Dealing With the Mother of All Milestones: My Grief...It Is A-Changin'....

So, I feel like there is plenty of gloom and doom on widow blogs and, usually, as milestones approach, I’m one of those widows who’s gloomin’ and doomin’.

But not this year.

I always think it’s important to write about the things that we’re all trying to overcome because it usually makes at least one person out there sigh with relief and think, “Thank God it’s not just me.”

But as milestones approach, I know that some widows out there read these blogs with a little apprehension because they’re only a year out and the person writing is 10 years out, still talking about how hard Mondays are because that’s the day of the week her husband died.  And it worries the “newbies” because they’re still just trying to remember to put on deodorant in the morning and they live in fear that they'll still be that way in a decade.

I’ve never hidden the fact that my husband’s birthday is usually the hardest day of the year for me.  I have been known to go completely crazy, cry, yell, wallow, break up with perfectly nice people, and generally go around the bend for a good month before it happens.  November 19^th is right before the holidays get into full swing and usually by the time it’s done…I am in no mood for eating turkey, being thankful, or yuletiding a few weeks later.

Last year was more of the same.  I dreaded it, feared it, and generally just wanted it to go away.  I have spent the last 4 of my husband’s birthdays, creating a “Daddy Day” for my kids, taking them out of school for a day of junk food and frivolous activities…with a trip to the cemetery up in the mountains where he’s buried thrown in for good measure.  Of anything I have done, trying to raise my kids in theWiddahood…this is what I’m most proud of.  Daddy’s birthday is nothing to dread (for them) and something to look forward to.  Sure, they don’t have a dad like everyone else…but everyone else doesn’t get to have a Daddy Day.

So for one day out of the year…we can one-up the rest of the “normal” world.

I usually spend the day holding back tears and trying to curb my crankiness while they run around on a sugar high and thank God for a Dad who gets them out of school one day out of the year.

But this year has been different.

It’s the 5^th birthday he’s been gone…and I don’t feel all of the crankiness.  I’m not feeling the usual build up.  It may be hard that day…but I can honestly say that I feel pretty good right now.  What has been most interesting to me this year is that I now know that my kids really do understand the significance of that day.  Before I was trying to do so many things to distract them while also trying to commemorate the day (we do all of the things their dad enjoyed doing) and I really didn’t think they completely understood what it all meant.

Silly, Mom.  We’re getting older and we’re not as clueless as we might seem.

My son has a birthday party on Saturday in the middle of the day.  And at one point, he really considered not going.

“Am I going to miss Daddy Day?”  He asked.

“No,” I said.  “We’ll just go get pizza, let our balloons go, and maybe go to the movies that night when the party is done.  The girls and I won’t do anything without you.”

“But what about going to the mountains?”  He asked, looking concerned.

“Oh sweetie, we won’t have time to do that on Saturday since the party is in the middle of the day.”

Long pause.

“Do you want to go on Sunday?”  I asked.

“Yes.”

I was pretty damn proud of us all that moment.  That I had created a day that we can spend together doing something as a family…my husband would have loved that.  And that, 4 years later, beyond the pizza, the bowling, the movies, or whatever else we might do…that the most important thing about Daddy Day to his 7-year-old son is that we go and visit him…even if it means missing out on a birthday party.

On my husband’s 39^th birthday, our 5^th without him…I can honestly say that life is good.

That the kids are thriving.

That every time one of them accidentally lets a balloon go when we leave Red Robin…there are no tears because it means it’s going to Dad.

That even though he died when they were just babies…they seem determined that he will never be forgotten.

theWiddahood.com Retreat: Tennessee's Band of Merry Widows

Ever since I left theWiddahood.com Retreat in Tennessee, I’ve been thinking about how to write this blog.  I actually thought it would come easily because so many things happened over the weekend.  But then I realized that this weekend wasn’t just a “story”….

It was an experience.  

I’ll be honest with you…I actually thought the weekend was shaping up to be a complete disaster.  After planning this retreat so easily (it seemed like everything I needed just fell into my lap…the Inn, the coach for the Saturday afternoon session, dinner reservations…everything), all of it seemed to start unraveling just a couple of days before.

A blizzard hit Denver and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to get out.  It was raining like crazy in TN, making it impossible to put together one of the activities I had planned on.  My luggage got lost.  To the amusement of the workers at the Tri-Cities Regional Airport, I got into the wrong rental car and was frustrated when I couldn’t get my key to turn (yes…I AM that flaky).  And then upon arriving at the Inn, I received the message that the coach for Saturday’s session might not be able to make it…because her husband had been in a car accident.

