Dancing and laughing

 Tonight I was out with a bunch of colleagues. So there was a guy in this group that I really didn't know but he was funny and made me laugh. He reminded me a lot of my brothers. That one who would pick on you until you picked back up but there were no hard feelings. So tonight after our meeting, a bunch of us decided we would go out dancing. I have not been out dancing since my husband died 17 months ago.

Before my husband died, flirting to me was something as easy as breathing. It was just something I did. My husband used to tell people "I know she flirts she just can't help herself."  But we are both very confident in our love and in our relationship and it never bothered him that I was a flirt because he knew I was always coming home with him.

But tonight I went out with this group of colleagues and this guy was giving me a hard time.  And  I was giving it back.  I thought nothing of it actually, we were laughing and  having fun, no big deal right? Then one of my friends looked at me and said are you flirting? And I thought oh, I can't possibly be flirting.  I haven't flirted with anyone in 17 months.  And if someone flirted with me since Jared died I was almost offended.  Like, how can you flirt with me when my husband is dead.   Well then the guy says to me that the last time he was in this city was with the girl he is dating.  Then I knew for sure.   I can be nice to him, I can laugh with him, I can have fun with him because he is safe. He has a girlfriend.

Then the band sings Shania Twain's Any Man of Mine.   At my wedding, as a joke, I had that song played for Jared and I was singing to him any man of mine better walk the line. And that became a joke amongst us.  During  our honeymoon, I made him breakfast and I burned the bottom of his cinnamon rolls. When I handed them to him he said " mmm mmm I like em like that.". Just like the song says. When this song played tonight out of nowhere I thought it was his way of saying hello and telling me it OK to have a fun night.

So I contine talking to this work colleague and laughing.  Then we decide to dance and he says I'm going to dip you at the end and I want you to trust me.   I said you might drop me and he replied "I would never embarrass you or me like that. And I want you to trust me.". And I bend my knees because I'm scared.  He looks me dead in the eyes and says trust me.  So I did and he dipped me.  And then our night ended and we came back to the hotel.  And here I am telling myself it was no big deal, it was just a night out with coworkers, a fun night and we all laughed. But I kind of feel guilty for laughing and flirting since it has only been 17 months since Jared.  But I also feel alive again for the first time in 17 months.

All because this work colleague reminded me that I can have fun with someone.  He will never know what he taught me tonight.  That i have the desire to laugh. The desire to have fun. And more importantly the desire to hold the hand of man and slow dance. It was something I didn't even know I had been missing.  Tomorrow when our meeting ends, I will head home to the little boy in my life and he will be head back home to his girlfriend. And he will never know the change in me.  That tonight sparked something in me.  But I almost feel like I should thank him.

Thank him for making me realize there's still a life inside me. Thank him for making me realize that I still have a spark inside of me. Thank him for making me realize that I want a man to acknowledge me. A man to make me feel special. I again want to enjoy going out and doing nothing but dancing and laughing. So he may never know what he did for me tonight, but I am so grateful that I know. Thank you Jason thank you for helping me to remember that I deserve and want to be loved.

Feeling lost

For a few weeks now, I have been feeling discontent.  Lost. Lonely. Like I am floundering.  I am at a loss for who I am now. Now that I am a widow.

I used to define myself by my roles.  Wife, mother, nurse practitioner.  But I do not want my widowhood to define me.  That leads me to the question, who am I now?  I will always be Steven's mom.  I am a great nurse practitioner, I love my patients and they love me.  And while I still feel married, I am no longer classified as married.  I am now a widow.  A badge I wear with pride.  I was loved till forever, I was someone's last love and that is truly an honor.

So then, why I am feeling lost?  I think it is because I have no idea how I want my life to look now.  I love being a mom but being a solo parent to a grieving child is tough, harder than I ever imagined.  And even though I am good at my job, I no longer love it.  It no longer brings me a sense of pride, fulfillment, or accomplishment.  Maybe that's because my perspective has changed?  Maybe it's because being defined by my job is no longer enough? Maybe it's because when Jared died, a part of me died too?

I think my discontentment is from the inside.  While I am fortunate to have a good job with great benefits to support my family, I sometimes wish I could run away and take a sabbatical. Take some time for self discovery.  Take the time to work through my grief and begin the healing process.  But, unfortunately, running away from my responsibilities is not an option.  So instead, I am left trying to fit self discovery, grieving, and healing into my life as a full time working mom caring for a grieving child.

I pray that God will guide me on this journey and lead me to my joy.  My passion. My purpose.  Whatever IT is that will make me feel whole.  Engaged in life.  That thing that will once again make my heart sing.

