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Widowed Village connects peers with each other for friendship and sharing. The moderators, administrators, and others involved in running this site are not professionals.

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Have you gotten to the point that you can see clearly?  Do you know what you need to do to march beyond the grief into a future that is full of mystery and possibilities, yet be afraid to make a move towards your goal?  

I'm at that point, I am so tired of living between worlds.  I'm tired of moods that change as easily as the tide.  However, to me, it seems it takes a whole bunch of courage to move into the great unknown.  I have never had the courage to really put myself out there to either sink or swim so to speak.  So, now that I actually have no choice (it's either learn to swim or drown) I feel entirely paralyzed and vulnerable.  How do you muster the courage move toward change?  I really am at a conundrum, as to how to take a leap of faith or where to start.  Maybe it's between God and me.  I don't know.  Hopefully, He'll shove me in the right direction, because I certainly need more than a gentle nudge.  I actually don't think taking the step has anything to do with grief. I've always lacked self-confidence.  A point in time will come (hopefully soon) that Jerry's death will catapult me into being the person I always wished I could be.  I have no other option, as I won't allow myself to drown.  For those of you who, switched gears, went back to school, took a trip, or reinvented yourself in any way,  I admire you!  I would so love the inspiration of reading your story of transformation!  (READ AS A SHAMELESS BEG FOR YOU TO SHARE)

It's really a joyous landmark to be able to see clearly with an awareness that I AM ALIVE.  There was a time when I thought I was the epitome of the walking dead. I'm sure there are many who felt the same and more to come that are still in the early fog of grief feeling only half alive. I clearly remember the utter devastation that washed over me after Jerry died.  I remember the distinct horror of feeling dead and left behind.   I suppose I'm lucky in a way; I realized pretty early on that I needn't hold on to that feeling, that I AM indeed very much ALIVE and it was actually MY choice to live with a purpose or to die a new death with each day.  That certainly doesn't mean I have to stop missing Jerry or let him go.  I'll never let Jerry go, he was very much loved and a part of who I am today.  I will, however, move forward with him in my heart.  He would expect no less.  I have never let him down while he was living, I don't see why I would let him down now of all times.  The very last thing I can do for Jerry is to honor the love HE had for ME.  Does anyone else feel the same?  How do you honor you're love/life?  I'm sure there are so many different ways to honor your past life, it's a personal thing, as we all love differently.  I ask because it has helped me grieve and feel like I've found a way to stay connected to Jerry-to think of what I can do for Jerry now and what can Jerry do for ME now.  It's important for me to find meaning in the life we had and the death of it. 

For me, LIVING with purpose and searching for personal joy is an ongoing way to keep Jerry, connected and more importantly to keep him in my heart without sadness that he isn't but instead with the same jocular feelings that his personality exuded.  If you haven't found a way to stay connected, please give it some thought.  I can't express how much better I feel now, that I'm satisfied I have an ongoing connection with my love.    

I'm including a video because it's a whole new twist on an old song and the video is a perfect match what this post is about.  Also, because I just adore this little girl.  

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Comment by bayoured on May 9, 2018 at 5:54am

I love the song you shared. I am still between times that I feel stronger and then I go to pieces. I am learning to be okay with that because it is better than where I started. I think that is what is most helpful is to know that although I am not completely on the road to healing   I am not where I was in the beginning . I am an inpatient person but grief has taught that is pointless. I will continue to ride these waves until they push me farther down the road. I know I am grateful to have found this place for comfort and support . Hopefully I will be of some comfort to others as well. Love ya girl.,

Comment by Rainy (Misty) on April 28, 2018 at 7:13pm

Thanks, Shoosie, I'm finding it easy to fall into a slump.  Sometimes I forget the best way for me to deal with it is to honor Jerry and the love we shared, also the life HE would want for me to live.

