Forgives me when we disagree and argue. Because I am his mom. Just wants me to be happy. Because I am his mom. The bond between us is easy, natural. Because I am his mom. With my bonus daughter, I feel like I am always on the periphery, never quite fitting in. Because I’m not her mom. I fear if we argue and disagree she will stay angry, choose to no longer be part of our family. Because I’m not her mom. We don’t yet have a bond, haven’t cemented our relationship, don’t quite understand our dynamic. Because I’m not her mom. I fear sees me as nothing more than her dad’s wife. Because I’m not her mom. We decided to use the term bonus instead of step because none of us liked the negative connotation associated with step-mother. To me, my bonus daughter is the bonus I got when I married her dad. And now I have a new role as her bonus mom. It’s my job to make her feel loved and wanted. Part of our family. Keep the peace. Bonus moms often do the work, make the effort, and get little credit. We do what we do for love instead of acknowledgement. As I am often reminded, I am not her mom. And I never will be. But I am a parental figure in her life or at least I hope to be. I can never be her mom. I am not trying to replace her mom. I’m not trying to steal her away from her mom. I just want to have my own place in her life. To someday be important to her. To maybe, someday, be more than just her dad’s wife. Being a bonus mom is hard work. And I’m not perfect at it. But I’m doing my best.

Six Weeks of Grief Hell

This week begins what I refer to as our six weeks of grief hell. Steven will be graduating eighth grade on Saturday. And for many, that’s not a big deal. But when you’ve been at the same school, with the same people since you were four years old, that’s a huge change. A change his dad will not be here to see.  Each event this week to celebrate his graduation, will only serve to remind Steven that his dad can’t be here to celebrate with us. And Sunday is not only Mother’s Day, it’s also Steven’s birthday. Another day his dad should be here. Then comes June. And we have Jared‘s birthday, my birthday, and Father’s Day. More days, more reminders that Jared isn’t here. More milestones, more events that Steven and I will celebrate without Jared.  And yes, we will celebrate. Because even though Jared is gone, life and it’s accomplishments deserve to be celebrated.

I’m looking forward to celebrating Steven’s accomplishments this week.  I’m just not looking forward to the grief that is also sure to come. But I will find a way to honor both the joy and the sorrow.  The bitter and the sweet. All while making Steven feel loved. After all, this is his week!

#bigchangesahead

#congratulationsSteven

#6weeksofgriefhell

#bittersweet

National Widow Day

Today is National Widow's Day.  And unfortunately, I am a member of that club.  A club I never wanted to join.  But I am surrounded by some of the strongest men and women I know.  We support each other.  Lift each other up.  Hold each other when we need to cry.  Commiserate about being alone.  Discuss the hardships of solo parenting.  I'm not sure how I would have survived without my widowed tribe.

Many in my widowed community also lose their friends and family when their spouse dies.  But I am also blessed to have amazing friends and family who supported me on my grief journey.  Who continue to support me.  Who are always willing to help.  To listen.  Who help keep Jared's memory alive. Who celebrate my newfound joy.   Who understand that 2.5 years is forever and yesterday all at the same time.  Who continue to miss and love Jared but at the same time are willing to open their hearts to my new beginning.

This widow journey is not one I would wish on anyone.   And given the option,  I would give my widow card back in a heartbeat.  But that is not an option.  So instead I will march on. I will wear the title of widow proudly, with honor.  Being a widow means I was loved until Jared took his last breath.  It was my privilege to be Jared's last love.

Today on National Widow's Day, do every widow you know a special favor. Talk about their dead spouse.   Speak their name.  As a widow one of the most painful things is to the think that others have forgotten your late spouse.  Remember, that our lives were forever changed in a single moment.  Our life as we knew it ended when our spouse died.  The future we had planned vanished, never to happen. Our present became one of basic survival.  We no longer felt whole, complete.  A part of us died in that moment.   And our loss should not and cannot be ignored. Our loss shaped us into who we are now.  Someone new, someone who has lived in darkness and fought their way back to the light.

