Author: thejourneyofalioness

Grief is not predictable. It’s the oddest and the toughest thing one goes through. At first it is a challenge just to breathe most of us liken it to being in the ocean with waves pounding you during the worst storm ever. Then slowly, ever so slowly everything calms down. What happens next is the most unexpected thing, well it was for me anyways. I noticed about a month later that our lives began to have a pattern. Friday through Tuesday day everything went pretty normal, well as normal as you can be after a spouse passes away. From Tuesday evening through Thursday night life was extremely hard. That is where the waves of grief would once again pound the shit out of us. The kids felt it even, we just started hating Thursday completely. Why Thursday? Simple, it was the day we were use to him coming home. When he was alive it was the best day of the week, he came home and we couldn’t wait to see him. The knowing that there would never again be a race to the door to see him to get another embrace from him washed over us and so Thursday became the worst day of the week. As time has passed, Thursdays became Thursdays again, but now we come to a date the 25th of every month. It is now the calendar that we watch as the year anniversary creeps closer and closer to us. It seems like now instead of a few days per week we are now down to one week out of the month. It starts around the 21st and really crashes down on us by the 25th. I wish I could explain what this is like for us, all I know is that it happens. The waves just have gotten less.

Notice I say less, not smaller, the grief still hits very hard and it is still hell. I had someone ask me the other day how I was. Okay it was my counselor but it wasn’t the usual “How are you doing?”, it was the real how are you doing. For the first time in a very long time it felt real when he asked. And I said I was doing okay, and I am, but I haven’t been great. I thought I was, but something happened that completely showed me I wasn’t. I learned very quickly that I wasn’t in the place I thought I was, and I was kidding myself to think I was. What I had been doing was finding anything and everything to distract myself from dealing with Ed’s death. I had told myself that I had grieved enough, that I was honestly going through the process. Reality was, I wasn’t. I went until I was so exhausted that I could no longer fight back the tears and then I would spend hours crying in my shower or in my room. Then I would tell myself that, that was me processing everything and grieving. It’s not, I knew it wasn’t, and it wasn’t until I said it out loud to my best friend that it was true. What I had been doing was wrong, and it is time to fix it.

It is time for me to get through the hard days of grief. My counselor said most people don’t even start really grieving until the second year. At first I thought well that’s not me, but reality is that is me. I’m just three short months away from the one year anniversary and I am just now realizing that I have done nothing but press the fast forward button on life and tried to skip steps. My friends I am telling you, there is no fast forward button. No matter how far into the future I look, I cannot move forward without going through the grieving process. I have taken steps but from what I can tell only two, and some days I think I step backwards. It is not a race to get done, it is a journey to heal, and I needed help doing that. I thank God for my counselor. If you don’t have one, get one. I am no where near the mountain top here, but I am finally ready to start my journey. Life will be good again, I just have to stop skipping steps. One day the waves will be smaller and they will no longer drown me. They will never stop, that is the reality. But they will get smaller.

-Dee

We spend a better part of our lives in waiting. In lines for all kinds of things, it starts as kids waiting our turn on the playground. We learn at a young age how to watch a clock. We wait for recess, for lunch, and for the last bell of the day. As we grow the things we wait for changes. That first kiss, the first time to drive, finally going to college and being on our own. Then suddenly as adults we wait on things like getting married having kids and careers. Our lives are filled with waiting.

Death does something to us when it comes to waiting. I have waited my entire life to travel. My husband traveled all the time, and once he got home he wanted to go nowhere. After he passed I decided to no longer wait. My best friend and I decided that it was time to do what we longed for. Travel. To Vegas. Now I know it is so cliche to go to Vegas. Yet here we are in our forties and neither one of us has ever been. So I found a really cool package, three days two nights at Caesar’s Palace and tickets to see Bon Jovi in a Storytellers concert and a show at Caesars. Then we had to wait three months for the day for us to leave. It felt like the longest three months ever. Like knowing you have the best Christmas gift ever but it’s only October. So we do what women do, we plan the outfits. Shopping was so much fun and it was a great distraction to all the other shit I was dealing with. Suddenly I was less than a week away from my trip and something happened. I had been working with my counselor and we talked about dating. It had only been six months since Ed had passed but I hate being alone. Not having anyone to talk to in the evenings someone to just share my day with. So without telling my counselor I joined Tinder. Let me tell you what I learned that there are some crazy people out there. Most were nice, all were just looking for a hook up. No thank you. I did enjoy reading the different profiles. One man said that for his occupation he was “the resident nudists at your place.” I laughed out loud at that and it makes me smile even to this day. When I finally told my counselor he suggested another site that would be much better for someone like me. I won’t say which one, just know this site was a much better fit for me. I quickly met someone and I will tell our story one day soon, but know that having someone to share the trip with and to talk to was priceless.