For me, feeling lost and discontent is necessary to realize I am healing.  I know that sounds crazy but at least I am feeling again.  Baby steps.  To finding myself.  To healing.

Traveling and Divorced are NOT the same as Dead

I've often had friends tell me that they understand exactly how I feel because their husbands travel for work or because they are divorced.  News flash, unless your husband is actually dead you have no idea how I feel. Having your husband travel for work or being divorced is not the same as being widowed.

While I can appreciate that friends often say this because they think they understand how you feel, all that really does is let me know that they have no idea how I feel. If they knew how I felt they would say things like it is so hard for me with John on the road all the time I can't imagine how I would do it if I knew he was never coming home.  Or when Tim and I got divorced it was so hard to adjust to being home alone all the time.

When your husband travels you still have hope. Hope that he is coming home. You can still make plans. Plans for a night out when he comes home. You can still call, text, or email him. You can call him when you're having a bad day just for him to say it's okay I'll be home soon. He can text you goodnight I love you. You can send him an email of your child's project so he can see how well they're doing in school. When your husband is dead,  none of these things are possible. There is no hope that he is ever coming home. There is no chance to call him, text him or email him. There is no one to say your child is driving me crazy today, it's your turn. There's no saying I can't wait to tell your dad about this when he gets home. There is no one, no one to help you be a parent. There is no one, no one to share your life with.

When you are widow, you wake up one day and your life is completely different. You wake up and say goodbye to the life you previously knew. If your husband travels you do not know the reality of watching him suffer a long and painful death. You don't know the guilt of going from praying for a miracle to praying he will not suffer. You don't know what it's like to hold your child in your arms and tell them their dad is never coming home again.  So you have no idea what it is like to be a widow. Yes, you may often find yourself being a single parent.  You may find yourself having to make many decisions. But the difference is your husband is still there. You can call, text, or email and get his opinion. When your husband is dead that is not an option.

I have had divorced friends say to me, it would be easier if my ex was dead. Or you don't know how lucky you are that your husband is dead and you don't have to deal with an ex husband. These words turn my stomach. While I don't have any idea what it's like to be divorced, I do know what it's like for my husband to be dead.  I also have many widowed friends  who  have been divorced and are now widowed.  And they are quick to say the two are not nearly the same.  In a divorce, someone made the choice to leave. And if it wasn't you that made that choice, it must hurt like hell. And yes, you grieve. You grieve your relationship, you grieve the future that you had planned, and you grieve the life that was. But it is not the same as your husband being dead. You didn't have to plan a funeral. You didn't have to know the person you love you more than anything in this world would never get to live in it again. And while in the beginning you may think it would be easier if your ex were dead, I hope you realize it isn't. Your children will still have a father. A father to be at their birthday parties. A father to come to their high school graduation. A father to be there at their wedding. A father to be there when their first child is born. As a widow, this will never happen in my life. My son's father will never be at any of those events. And even if your child and your ex have an estranged relationship, there is always hope that one day, one day they will reconcile and have a father/child bond. When your husband is dead, there is no hope. There is no hope that your child will ever get to share their dreams, their hurts, their worries, or their accomplishments with their dad. So while as a divorced person you grieve, it is not the same as being a widow. Please don't ever tell a widow I wish my ex was dead or how lucky they are because their husband is dead. Because as a widow I would give anything for my husband to be here, even if that meant he lived somewhere else. Even if that meant I never got to speak to him again. Because death is forever and I would give anything for my husband to be able to live, even if it wasn't with me.

Being a widow is forever. My husband will always be dead. If your husband travels for work, one day he will come home. My husband never will. And if you are divorced, one day you and your ex may actually be friendly and get to share the milestones of your child's life together. That will never happen for me or my son. Because my husband is dead.

I try not to take my friend's comments personally.  I know they are trying to comfort me.  I know they have no idea how I feel and I pray they never do.  Being a widow is not something I would wish on my worst enemy, let alone my friends.  And I'm certain I said insensitive things to a grieving widow before I walked on this journey, things I thought were comforting.  But if my friends can learn anything from my widow journey, I hope it's that sometimes saying nothing and just being there is all a grieving widow needs.  Because until you have been widowed, you have absolutely no idea how I feel.  And I hope you never do but if you should ever find yourself on this horrific journey, I promise to be there for you and hold your hand.

Please remember this one thing, a traveling husband or an ex husband are not the same as a dead husband.  Just as any widow.

Day of Love

As Valentine's Day approaches, I am reminded that my love story is different than most. There will be no one to buy me flowers, give me a special card, or bring me chocolates. And as I watch all the commercials on TV, see all the post on Facebook, and hear my friends talk about their special plans for the day of love, my heart aches. And then I realize, that I know what love is. Not what Hallmark says it should be, but what it truly is.