Acknowledge our loss.  Don't ignore it, change the subject, or refuse to speak their name.  These actions are hurtful, they make us feel alone.  Like an outcast.  Today of all days, honor a widow.  Remember their life before death.  Speak their spouse's name.  Honor a love so deep that even death cannot end it.

To all my widowed friends, I'm sorry we are walking this journey.  That we know this pain. This struggle.  But I am grateful that I do not have to do this alone.  So today on National Widow's Day, I honor my widow tribe.  I honor my love story.  And I will continue to look for hope and happiness.

#widowsrock
#NationalWidowsDay

Parenting A Grieving Child

My grief, I can typically handle. I can figure out a way to manage and cope. But Steven’s grief,  that’s a whole other story.

When you’re parenting a grieving child, you do your best to make them feel safe. To feel loved. To give them all the reassurance they need.  Watching your child grieve is one of the most helpless feelings in the world. When Steven’s grief is deep and raw, it knocks me to my knees. Seeing him struggle to process all of his emotions shakes me to my core.  Makes me question every decision I’ve made. Makes my heart ache that my child has to know so much pain and sadness. That a part of his innocence is forever lost. That he is keenly aware that people die and no one is promised tomorrow.  That he will always wonder what his dad would think. That his life is forever marked before and after.

For the most part, Steven has done really well since Jared died. He has an amazing heart. Is so very kind. And has faith that would move mountains. But there are days, those awful days when grief takes hold of him and he just can’t shake it.  That he feels lost. That he’s just a little boy missing his dad. And those are the days that make me feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Make me wish I had a magic wand and could make it all better. That make me wish I could forever protect him.  But I can’t. Unfortunately, grief is a part of his life. And it always will be. I’m just thankful the bad days are few and far between. Because my mama heart can’t handle watching my baby suffer. My grief I can handle. Steven’s grief, not so much.

Remarried and Still Alone

I am a remarried widow.  But there are days, like today, that I still feel alone.  That I realize in many ways I am still a solo parent.  Why?  Because my new husband lives 1,000 away.  And we only get to see each other one or two weekends a month.  Yes, I knew when we said I Do that we would live apart for another 18-20 months. And I knew that would mean my day to day life really wouldn’t change despite getting married.  That I would still be responsible for my son and myself on a daily basis.  That my husband would continue to have a whole other life in Texas that I wasn’t a part of.  That we would miss the daily activities in each other’s world, including our children’s lives.

But we decided that life is short and we love each, so let’s get married and figure it out as we go.  Some days we get it right.  Some days we need to do better.  It’s always a juggling act.  Trying to figure out how to support each other and our children.  How to be there for each other on a daily basis not just the big moments. How to make decisions together when we can’t have group discussions.  How to be a family unit when we only get to spend a relatively short amount of time together.  How to be a parental figure to the other child when our interactions are limited to infrequent weekend visits.  But we are learning.  Trying.  Slowly figuring it out.  Should we have waited until we could live together to get married?  I don’t think so.  Is long distance marriage hard?  Absolutely.  But we are making it work.  And I like to think we will be stronger for it.

I know when my husband moves here, there are times I will still feel alone.  Feel like a solo parent.  That is part of being widowed.  Feeling alone in a crowded room.  Making tough decisions without your child’s other parent being there to give you their opinion.  Feeling like you are holding the weight of the world on your shoulders. But I also know I’ll have a partner.  And if I ask, he’ll carry the weight when I can’t.  That he’ll be happy to step up and be a parental figure to my son while understanding that my son’s dad will always be a part of our family and dearly missed. That our day to day life will change.  We’ll have to adjust to being together everyday.  Sharing our space.  Our lives.  That we’ll have to once again figure it out.  And I can’t wait for that day to come.

Not Part of Everyday Life

When you live 1,000 miles apart, it’s hard to be part of the every day of someone else’s life.  No matter how hard you try to include each other.  You can try to share all the highlights, ups and downs of each day but that doesn’t make up for the distance. And it’s even harder if one of you shares more than the other.  But no matter what, one of you is always missing out on something. Some event. Some milestone. Some part of life.  And that makes it even more difficult to blend a family.  To feel like a family unit.  To forge relationships.