If you have never stayed at Caesar’s Palace, do so. It was exactly what I expected it to be. We were treated like VIP and it was wonderful. The rooms were beautiful and so were the views. The shopping was perfect and for the first time in months I relaxed. We did some of the things we wanted, but with the concert we couldn’t get everything in. The storyteller concert was amazing. It was a limited number of tickets sold. Only 500 in attendance. There was not a bad seat and to be able to ask him questions was thrilling. I had three months to think about what question I would ask. I play guitar and sing so I wanted a question that would encourage him to tell an actual story. If you read my blog any at all you know that I was raised with a musician and married one. So the question came easily. As a player you learn that all guitars have personalities and once you bond with one, it is your go to. When you learn something new, when you write, when you just need to play to just feed your soul. So my question was simple, “What is your go to guitar? When you are at home and just need to play, what do you play on?” The story that came with that was amazing! It was a long one and made people laugh. It was the perfect personal question. Just so you know if you ever see him in concert and he pulls out a black acoustic Takamine with the initials SC 95 in the top left side. Those are the initials of the man that taught him how to play and the year that he passed away. A good story indeed. I loved his last statement to us, “So when it comes to choosing a guitar, I fist ask it if it is going to tell me a story. Some do and some are bitches.”

Having the rest of the weekend opened we decided that since we were so close we fitting the Hoover Dam and the Grand Canyon in as well. Some of my other post have Grand Canyon pictures in them. The place was so spiritual for me. I found a beautiful spot to just sit and close out the world and meditate. It is where I found God again. Not that I had lost him or that he lost me, I had just been to pissed to even talk to him. Yet I knew something, I had been telling my counselor that I had a feeling that the trip to Vegas was the beginning of something. It ended up being the start of many things of me realizing that even though I’m forty, I can still dream. And I can still chase those dreams. And that even though God had taken my husband, he still had a good plan for my life. His plan is one that I couldn’t even come up with but has all the promise that the life I thought I had planned out did. Life may not be the same as it was with Ed, but it is still a wonderful life and while Ed is no longer on this Earth, he is still with me and my children as we travel and see all the things we longed to.

I think back to all the years of waiting. Waiting to feel like my life has started, you know as a young kid we tell ourselves that we will be living when we can drive or when we are out on our own, we all have that next step in mind that says we are starting life. For me I spent years feeling like mine was on hold, reality is, I am the one who kept hitting the pause button. I am no longer waiting to live. Because living is involved in every single one of those steps. What I learned meditating at the Grand Canyon is this, be present, be in the moment, be in the memory. Stop waiting to live and just do it, because we already spend so much time waiting, don’t lose anymore.

I spent weeks trying to just be normal. The trip to Colorado helped but what it also did was bring on a stage of grief that I wasn’t quite ready for. The anger. I am not an angry person. If you asked most people I am this quiet laid back fun loving girl. Not angry. Yet I was mad, I played my music loud and it wasn’t the nice loving music. It was angry and fast and while it wasn’t hate music, it was the music of how could you. What I did next was the most common mid life crisis thing anyone can do. I bought a sports car. Actually my dream car, a 2019 Camaro I bought it used but very slightly used. I bought black because Ed never wanted a black car, “too hard to keep clean”. I got both inside and out done in black, and a convertible. I have loved the Camaro for years. So I went and bought one. Let me tell you it was the most fun I had in a long time.