Which put the blizzard, rain, luggage, and silly rental car experience into perspective.

At this point, I just let it go.  It occurred to me…who understands things not going quite as planned like another widow?  And I decided that instead of harping on the little petty, annoying things that had happened…I was going to have the great weekend I knew was possible.

On Friday, the clouds cleared and the sun came out.  My wonderful coach that I had booked found an amazing woman to back her up.  And the attendees for the retreat started trickling in.

You have to understand…it takes a lot of guts to do something like this.  To book a weekend with a group of strangers and just take the leap of faith that it will all work out (and that you won’t have to have your friend call in with a “sick cat” story to get you out of the weekend), takes a tremendous amount of courage.  But another thing you have to understand is that the people who are coming…it’s a special group.  They’re the kind of people who just might take that leap of faith with you.

And you can’t get better than that.

We met for dinner on Friday night at a little place that served amazing Cuban food.  The group started warming to each other and by the time everyone sat down with a glass of wine in front of the fire in the parlor of the Inn, I thought I heard something.

Click.

These strangers suddenly started laughing and talking as if they’d known each other for years.  Confidences were revealed, memories were shared, and our upstairs neighbors were awakened.  By the time we made it to our “ice breaker” activity the next morning…we had not only already broken the ice…

…we were swimming together.

Things that we had never admitted to anyone were met with understanding nods and sympathetic tears.  Difficult times and happy memories intertwined until they meshed together into one, big story of our lives.  Determination seemed to be the running theme as we all decided together that our widowhood would not be our ultimate defining experience and that life is out there…just waiting for us.

Together we figured out that the only thing worth regretting in life is not eating an entire pie when you have the chance.

That widowhood can happen to anyone, at any age, but then again…so can life-long friendships.

That only another widow will not even blink an eye when you explain how you know your loving husband visited you from the great beyond…because you got a whiff of an unexplainable cow patty in your yard.

That wishes have the ability to fly.

To my Band of Merry Widows from Tennessee…last week I thought of you as “attendees.”

But now you’re friends I will never forget.

Special Thanks To:

Maria at The Eureka Inn

Linda Poland with Positive Solutions

Molly Catron

And our wonderful, unexpected photographer (and Daughter of the Year) who took our group shots:  Carolyn Bild

Just in Time for the Holidays....The Sky Mall

Just in case some of you are starting to have that pre-holiday panic about what to buy your loved ones this year...I have some suggestions for you.

Now, this is what happens when you are sitting on a plane in the middle of the night, knowing that you don't have the attention span for a book.

That's right.

Sky Mall.

So here you go, my friends.  Just a few things to get you thinking about what the people in your life might like.  (It might also make you glad that you are not on my shopping list for the holidays.)

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For those of you who have had the life-long dream of talking with your elbows, allow me to present to you...

...The Frog Hoody.  Now, he's looking pretty proud in this picture and I'm starting to wonder how much Lithium she had to take before she put that on and started flapping her elbows.  But...to each their own.  (Just an FYI...these also come in Triceratops, Meerkat, Bear, Gecko, Dragon, and T-Rex.  I just didn't want you to not get it because your sister isn't a "frog" kind of person.)

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Now, because I've noticed lately that it's just plain TACKY when my dog drinks out of the regular toilet...I have decided that this might be the answer:

It just drives me nuts when I hear her lapping it up in the bathroom.  I would much rather this be on the mat that I have for her in the kitchen.

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You have no idea how much I wish I had had this while the kids were getting toilet trained:

Yup.  The Grim Reaper Bath Tissue Tyrant.  Because nothing says "you better wipe thoroughly" like a decomposing toilet paper holder.

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So I was cleaning my cat's litter box the other day and it suddenly occurred to me:  "WHY don't I have a plant on top of this????"  You can imagine how relieved I was when I came across...

The Hidden Litter Box.  Now I don't have to worry about my cat's unsightly litter box!  No one will ever see it under the fake ficus tree planted on top.  GENIUS!

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And finally (and golly...I hope my mom's not going to read this because it will really spoil the surprise I have for her)....

The Bigfoot Garden Yeti Statue (is that redundant?  Any Yeti experts out there?).  This statue comes in several sizes and really says "welcome" to any home.  As it says in the Sky Mall catalog:  "...our more than two-foot-tall Garden Yeti Statue will have guests doing a double-take as they admire your creative decor style!"



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