We are doing our best.  Sometimes we succeed.  Sometimes we don’t.  But we keep trying.  And one day, we will be together for the day to day.  Which will bring its own adjustments. Dealing with blending our worlds.  Our routines.  Our lifestyles including parenting.  Unfortunately, by then Alli will be off at college so I will never get to enjoy being part of her daily life.  But at least I will be there when she comes home for holidays and weekends.

Hopefully one day we will feel like a real family.  It will just be natural.  Not a mine vs yours or us vs them.  But just a family.  Treating each other the same.  Not worrying if someone is going stop loving you because you’re not biologically related.  Knowing that the love and relationship is unconditional.  That comes automatically with biological kids and parents but it’s not so easy with bonus kids.  And it’s even harder to form that bond when you see each infrequently.

Long distance is hard on a relationship.  Hard on a family.  So much is missed.  But at least we know it’s not forever.

We Are The Rememberers

As life moves forward, there will be an entire group of people that never knew Jared.  And that a painful reality because I want people to know him. To know his story.  To appreciate the life he lived.

As Jon and I move forward in life, people will think we have always been together. They won’t know that I had another great love. A man who taught me to love.  A man who deserves to me remembered.

As Steven moves to high school, his new friends will never know his dad. They won’t share any memories of Jared.   As we meet new people, they will assume that Jon is Steven’s dad. They won’t know that Steven’s dad lives in heaven.   They won’t know what an awesome dad Jared was.

As milestones in Steven’s life approach, I always think I wish his dad was here.  I wish Jared could see this.  As Steven graduates, gets married, has his own children, we will share stories.  Make sure Jared is included in our day.  Ensure Jared’s grandchildren know of him, if only thru pictures and our memories.

Part of my job as Jared’s widow is to keep his memory alive.  To be the rememberer.  To ensure no one ever forgets him.  And that responsibility is my privilege.

As life moves forward and new relationships form, there will be many people who never met Jared.  But because those of us that love him will keep his spirit alive, they can get to know him. He will always be a part of our family.  It’s my job to see to that.  To ensure he is never forgotten.  To remind the world of a great man who lived life to the fullest.  To make him proud of how we have lived and loved since he left.  It is not easy to move forward and live life but For me, it is the best way to honor Jared.  To ensure he is never forgotten.

Camp Widow and New Love

This weekend I attended Camp Widow.  And for the first time I brought a new love to camp.  I wanted Jon to see why Camp Widow is important to me.  To see how much it has helped me. To have a better understanding of my crazy widow journey.

And he fit right in.  My tribe loved him.  Welcomed him.  Accepted him.  He honored my past while being part of my present.  My future.  He knew I needed this time, this weekend, to rejuvenate my soul.  He understood that this weekend was about continuing to find ways to heal.  To balance grieving with living.

And I was doing great until Saturday morning.  Then BOOM!  I felt guilty. Guilty because I felt like I wasn’t missing Jared enough this weekend.  Guilty that Jon was there and Jared wasn’t.  Guilty that I was enjoying spending time with my husband at Camp Widow.  I know it’s not rational.  Guilt rarely is.  But still it was there, kicking my ass.

Jon and I had already decided that he would fly home Saturday night and I would go the gala with just my tribe. I liked that he was at camp.  Could share in this part of my journey. But I needed some time to sort my emotions. And I’m fortunate that Jon understood and respected that. Yet, I missed him at the gala.  Wished he could have shared in the living tribute to our loves.  That he could have seen how much honoring Jared soothed my soul.  That celebrating my love with Jared allows me to love him in a way I never imagined.

I felt guilty because I enjoyed having Jon at Camp Widow.  Liked that he could share in this part of my life.  Get a glimpse of just how much Jared’s death affects me everyday. But then I realized because of Jared’s love for me that I am able to love Jon the way I do.  Because of Camp Widow I have the tools and support to live in the now with Jon while never forgetting the love I share with Jared.  And I refuse to feel guilty for that.