It was also the most dangerous thing I had ever done. Why because suddenly I needed to drive. I would have these anxiety attacks and instead of running, I would drive, and drive fast. In my town there is an old highway that leads to the next town. It is now rarely used and 95 percent of the time it is deserted. When anxiety hit I would drive that highway, at speeds that often reached one twenty plus. One day though I realized that it wasn’t anxiety, it was anger. I was mad as hell. I asked why God chose me, chose my children, my family to lose its most beloved person. I was met with silence and that silence was filled with my anger. I did this for weeks sometimes multiple times per day. I was short with friends, with family, and the anger just seeped into my world. Until one day…..

While sitting in my car one night after driving around for hours, I was checking out Facebook and there low and behold was an article done by a widow. She was telling friends what to expect and others what not to say, and other widows what was normal. What she wrote described me perfectly. It was as if she saw my life and wrote it down. Then it was the end of her writing that got me. She simply said “STOP.” Stop driving fast, stop chasing the feeling of being alive. It’s what I did, when I did dangerous things, it made me feel alive. What I really needed to know is that, doing that was NORMAL. My dear friends, if you have lost your spouse, your other half, it is NORMAL to chase the feeling of being alive. Some say it is because we feel guilty for being here without them. That is not the case with me, the truth is, I felt like I died with him. My identity was jerked right out from underneath me. Please don’t ever assume you know why someone is doing something, just ask them, they need to talk. If they don’t want to right then then keep asking. Just don’t judge them, and STOP telling them what they need to do or how they need to do it. Just give them the space to just be pissed. That is what I needed, space to just be mad as hell. Out there driving, I could be mad as hell without that rage being flung at an innocent person. The scene from “Forest Gump” comes to mind, where Jenny throws rocks at the old house. He stood there and just let her be mad, let her have and deal with her anger. Be Forest people it is that simple, and Forest was right, “sometimes there is just not enough rocks.”

Yet it goes deeper than just space, what I was doing was wrong and selfish, I was putting my life in danger, my kids deserved more than that. It wasn’t wrong for me to be mad, it was wrong to put my life in danger. My children do not deserve to lose both dad and mom. That is what the lady said after she said STOP. She was right. I have not driven like that ever again. I ask you if you are going through this, please STOP. No child or family deserves to have two great losses. Be mad, go out and throw rocks, find a safe way to deal with your anger please. Your life is worth so much more than a quick way to feel alive.

After that night, I focused even more on my running. It is what drove me, out there on the street I could find a way to just release the anger. I also started talking to someone and giving a voice to all the things I was angry about. And that person was able to help me work through that anger. It was yet again another way to grow and become a stronger woman, better mother, and friend. A part of me didn’t want to be angry or even admit that I was. I had to face that, death made me for the first time in my life deal with anger and actually give a voice to it. The old me would have pushed the anger aside and pretend everything was great. I was known for never speaking in anger, and swallowing those feelings. If I did people would tell me I was not acting like myself. Funny how I could control anger but I could not control fear. I now choose to not let either one control me. Do you see what happened? Because of death, I grew as a person. I let it do exactly what God intended it to do, mold me.

When I was in high school art class, we had an entire quarter dedicated to making clay pots. I learned that sometimes clay will crack and if the crack is deep enough you have to take out an entire hunk in order to repair it so that it won’t break once it is placed in the fire. Don’t you see? God saw a crack that just isn’t supposed to be there and as much as it hurt Him and me, he had to take that crack out and fix the pot. I am still being molded, and made into the person God has intended me to be. The why me has finally been answered, because I am strong enough to deal with the loss and still trust that MY GOD is in control and I will still have a beautiful full life, it just isn’t the one I thought I would have. I am watching God move, and he is a good God and I trust him.

Dee

The fog of being a widow slowly envelops you, most of the time while you are denying that it is happening. It did for me. I still got up and went to work returning just a week after Ed’s death. I just needed to feel normal do normal things. But in the end I realized that I got nothing accomplished and it took me months to catch up. I was easily distracted by all kinds of things and that is where drowning finally came in. I spent nights sitting on piles of laundry or in my shower sobbing so that the kids couldn’t hear. I would wake up in the middle of the night crying because my bed was empty, I now sleep with a ton of pillows to help that. I needed something more. So I began running. Serious running, like three miles a day four days a week. Suddenly something began to happen, the fog began to thin out. It didn’t completely go away but it did thin. And so did I, losing thirty pounds in just a few short months. Many people were asking what diet I was on and I told them one I hope they don’t have to do for a very long time. Many just looked shocked but it was the truth. I didn’t eat a lot, and I ran a lot. Wa-la lose weight. I do not recommend that to anyone. I was sick. It took a very long time for me to admit that. Like today, kind of long. If you’ve lost a spouse you may know the feeling. Of always feeling half sick, of taking a few bites of food and thinking who even wants to eat? I didn’t if you are new to the widow club, please know that does finally go away, it just takes time.

