Things change, yet they stay the same

Gone – flitted away. Taken the stars from the night and the sun from the day!

Gone, and a cloud in my heart.

~Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Ethan, today, as I recognize the 4th anniversary of your death, as always, you are missed with every fiber of my being.

Even after so many years have passed, I continue to seek that peaceful place here on earth, somewhere I might rest my battered heart. I teeter dangerously upon the thin, dilapidated fence separating the stillness from the chaos, the horrible – yet familiar – pain of the past and the frightening uncertainty of the future.

You were my calm before a very dark and most perfect storm. Years alone in a sea of change have left me discombobulated, terrified of each and every passing cloud. Yet for that I have become wiser. I have finely honed survival skills that I could not have attained any other way. I have learned to embrace the small things of beauty, little moments of joy. Those are the things that matter. For the wise know to take the small things of beauty and little moments of joy and knit them together. You’ll have something wonderful to wrap yourself up in when the weather turns cold. It may even be big enough to share with those who stood around waiting for the big explosion of happiness to come while letting those small and seemingly insignificant moments pass right under their noses. Ah, yes… Those storm clouds have silver linings…

Now that I am once again safe upon friendly shores I’m trying to get it together. How can something that unravelled so quickly take so very long to untangle and put back together again? And you know what? It doesn’t matter which way I put it all back together, I can’t make it look like it once did. I’ve tried so many times that I’ve lost count. And therein lies one of the most important lessons. I’ve stopped expecting it to look or feel or be the same. It is impossible. But I *think* it can be good. I sure hope that I am right…

As I carry on with my life here – for however long I might be granted the privilege – know that you are always with me. I may not carry you on my sleeve as I did throughout the earlier years, rather, I’ve learned to comfortably carry you in my heart, deeply embedded in the softest places of my soul – which is where the most beautiful and cherished memories belong.

My love for you is endless, and my hope is that you are in a wonderfully peaceful place….

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end

It’s been quite some time since I posted anything new in this blog.  There are many reasons for this which I won’t bore you with, however, the biggest reason is that, well, I’ve gotten to a place where my “new discoveries” regarding my grief journey have simply gotten fewer and further in between.

It’s not that there aren’t any.  I think they will continue to pop up from time to time, perhaps, for the rest of my days.  However, I find that as time goes on, my interest, my attention is far more focused on my life, as opposed to my late husband’s death.

And that’s a good thing, right?  I mean, that’s where we all hope to find ourselves at some point along our journey.  Probably the main reason why we bother to stay the course I would think…

I love interacting with all of my widow friends and I love sharing what I’ve experienced, what I’ve learned, what I continue to learn with those both on the journey, and those with open eyes and a willing mind who simply wish to understand.  And I will continue to do that, mostly on Facebook (R.I.S.E. on Facebook) and via twitter, as well as through the R.I.S.E. Young Widow & Widower Peer Support Groups, which I am happy to report continues a slow, but steady growth.

I will also continue to post here from time to time as I see necessary, it just won’t be as frequently as I have in the past.  And I will also be posting more links to other “widda” blogs that I find enjoyable, insightful, helpful and/or absolutely essential reads (feel free to recommend a blog).

With all that said, I still welcome your comments and questions – I will still regularly moderate this blog.

I have thought long and hard about this decision because so much of my heart has been poured out here over the past few years.  That and, well, I don’t want it to seem as if I am abandoning those who have supported me, or those who are newly walking this dreadful journey.  I just feel that, for me personally, the time has come to shift the focus of my writing.  And I have decided that the new year is the perfect time to do so.

So beginning January 1, 2011, I will have a new blog, where – although grief, I think, is ever present – the focus will be less about loss, and more about life.  Perhaps the best combination of both of my blogs – “Changing Lanes” and “R.I.S.E.”, with a lot of “life in general” and some humor thrown in for flavor – the good, the bad, the ugly,  and all points in between.

You can take a gander at the new blog here

I hope that you all like it.  And I hope those of you who have been so gracious as to walk this road with me will continue to support the new blog the way that you have supported this one.  For without many of you, this may have been – no, NO this would definitely have been a much darker, far more lonely path.

I am grateful to ALL of you for reading and supporting.  Wishing you all peace, hope and happiness for the coming year.