The Love Of A Dad

When Jared died, I realized there was no one else on this earth who was going to love Steven like that again.  No one to share in the love of our child with me.  No one else who has all those same memories.  No one else to share in all those childhood stories.  No one else who would ever again love my son with the same emotions as I do.  And that is one of the hardest parts about being widowed.

Parents love their their children in a manner that cannot be explained.  And when Jared died, Steven lost that unconditional love of one of his parents.  Yes, others love him but no one else will ever love him like his dad did.  And even though my new husband loves Steven, it’s not the same.  He will never love Steven the way he loves his daughter.  He will never love Steven the way I do or the way Jared did.  And how could he?  Yes he will be an amazing parental figure to Steven but he will never love Steven the same way that Jared did.

And that makes my heart hurt.  My heart hurt for the child who lost his father way too young.  My heart hurt for the child who lost a certain innocence way too soon.  My heart hurt for the child who will never again be able to truly know the empowering, unconditional love from his dad.

Widowed life can be a lonely one.  Full of roller coaster emotions.  Full of realizations that make your soul ache.  But it can also be one of strength.  One of survival.  One of showing a little boy that while life will never again but what it was, it can be good again.  And that while he may never again hear his dad say “I love you Steven”, he will always be able to feel that love.  ALWAYS.

Sometimes you just need your dad.  And I hope Steven knows his dad is always there.  Just a thought away.

Not The Life I Planned

When Steven was born, Jared and I kind of laid out a map for his future. We knew things would change as our lives changed but the one thing that was a constant was that Steven would get a Catholic education. Unfortunately, our lives did not go as planned. Jared died. And that changed EVERYTHING.  And now, the one constant in our plans might be changing as well.

Steven was accepted to both Catholic high school and to the high school magnet program he really wants to attend. And now we face a decision. Which high school will be best for him? At which school will he excell? Which high school will best prepare him for college?

These all sound like normal, simple questions. With an easy answer. But that’s not so easy when the person you made the plan with is dead.  I can’t ask Jared’s opinion.  We can’t discuss what we think is best.  We can’t agree to deviate from the plan. And now I’m left wondering would he approve? Would he be OK with the decisions I’m making? I know in my heart of hearts Jared would just want Steven to be happy. He would just want what is best for Steven. The problem is, I’m not sure what that is. I know what Steven wants.  But is that what’s best?  Only God knows.  So I’m trusting Him.

All this school stuff is opening up so many emotions.  It makes me realize that as time marches on, the distance between my life with Jared and my life now will continue to grow.  And that’s a hard reality.  To realize that my life is no longer following the path Jared and I planned. Instead I am following a completely different path.  And I’m not certain how to bridge the gap between the two.  Plus, there is a new man in our lives.  A man who is a father figure to Steven.  Jared will ALWAYS be his dad but Jon is now a male parental figure in his life.  And there is a whole slew of emotions that comes along with that. So many emotions.  That are going to take me some time to process.  But eventually I will find a way to manage the two paths, lives, loves in my head and in my heart.

Not The Future I Planned

My life is not as I planned.

When I planned my life it was with Jared and Steven. It was going to be the three of us against the world. Forever.

Then BAM!  Death snuck in and changed everything.  And suddenly, my life was nothing like I planned.

And now 3 1/2 years later, my life is on a completely different track.

I’m married to a wonderful man.  I have an amazing bonus daughter.  My son is thriving.  But my life is not perfect.  Far from it.  And it certainly isn’t easy.  Despite or maybe because of the challenges, it’s a pretty awesome life.

Blending a family, especially a 1,000 miles apart, is hard work. Harder than I ever imagined. Becoming a family of 4 overnight. Dealing with sibling rivalry for the first time. Adjusting to married life after years of doing it on my own.

Working hard to feel like family and ensure that everyone knows what an important member they are to our family. Working hard to be a family adventures, disagreements, laughter and all.  We know it won’t happen overnight but it is slowly happening.

Learning everyone’s personalities. Learning how to mesh our likes and dislikes. Learning how to appreciate each other‘s parenting styles. There’s so much to learn.  