Slowly you eat a meal and you’re able to actually eat more than a little. There are days where the feeling comes back. Sometimes those days make sense, like holidays, birthdays, special days, others they just hit out of the blue. It doesn’t just hit you it also hits your family, so if you have kids, keep an eye on them, they are suffering the loss as well. That is why our trip to Colorado was so important. It got us out of the loss for a while. We went to visit Manitou Springs and the Cave of the Winds. A beautiful walk through cavern system. We didn’t have to wait long to go on a tour and as a family it was exciting. It was our second adventure of the trip, going into the cave system was a little intimidating but in we went. We were greeted with a photo op of course, and of course we are getting that dang picture. We laughed and had fun with the tour guide who was great and watching my kids explore new things filled me with joy. I kept thinking of how once again we were only there because he was gone, but we were there. It was breathtaking the view from the top of the cave system.

There was one thing on the tour that worried me a bit. I have a daughter that is Autistic and one part of the tour they shut out all the lights. We discussed this before going and we assured her that we would all be standing together and holding each others hands and that the lights would not be off for very long. When we reached the part of the cave where this was done. We gathered together and grabbed hands. The lights were shut off and you could see nothing. It was one of those things where you knew your eyes were opened but there was just nothing but blackness. We stood and listened to our tour guide tell us that if you were trapped in a cave system without light for over 24 hours, you could go blind. Funny how when things go dark people get quiet. The weight of the world seems to settle on you. Funny how this darkness was much like death. It settled on us, it weighed us down and we were fighting to get out of the darkness before we became blind. That had been our fight, and standing there holding hands slowly I realized that no matter how hard I tried the fog of widow brain had enfolded me and there was just no stopping it. Yet now that I had seen the dark, I could now find my way towards the light. After about five minutes of darkness they suddenly flip the lights back on and we could see each other again. We smiled at each other, another big step for us. And walking back out of the cave system was like taking my first steps of getting out of the fog.

We came out of the cave an found ourselves facing a huge thunderstorm with hail and winds and talk about a little nerve wracking trying to get back to our hotel and dinner while a huge storm was on our heels. We did that too, calmly and steady. Once again thinking back on it, that was exactly what getting out of the widow fog was. It was a fight, it was more than just realizing that I was in the fog, it was the battle to get out. When you lose someone young, there will be people who will step in and take care of you. At first you are glad they are there and then suddenly you become reliant on them. Be so careful here, because one day you will be on your journey to being yourself again and suddenly you no longer need that. That person will take it hard, they will be hurt by your revelation that you can do life on your own. That your decisions will be yours and even though they want what is best for you, they just can’t possibly know it all. No one can, the decisions are yours to make, if they are mistakes then they are yours to make. Just make sure that you tell them kindly that they are still loved, and needed, just not needed the way they believe they are. Trust me if you are in this situation this makes sense. If you are not in this situation, you may be the one who needs to let go and let someone live.

We are not weak those of us whom have suffered great loss. We are strong that is why we were chosen to bear this burden. We are a strong family that walked into darkness and back out again, stronger. The Cave of the Winds taught us that you can walk out of darkness and into light and see things so much clearer than most. It is possible to see again as long as you do not stay in that spot too long. Step two was finally completed.

-Dee

Think about some of your favorite movies you have seen. What is the one thing that really stands out. For someone like me it’s the soundtrack. The best movies have that one song that just sticks with you. Why else would there be an academy award just for best song? Because music helps to define us, it touches a soul and it sticks with us. Even when it becomes a joke, think Titanic, and you immediately know the song. Right? If you don’t then well think of any kids movie and you know.