Onward and upward!

It gets curiouser and curiouser

Time, time, time…

Who would have thought that I would learn something valuable by watching my 5 year old surf the internet?

Yesterday morning while observing her playing a game on a kids’ web-site, I noticed how she handled the “download time” by enthusiastically counting down with the timer on the screen.  It was as if the waiting was just as much a part of the fun as the actual game that she was waiting on.

She danced in her seat and yelled out in her happy, high-pitched little voice: “13… 12… 11… 10…….”.

Which got me thinking about how we react when we (you know, us grown ups) have to wait for things in our lives.

I can honestly say that you are highly unlikely to catch me counting down enthusiastically while I wait for something to download, you know, actually utilizing the time in a positive way, making something good, or fun, out of something, well, at best annoying.  I’m more likely to be found tapping my fingers (or a foot) in frustration at having been forced to wait (I mean, this is the digital age, right? Can’t someone do something about all this unnecessary waiting??)

Think about it: Have we been so programmed toward “convenience” that having to wait – even mere seconds – becomes a really negative event?  If waiting for a few seconds for a download – or someone to pull out of a parking space/get out of their car/merge on to the freeway/pay for their groceries – where does that leave us in dealing with things that take much longer – say, weeks, months or even years?

I know I have (more than once) simply skipped (or at least attempted to skip) that which I am forced to wait for if I feel something is taking too long to happen.  I’ve done this at times without even fully knowing what it is I might be passing by in my impatience: perhaps I might be skipping past some interesting knowledge or perhaps a simple smile… a great laugh… an opportunity to grow… a valuable life lesson… perhaps a great personal connection – all of which are positives.  Instead, I give in to the negative energy of my impatience and move on believing that much easier, much faster gratification awaits elsewhere.

Much more importantly, consider the time our hearts need to heal from loss or major, perhaps unwanted, change.   Working within the old adage “time heals all wounds”, we shuffle ourselves into a sort of proverbial “waiting room”.  And while time is a very important component in healing, an often overlooked fact is this: how you choose to spend that time is as important as the time itself.  Will you spend the time taking in positive activity – self-healing, soothing activities, or helping and positively impacting others (which often translates into a healing activity for oneself), will you seek the lessons to be found in your loss – looking at your loss, as utterly painful as it is, as something to learn and potentially grow from, or perhaps, will you seek out positive inspiration from others, to connect with those who have hurt similarly?  Or, rather, will you give away your energy to more negative thoughts/ideas/activities, languishing away, angrily, in that really really uncomfortable chair?

That which has energy, has life.

That which you give your energy to is more likely to manifest in your life.

So, as of today I will take the lead of my 5 year old.  As time inevitably ticks along during my healing journey, I will look for ways to actively do something good with the time my heart needs to heal.  I will put my energy in to the positive in the hopes that I will reap positive rewards and perhaps even have a positive impact on myself and those around me.

 

Grief and Justice (survey)

I’m currently conducting a survey in order to gather information for an upcoming article that I am writing.

If you are a widow or widower whose spouse died as a result of a crime or accident caused by another person, please take a moment to participate in my brief survey about justice and grief.

Thank you very much in advance!

Grief and Justice Survey

Tell it like it is: Say what you mean, mean what you say…

“The difference between the right word and almost the right word, is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug”. ~ Mark Twain.

The responsibility of being understood lies on the shoulders of the one who is attempting to communicate the message.  Choose your words wisely, otherwise, do not be disappointed when the person who is on the receiving end of your communication fails to understand your message.

Conversely, no one has the ability to understand something which you refuse to communicate.  People are not mind readers; if you want someone to understand you, open your mouth and let them know what you want them to know…

Good day.

Widowhood SUX

Check out Widowhood SUX.  Oh, you’re a widow, too?  See how you can  Contribute.

Because widowhood really SUX…

Memorial Day

This Memorial Day, take the time to remember the fallen, those who have made the ultimate sacrifice.  And, please, show your support for those loved ones – wives, husbands, children, mothers, fathers, siblings, friends – that are left behind in the wake of military loss.  Regardless of your political affiliation or your position on our current military actions, there is no greater quality of man than that of the selfless act of service and self sacrifice to benefit the greater good.