Comment by Shoosie2 on April 28, 2018 at 12:48pm

I totally get your post, Misty. I'm at the 4 1/2 month mark, and sometimes the grief war in the trenches, and the tsunami still gets me. But like you, I am not going to allow grief to win. I know that I am stuck here on this earth, but I am trying to feel gratitude every day. There were a few times, way before Rick got sick, that we would briefly talk about what we would do if the other died first. We even told each other that if one of us became terminal we would do a Thelma and Louise, but of course, that didn't happen. Rick had said that if I went first, he'd just take a handful of pills and die. But that was an off-hand remark, as we have the dogs, the house, and he had his 2 kids, both in their 30's.  He was a people person, and didn't do well being alone for too long, and while he loved living 'on his mountain', he'd get cabin fever if he didn't get out and mingle every week. Knowing that, I would tell him that if I went first, he would have to find a new life and find another lady. He always said No Way. Who knows.  But it's only me now, and I have to work towards some kind of life that will make him proud. 

My Rick's birthday was 4/19. I know I have posted before about weird electrical things and the car radio going off, which my mechanic cannot explain.  Our song was 'We Jammin' by Bob Marly, due to the fact we had an artisan marmalade and jam business. My mom was a bit of a cougar, and her significant other of 10 years was 20 years her junior. Her song was Maggie May by Rod Stewart.  I leave the radio on for the dogs when I'm at work, and the second I walked into the house on the eve of Rick's birthday, both songs came on, one after the other. When I turned on the TV, it had tuned itself to a car program that he always watched in the background while he was 'jammin'.  That channel hasn't been turned on since he passed December 20th.

I have  a landline phone - one  hand-set in the guest house, and the other in the house. Rick and I would use them as an intercom between the 2 buildings if needed. My sister, who is now at her home in Palm Springs, called me around 8 pm to check in, and the ringtone, is of course because Rick was a Brit,  God Save the Queen.  I put the phone down on the coffee table after hanging up, went into the kitchen to feed the dogs, and the intercom came on!  Short, very distinct beeps- no God Save the Queen.  Of course I picked it up, knowing no one would be on the other end, but I still said into the phone that I loved him more than life itself, and that he was, and will always be, the best thing that ever happened to me. 

Friday 4/20, I was at work telling my 5 co-workers about the songs and the phone. One of them, a woman who is relatively new, got up abruptly and came to my cubicle,  and I noted she had a somewhat anxious look on her face.  She said "I have a message for you".  Silly me, always being literal, thought  OK, give me the pink 'while you were out' message slip. She knew Rick died of cancer, but didn't know what kind or where. She asked if he died of lung cancer, and was it on the left side, because while she was at her desk, she got a heavy feeling on her left side, and she felt like she couldn't breathe.  She got those feelings as she was getting his message to me, which was  " I miss my life with you, and I will always love you. My Honey, please don't be so sad". 

And the strange thing is, since that message, I feel like a weight has been lifted- I can't explain it. Maybe it's all psychosomatic, or that I know he's still here.  I was able to sign up for 3 Meetups, and have the first outing this coming Thursday. Next Saturday is the Relay for Life, and I have 2 luminarios being lit- one for Rick, the other for my brother who died of cancer 10 years ago. I am getting my 2nd week of hands on training for rescuing and rehabbing birds of prey. All of this is very scary, but I know I have to do it to find a new life and find some new people. While I still work full time, it's not the same as having a support network. I simply must force myself, with the tiny bit of energy I have, to get out and meet new people, no matter how difficult it might be at first, and hopefully, it will become easier. I know that I will be asked about my marriage status, since one group is for singles 60 and up, but it's not a dating group- it's for socialization. I hope I can hold it together when I answer 'I am a widow'.  I'm sure there will be several who are in the same boat in this one group.

So, like you, I am balancing between 2 worlds, and not really knowing how I'll get on with finding the 'new' me and how I'll fit, but I have to do it like the grieving.....one day at a time. Doing this socializing is self-care, which I haven't been very good at lately, but baby steps.

Peace

Steph

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