Love is holding someone on their hardest day.
Love is honoring that vow in sickness and in health.
Love is knowing the vow till death do us part is going to apply to you. And you continue to live, laugh, and love because of this knowledge.
Love is knowing that despite the pain and heartache of grief, you were blessed to know true love. And you would do it all over again.
Love is that pit in the bottom of your stomach when you know something terrible is about to happen but you face it head on anyway because your love is stronger than your fear.
Love is 3 hour drive to the hospital praying the whole way that your husband makes it. Love is looking in the eyes of my husband when he told me he was sorry that I had to watch him die.
Love is holding my husband as he took his final breath and kissing him on the forehead and promising that we would be okay.
Love is watching the person you love more than anything in this world try so hard to be brave and strong for you.
Love is holding your little boy and telling him that daddy went to heaven and then feeling his heart wrenching sobs.
Love is your friends surrounding you on the worse day of your life without you even having to ask.
Love is those same friends 17 months later still surrounding you with love.
Love is knowing that my love story will never end.
Love is knowing that I was someone's forever love.
Love is looking at my little boy and seeing his daddy.
Love is remembering Jared's laugh.  Oh, how I miss his laugh.
Love is your 11 year old son looking at you and saying I need $50 to take you out to for Valentines Day. And then laughing because you know he has no idea that without a reservation there will be no eating out on Valentines Day.
Love is the wonderful memories of past Valentine's Days.  Like the time your husband made your Valentine's card out of a paper airplane and "flew" it to you. Or the time he wrote you a poem about how he wasn't allowed to buy you flowers "Sorry no flowers this year, Dr. Baz said no".  Or the year he sent you a bouquet of your wedding roses with a note that said "Gotcha. I Love You."

So while I may not have someone on Valentines Day to wake me up, give me a kiss ,and say Happy Valentines Day,  I have a heart full of love. And even though Jared won't be here to tell me "you know this is a hallmark holiday, I love you everyday."  I will feel his love in my heart.

And so yes on this day of love I may not be celebrating in the traditional sense, but I'm still celebrating my love story. Yes, my love story is different but maybe, just maybe it's even better. Because my love story is forever.

Throwing a fit

Today is one of those days where I just want to stomp my feet, throw a fit, and just cry. But unfortunately my grown up, adult responsibilities are calling and I can't.  So instead I will go to work and suppress my frustration and grief.

I hate days like this.  Days where I think I just can't do this all alone.  Days I know it would be a hell of a lot easier if Jared were still here.  Days that I feel beaten down and my day hasn't even started.

No idea why today is such an emotional one. I had terrible, awful dreams all night long.  So I woke up feeling exhausted and empty.  Maybe that's why I'm feeling like I've been through the ringer today.

I am having some medical issues and have no one to care for me.  No one to say it will be OK.  No one to help with things at home so I can have some time to process the possibilities.  Maybe that's why today is an emotional mine field.

My son had a school project his dad would have loved but instead I am left trying to help my son all the whole knowing we both wished his dad were here.   Maybe that has taken an emotional toll on me.

Ugh, I just want to throw in the towel.  But instead I held back emotions all day and now my eyes hurt.  I need a good cry.  I need to let the emotions flow.  I need to take the time to allow this to happen so tomorrow can be a better day.  The unexpected bad days are harder for me.

Today was one of those days.  And I have no idea why.

Missing my someone

Tonight is one of those nights where my heart aches and my soul hurts in a manner words cannot describe.

I miss my husband.  I miss my love.

I miss someone to love me.  Someone to hold me.  Someone to kiss my forehead.  Someone to wrap their arms around me and say "I love you more."  Someone to snuggle me at night and then say "move over you're making me hot.". Someone to be excited to see me at the end of the day. Someone to text me  good night, I love you or good morning pretty lady.  Someone to leave me a love note for no reason.  Someone to make me feel special. Someone to share a laugh without saying a word.  Someone to sit with in a comfortable silence.  Someone to hold pinkies as we walk down the street.  Someone to put their hand on my knee as we drive in the car.  Someone to play with my hair as we snuggle up and watch a movie. Someone to get dressed up for. Someone to yell at for leaving dirty dishes in the sink.

I miss my someone.  I miss Jared.

Tonight my heart aches for a man who can never again do any of those things. A wonderful man who's time on earth was cut short.  A smart ass who now breathes easily with the angels.  A man who loved me for me; good, bad, and ugly.  A man who gave me the fairy tale.   A man who will always live in my heart and be part of my soul.  A man who I will miss until my dying day.  A man I had to let go; go to his eternal home.

