No Non-alcoholic beer over here!

 I’m going to talk about grief A LOT.  It comes and goes for me, maybe it’s always underlying, I don’t know.  We’ll go with some minutes it’s in my face and some days it’s not.  I want to talk though about you and how YOU, John Q. Public, react to people like me.

Listen.  Losing a spouse is like no other grief you have EVER experienced.  Short of losing a child - I cannot speak of that.  I have not been there - God hold onto those who have!

My best friend, my partner, the person I grew up with for the last 20 years is gone.  I don’t have a person anymore to call when I get there.  No “have a great day” texts.  No “I love you” texts.  My person, my husband is six feet under the most beautiful headstone in Oakwood Cemetery.  He doesn’t say anything when I visit.  

I. I don’t even know how old I am.  Well…except this year, I guess I do.  I can do the math.  But, he’s not here to give me a party I don’t want, or cook me a steak and bake me a potato.  I don’t cook anymore because it’s too hard to cook for just me and too sad to eat by myself.  I don’t grill.  That was Jeremy’s job.

I have little movies in my mind places we went, our wedding, conversations, telling him he was a daddy, arguments we had, him blowing me a kiss from the ambulance to him lying dead on a gurney in the hospital and me waiting for him jump up to scare me and it to all be a cruel joke.

It’s not.

He’s dead.

It’s been a year.

Sometimes, I catch myself, in the mornings, checking the clock, thinking - 6:35…he should be here anytime…

And…I remember.

So I ask you to remember.

My brains are not right right now.  We widows don’t think how we used to, process how we used to, react how we used to, remember like we used to.  If it involves memory - we do not have it.  I don’t know if it comes back.  I miss my brains so much. 

I had a stutter/stammer before, when I was nervous.  Or I’d repeat myself.  Some of you may remember how BAD is was right after Jeremy died.  I actually REALLY scared Jacob. I do revert to that still when I’m tired or scared.  

I forget words.  My vocabulary is well versed. I am a reader.  I forget words.  Often.  You get the closest one that comes to me.  You can help me but, please don’t correct me, or question my use of a word.  I might come back and correct myself - I might not.  There is no need to be a keyboard warrior and pick me apart.  I could pounce your their/there/they’re all day.  I don’t.  Know I’m giving you my best and let’s move on.  If you think I’m being a dick, ask me, have I ever not told you?

The filter is broken.  We are so into ‘say what you have to say because you might not have the chance again’ we often leave our tact at the door.  We don’t mean to be rude, we just have all of our emotions on our sleeves and we forget. (See above).  Also, me being rude and me being a dick are not the same.  If I’m rude, I’m probably pissed.  

We are emotional AF.  We don’t know what will bring the tears or the laughs or the laughs to the tears!  I was bawling in Culver’s the other night because - what if the new guy I haven’t even met yet doesn’t like my chili the way Jeremy liked it?  For real.  

We try so hard to be strong and we’re not. 

We don’t want help but, we do need it and most times we HATE to ask.  

Head space is strange.  The car is so hard sometimes and I don’t know when that’ll hit.  Being alone too long in the car is hit or miss for me. I can be ok or I can overthink myself down a rabbit hole.

I struggle with other people.  I’m ok with people who know me well, people who know my story or people who have experienced loss but, I don’t do well anymore with disingenuine people, entitled people, rude people.  Life is too short for that.  And you have not experienced enough life.

Life is too short, guys   Life is way too short.   I have no room in my life for petty disagreements, shitty friendships, fake people, and non-alcoholic beer. 

That’s all!  ❤️

The Grief Support Thing...

I posted on Facebook often in the days/months after Jeremy's death as I knew, even then that I'd want to remember the events and how I felt.  I wasn't sure at that time how I'd use them, I just knew I wanted to document them in some way.

The first few months were - I don't know a word harder than hard.  It hurt to breathe.  I'm pretty sure I was on autopilot.  Wake up, kid to school, work, get a kid from school, sleep and repeat.  I'm not sure what else was in there besides cry, cry, and cry some more.  My friends and my family tried so hard to help and they did but, until you have experienced the loss of a spouse, there is no measure.  I have lost siblings, I have lost parents and grandparents - I pray to not lose my child as that could be the only thing worse.   The grief is the same - it was the loss they weren't understanding. They didn't see what I now had to face all alone. Anyway, everyone tried hard but, when the day was done, it was still me, my hurt and God. 

I did what I knew.  I cried and I prayed.  I prayed as hard as I cried and I cried as hard as I prayed.  I fell asleep crying.  I fell asleep praying.  I prayed to heal.  I prayed for deals - just send him back and I'll go back to church...anything.  Yeah.  My eyes felt like sandpaper.  I cried more and I prayed more.

I knew I needed some help.  I didn't know where to look.  Talk therapy is a great and wonderful thing.  It truly is and I'm not above it.  Finding a good therapist is hard.  And...sometimes, talk therapy isn't it, isn't enough.  Especially when you're me...and you can hear or speak with those from the other side.  Finding a therapist adds another dimension - literally!  Here I am, I need help, my normal channels aren't working as I'm clogged with a dead husband, my last talk therapist was a $600 waste, and I don't have insurance!  

A local hospice was offering a grief support group on their website, and I was really excited to meet.  I called the office to confirm the meeting.  "Yep.  6:00PM.  Tonight."  I got there, with my little notebook and my favorite pen.  I was so ready to meet people who know what it was like to be a widow, like me!  I was early. I was the only car in the parking lot.  I waited.  I waited.  10 minutes after it was supposed to start and I was still the only car.  20 minutes...still just me.  Oh, the tears!  I couldn't believe no one showed.

I sobbed.  All the way home.  