A few recomended Memorial Day links

CNN Home and Away

PBS National Memorial Day Concert

History.com History of Memorial Day (3:37)

American Widow Project

Military.com Memorial Day

“Goodnight then: sleep to gather strength for the morning. For the morning will come. Brightly will it shine on the brave and true, kindly upon all who suffer for the cause, glorious upon the tombs of heroes. Thus will shine the dawn.” ~ Winston Churchill

What’s new Wednesday….

I’m excited to let you all know that I am now a contributor to the wonderful website Open to Hope.

Some of the articles posted will be blog posts you’ve read here, but I intend to create original content that I hope they will post as well.

You can view my page, and check out all of the wonderful articles and other goodies from their sight HERE

Thanks for all of your support, everyone, it means the WORLD to me!

www.opentohope.com

No one believed the water would come

No one could have predicted what happened here in Nashville this weekend.  Unrelenting rains over a 48 hour period finally stopped, but Mother Nature was not finished.  As the waters ran off from hills and ditches into creeks and from creeks into rivers, the peaceful, lazy rivers that wind through this wonderful city began to rise.  And they rose, and they rose until they rose beyond their banks and overtook cars, homes, highways.  For several days we stayed glued to our televisions watching ground and arial coverage of boat rescues and trying to wrap our collective minds around what, exactly, was going on.  Our 100 year flood plain was in the midst of a 500 year flood.

When the sun finally appeared and the temperatures rose, we began to hear the stories; stories of of loss, of fear.  We heard from families who’d lost loved ones and families who’s loved ones were still unaccounted for.  But what we saw mostly were people who had finally been granted permission to return to their homes, only to find that everything they owned had been destroyed by those very swollen rivers.  It was in listening to these people tell their stories – of total loss of all of their possessions, and destruction of homes and businesses – that I was struck by one very common and unexpected theme.

Gratitude.

One after another the various news channels would interview people as they tore walls to the studs, as they piled all their waterlogged, now worthless belongings, a lifetime’s worth of items, and one after another they would each say the same thing: although they were sad about the items or homes they had lost, they were grateful, for they were here.  And, ultimately, they would get through this and things would be good again.

I am amazed at this… phenomenon.  And very inspired by it.

I have discussed (ad nauseam) my belief that in every life event there are lessons.  In the beginning, to be honest, when the rivers began their rapid ascent my first thought was that I had just moved here to get away from negativity and the distress I felt following Ethan’s death, and now I’m surrounded by disaster – literally!  But as I continued to watch, to listen, I began to realize that there were several positive lessons in what was happening to my newly adopted city.  The two most prevalent are those regarding the value and spirit of community and, most importantly, gratitude.

I am grateful that my family and I are safe and well and our home is dry.  I am grateful for the ability to be here to witness this community come together and take care of one another, and already, 5 days from the worst flooding, already working together toward rebuilding this beautiful city.  People from other towns have descended on our devastated neighborhoods to pass out water, popsicles, even bagged lunches to volunteers working tirelessly in near 90 degree heat to clear out flooded homes.  It’s an incredible thing.

Although the home of the Grand Old Opry was hard hit by the flooding, last night and tonight the Opry went on as planned, albeit in a temporary location.  Tonight the symphony filled the open air with the beautiful sound of music in a free performance downtown.  Broadway, with all of it’s Honkey Tonks, is coming back to life.  Tomorrow the annual Steeplechase will go on as scheduled.  All of these things giving the people of Nashville necessary moments of normalcy and enjoyment.  And further solidifies the idea that while Nashville might be down, it is, by no means, going to be kept down for long.

During the worst moments this weekend and earlier this week I felt isolated and afraid.  I felt for the first time that I never should have left Los Angeles and the safety of my friends and all that unceasing sunshine, after all, this southern California girl knows nothing of flooded basements! But as I watched the days go by and the situation evolve, I began to realize that maybe I’m supposed to be here, that there was much to learn here.  Much I need to learn here…

Yes, I think I am exactly where I am supposed to be.  Right here in this determined, resilient town.  And I am grateful that I now call this town my town.

Tell it like it is

I am the new National Widowhood Correspondent for Examiner.com.

You can find my articles on my Examiner Page

Or, you can go directly to my current article: Redefining your life after loss, nature’s way