Trying to balance our time between much needed family time and couple time. Trying to forge a relationship with my bonus daughter when we don’t see each other nearly as often as we would like.  Trying to ensure that my son is handling all these changes and knows that we will never forget his dad.

We may not always get it right but we are trying.  Learning.  Working hard.  And we are a family.  A family that loves.  That laughs.  That bickers and disagrees. That’s what makes our family great.  We are real.

Because of the heartache, I can really appreciate the joy.  Because of the sorrow, I live harder.  Because I have known such loss, I love deeper.  This may not be the future I planned but I wouldn’t change it.

The Night My World Changed

I will never forget the night Jared died.
The night I held him in my arms as he took his last breath.
The night my world changed.

Going to bed that night, hugging Jared’s pillow.  My heart shattered in a way I never imagined possible. Wishing God had just taken us all together.  Finally crying myself to sleep.  Waking up the next morning thinking it was all a terrible dream.  Only to realize my nightmare was real.  My husband was dead.  I was a widow.  A young widow with a 10 year old son to raise.  All by myself.  Solo.  Because the man who used to share that responsibility with me had gone home to heaven.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?
How could I go on living without Jared?
Would anything ever feel normal again?  And what was normal now that my life had been turned upside down?

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, I realized that I was numb.  That I was walking thru life, surviving but not living.  Then the numbness wore off.  And suddenly I felt hopeless. Terrified I would mess everything up and Steven would suffer because of it.  Completely unsure how to do this thing called life alone.  

But thankfully I had amazing friends and my widow tribe to see me through.  And with a lot of work and time, my grief changed.  It never got better.  But it did get easier to manage.  Eventually, I could smile at the memories instead of cry.  I could be thankful for what was instead of just missing what would never be.  I could start to think about living again.  Begin to discover who I was now and who I wanted to be.

None of that happened overnight.  And it didn’t happen easily.  I still have bad days.  Bad moments in good days.  Am brought to my knees by unexpected grief triggers.  But I recover better now.  Pick myself up faster now.  Remind myself I want to make Jared proud.  I still have a purpose.  A life to live.

Despite my resistance, I started to heal.  Wanted to live. To be happy again.  To look forward to my next adventure.   And I decided to trust myself.  To allow myself to feel again.  To begin again.   Yes, my heart will always have a scar.  A place that will always carry Jared’s love.  But it is able to beat again.

I will never forget the night Jared died.
Or how much I wanted to die too.
But I’m grateful I trusted in God’s plan.
And now I am doing more than surviving. I’m thriving.
And I know Jared would be proud.

I Thee Wed

On this day, I thee wed.

I never imagined those words would apply to me twice in my lifetime. When I married Jared, I knew I would someday be his widow. But at that time I had no idea what it would mean.  I didn’t know how it would feel.  And when he died, I certainly never thought that I would find love again.  And then came Jon.  My new beginning.  My love.  My happily even after.

Jon came into my life by complete surprise.  I wasn’t looking for love but there he was. A handsome stranger opened my heart to love.  He sat down beside me and forever changed my life. We talked about my tattoo and the word widow didn’t scare him.  He didn’t look at me with pity.  He wanted to know my story, all of it.  Then he asked me to dance and literally swept me away.

This handsome man danced his way into my life and into my heart.  His love is one of my greatest blessings.  He loves me.  For who I am.  Broken heart and all.  He loves me on the good days.  And he loves me harder on the bad days.  He is a great dad on earth.  Who loves mine and Jared’s son.  Who wants to help Steven with life lessons.  Who wants Steven to see his mom happy.  Who has no expectations.

He is not my second choice.  He is not a consolation prize.  He is in my life because he is supposed to be.  God sent him to me at just the right time.

Looking into his eyes as I vowed to love him until we meet again in heaven.  Holding his hand as I placed a symbol of our love on his finger.  Walking down the aisle as Mr and Mrs.  Feeling his arms around me as we danced to our song.  Laughing as we toasted our future together.  Watching a beautiful sunset on our perfect day.

This may not be how I planned my life but I wouldn’t change it.  With this ring, I thee wed.  And I would do it all over again.