Tonight my heart aches and my soul hurts because Jared and I shared a great love.  A love for which I am thankful.  A love that is worth this pain.  A love that is everlasting.

Tonight my heart hurts and that is a testimony to our love.  I miss you Jared, more than words can say.

How long to mourn?

When Jared died, I told myself I would mourn  him for two years.  I would allow myself two years to be sad and then I would try to live again.  But for 2 years, I would only grieve and mourn.  I felt I needed to set a time for how long I would mourn, for how long I would be sad.  I have no idea why I set a time limit for myself.  And two years seemed reasonable. Two years to mourn the man who had been my husband for 14 years. Two years to mourn the man who had been my love for 16 years. Two years, didn't seem very long at all, didn't seem long enough to mourn the man who had captured my heart and whose death had shattered it.

It has now been 16 months since Jared died and as I continue to mourn and grieve through year two, I realize my time frame is unrealistic.  And holding myself to that time frame isn't healthy.  That I cannot realistically end my grieving nor can I stop myself from beginning to heal.

There is so much about year one I don't even remember. There are complete days that are blanks in my memory. Days I was just doing my best to survive. There are days I got up, got dressed, took Steven to school, and want to work. I know I did this but I cannot remember doing it.  There are events I know I attended but I have no relocation of the event.  The first year my soul mourned the loss of my love in a manner words cannot describe.  My heart ached in a way I never knew was possible. And I felt this is the worst, it has to get better soon.

And then on September 17, 2015, year two began. And you know what? It wasn't really any easier. It didn't magically get better because the first year was over. My heart did not hurt less because the first anniversary had passed. Yes I survived the first year. But that is all I did. I survived. But during that survival I lost myself.  Carla, who is she?  Who am I now that my husband is dead? Yes I am a widow. But I don't want my widowhood to define me. And that is the realization I have come to at 16 months into my morning and grief.

But that realization causes me to feel guilty. Guilty that I'm not honoring my husband by being sad enough.  Guilty that I am not miserable for long enough. Guilty that I want to discover who I am now. Guilty that I want to again live and not just survive. Guilty because I get to live when my husband will never get to walk on this earth again. Guilty for having good days. Guilty for having mornings that I wake up and his loss is not my first thought.  Guilt.  It is a widow's worst enemy.

When Jared died, I wanted to die too.  I remember saying it would have been easier if God had just called us all home together. But a strange thing has happened recently.  For the first time in 16 months I want to live. Really live. Not just survive and get through each day, but live. Be happy. Laugh. Find joy in all the little things.  While I may not yet see in color, I know that day will come.  Most of my days are still shades of grey with an occasional burst of sunlight coming through. But that is progress.  For the past 16 months most of my days have been grey with no sun, no burst of light.  And now I  occasionally see the light and I know that eventually my days are going to be bright and colorful and the days of grey will be few.

Beacause of the realization that I want to live life again, I am trying to find the balance between mourning my husband and finding myself. It is a delicate balance, one I have not perfected, one that I never will.  But as I continue on in year two, I know that if I do not discover who I am now, what makes my heart sing, what truly brings me joy, that I will lose myself.  Lose myself into a life of endless guilt and grief. And that is not a life I want. That is not a life my husband would want for me. It is not a life I want my child to experience.

So now I am left trying to figure out how to mourn and grieve my husband while living.  I feel like I should have put my life on hold for two years at least. Two years, really it's not that long to honor the man who is my soulmate. When Jared first died, I thought two years would be nothing.  That I would feel sad forever.  And now I realize there is no time stamp on mourning and grief.  There is no end date, no expiration.  I could put my life on hold forever and that still wouldn't be long enough to mourn and grieve the loss of my love.

I will always grieve the loss of my husband. I will always wish that he were here. I will always think Jared would have...or your dad would be so... and those thoughts will never go away.  I will always need to mourn him.  To talk about him. To make sure he is not forgotten.  I will always be Jared's widow.  My heart will always have an empty space specifically reserved for Jared. My heart will always have a huge scar caused by his death.  But I must also discover who I am. Who am I since I became a widow?  And I have realized the two are not mutually exclusive.  And how crazy it was for me to think I could set a time limit on mourning.  I can discover who I am and venture out into this new life, while mourning my husband.  I don't need to stop grieving to start living.

Grief is a long journey. It is the worst roller coaster ride you can imagine. With unepected twists, turns, and flips.  And just when you think the ride is over, it starts again.  But instead of hanging on tight and letting the ride scare me to death, stop me from living, and make me a prisoner to my grief, I am going to throw my hands up and do my best to take the ride as it comes. I know I have a purpose. I know there is a plan for me. And this roller coaster ride of grief  is just part of the journey to get me to my destination.