That was one year ago, today.  Since then, the local funeral home where Jeremy's service was held has started a grief support group.  I went to the first meeting.  I am grateful to Pastor Ronnie for starting the group.  I hope the next widows passing through attend and find the support they need.  I think, for me, the time has passed when I needed the most support.  I find now, the best support is in the women who have survived widowhood past me - 2 years, 3 years...those who have given love another chance, those who have chased after a dream, those who have kept on without crying every spare moment that are enjoying life with a smile on their faces.  The ones who are involved in their families, their communities and are committed to making the best of their time.  I can't do the so sad grieving by so many all at once.  It's too much for me and my empathetic heart to take.

This week's group was partnered with a local pregnancy support group on infant/pregnancy loss.  I'm pretty well past all that.  Like 17 years past...

As for me, and the grief group? It's still too early to tell.  Depending on the topic, I'd go back.  I struggle with the folks that seem comfortable in their grief.  The ones that are a few years in and still can't seem to move forward.  Losing Jeremy hit me hard.  Knocked me down a few pegs.  I can't stay in my grief though.  I have to get back up.  I have to go at life again.  It might take me a few tries but, I can't stay down.

I have my family and friends that check up/check in and I am braver at calling someone when I need help.  I'm not shy anymore.  And all of them are great at answering.

I did find a wonderful talk therapist who helped through many issues with my in-laws, Jacob, work, addiction questions, - she was pre-cancer.  I also worked with an intuitive healer post-cancer who was AMAZING!  She helped clear up my momma issues and a bunch of childhood trauma I was carrying.  I still have both their numbers!  I also have an OUTSTANDING PCP that is primarily concerned about my mental health, as well as an oncology team who is well aware of my situation and keeps tabs with my PCP to make sure I'm getting the best care all around.  It takes a village, y'all!

And now?  I'm enjoying my year and a half with Jacob still in school.  I enjoy supporting him in the fire department.  I am enjoying working part time and spending as much time as I can with my family and friends.  I am still working through "widow brain" and trying to pick up old hobbies - I'd love to get back to making blankets for Project Linus again.  Every day I'm healing and moving forward.  I'm hoping the more time passes, the faster the healing.

And Hear The Angels Sing

 I don't remember the last time I went to church for Sunday service.  I had messaged with a friend about going but, I knew I wasn't strong enough to go at Christmas.  It was too hard already...before, when I just missed my dad.

I got up this morning and I decided to just go.  I was having my coffee, and a lady cardinal showed up at our feeder.  It's been awhile since they have been here, I figured the male would be along and sure enough, bright red as ever, he arrived.  I knew I was supposed to go today.  I got dressed and I went.

I wasn't nervous.  I wasn't afraid. I forgot my tissues.  I saw familiar faces right as I got inside the door, and with a few hugs, I knew it was good to be back.  I took a seat and waited for it the service to start.

Their Christmas service had been cancelled due to weather, they had a substitute pastor and all the Christmas hymns caught in my throat and I could only manage the prayers for a bit.  And I wasn't quite sure what I was doing there.

When the First Reading came up on the board, I had an idea.

The people walking in darkness

    have seen a great light;

on those living in the land of deep darkness

    a light has dawned.

You have enlarged the nation

    and increased their joy;

they rejoice before you

    as people rejoice at the harvest,

as warriors rejoice

    when dividing the plunder

For as in the day of Midian's defeat,

    you have shattered

the yoke that burdens them,

    the bar across their shoulders,

    the rod of their oppressor.

Every warrior's boot used in battle

    and every garment rolled in blood

will be destined for burning,

    will be fuel for the fire.

For to us a child is born,

    to us a son is given,

    and the government will be on his shoulders.

And he will be called

    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,

    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace,

Or the greatness of his government and peace

    there will be no end.

He will reign on David's throne

    and over his kingdom,

establishing and upholding it

    with justice and righteousness

    from that time on and forever.

The zeal of the Lord Almighty

    will accomplish this.

Isaiah 9: 2-7

"People walking in darkness have seen a great light" WHAT??  "On those living in the land of darkness a light has dawned" WHAT???  WHAT???  That's me!  He's talking about me!  I have been living the last year in the land of darkness and here I am on the first day of a new year and you're telling me "light has finally dawned"?  WTF?  Really?  I have been waiting for light for so long.  And I feel it!

Okay.  1st clue.

It's going ok.  I check the time.  10:29.  I smile.  10:29 on the clock is my sign from my sister Valerie.  It's her sign for me that she is with me.  Of course, it drew a smile,

Thank you for the 2nd clue.

I'm not following the bulletin as I normally would, just following along, finding comfort in the familiarity of the prayers I learned as a child when I hear the beginning notes of my most dreaded Christmas hymn.  "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear" - ugh.  And I had no tissues.  It was my Dad's favorite and the tears just roll every time BUT today!  I didn't cry.  The frog in my throat made sure I couldn't sing but, I read all the words in my head and we got to verse 3 and I got the message again!

All ye beneath life's crushing load

Whose forms are bending low

Who toil along the climbing way

With painful steps and slow

Look now for glad and golden hours

Come swiftly on the wing

O rest beside the weary road

And hear the angels sing

And hear the angels sing

In all my life, I have never heard these words.  All the times my Dad sung this, I have never heard these words.  It's time to rest beside the weary road and hear the angels sing.  It's time.

My angels all showed up today, Jeremy in my cardinal at the feeder, my sister at 10:29 - letting me know she was there like always.  God/Jesus telling me that my walk in darkness is done - the dawn is here and my dad, using that hymn that I HATE to bring me a new message.

Oh, and I talked to a few fellow widows today and I'm going to get together with them as well.

Finally, one year and one month after Jeremy died, I can hear my angels singing!