I have been around music all my life. My father was a musician, My husband was a musician as well. I spent most of my life in a bar somewhere listening to all kinds of music. So when my husband passed it was as if it was all gone. The world turned to silence. It is the poetic beauty that my daughters brought music back into my life. So there I sit in a funeral home making “final plans” for my husband. It felt so unreal, I was asked about pictures of him with a slide show. No I heard myself say. Nothing sad, I don’t want hymns sung, or sad songs about him not being here anymore played. His was a life full of laughter and joy, and to send him off with a bunch of songs to make people cry was offensive. It was not who he was nor would it be something he wanted. My middle daughter put together the playlist and I trusted her. It was decided that we would ask those attending to wear their favorite band shirt. He was in many many bands. It was amazing to see what showed up. Some even had shirts made. There were shirts from the band that he played in when we got married. Those are some rare shirts.

I of course wore his favorite band shirt. Van Halen, over a long black dress. I looked awful, but I was also strong. His funeral contained at least three hundred people. All seated and standing in the venue we were able to get due to the sheer number of guests. Our family is large and they show up when it comes to this, and there I was looking awful but leading them into the venue with my head held high to a song believe it or not was a song he played in a band when we first met. “Man In The Box”. My daughter had no idea how her father used to play and sing that song. It made me smile. It is a song so not appropriate for a funeral, but for his it was perfect. It made me actually smile. Because I knew it was right.

Music has been a huge part of my life even after his passing. I did find that I could no longer listen to country, too many songs about being gone too soon. So I listened to my favorite 80’s hair bands, but then again Ed was just as big as a fan as I was and when songs came on memories flooded back and I once again had to find something else. My daughters then introduced me to groups like Panic at the Disco, and Fall Out Boy, then friends introduced me to people like Lizzo, and Pink. Then add red dirt music in there and my world grew even larger.

I collected songs about falling in love, about what to do when loved ended and I really connected to songs about women finding their power and not letting a man get the best of them. My man didn’t get the best of me, I wasn’t getting over a breakup, or being cheated on. But these songs still hit me at my core. My favorite song to discover was a song about a woman who had to start over when she “Ain’t that Old, but not quite young” and if she was going to hurt someone the singer hoped it was him. I liked it, I can’t say why, I just did. It was beautiful that he was going to put his heart on the line even though he knew it was going to be broken. For me that was where I was in life. I loved being a wife, belonging to someone, taking care of someone. I felt like I lost who I was when I lost that. My wonderful son reminded me of something very profound. I was still that even though dad was in heaven. I was still his wife and I still had to take care of him.

Months later my tastes in music has evolved to many things but I still listen to the songs that got me through those first few months of grief. I have bonded with those songs. I am able to listen to country again but because of my daughters I don’t unless I have to. For those of you who have lost someone, cling to music, find what helps cure your soul. Maybe it’s Christian songs, or 80’s Love Ballads, or even old soul music from great artists like Etta James, she is one of my favorites. Find that song that makes you smile, feel strong, and just for a few minutes helps you find yourself again. Or maybe you are choosing to be a little more like me and while you were happy with who you were, you are slowly learning you were not really who you wanted to be.

Many people came up to me and asked how it felt to have a clean slate facing in front of you. Overwhelming was the only word I could think of. Some even felt I was lucky to get the chance to start over, to start new. There were times when my over active imagination just slapped the shit out of those people. I also realize that they are just trying to help and there is a silver lining here, there are just some days you really don’t want to see it. I’ve told countless women that being forced into the single life all the sudden was totally not a grass is greener on the other side kind of deal. From where I was standing them being in a marriage with the person they loved rather they did now or not was where I wanted to be. Not standing out here all alone praying another good one would come along. I mean come on, who wants to be forty years old and single? Okay some of you do, but not me. I married at 18, I don’t know how to date, how to build a relationship. Hell I have four kids! You say that to a man and surely he would bolt while you were in the restroom! None the less I do not want to be alone. So I started dating just a few months after he passed. We made the deal a few years ago, if something should happen to either one of us we were to find happiness again. Find someone who would love us, love our kids, live a full life. There are a bunch of crazy guys out there and at first it was not fun. But just to let you know in advance, lighting does strike twice, you just have to be patient for it. God had a plan and I knew it, I tried to rush the plan, but that got me nowhere. I had a lot of growing before I could leave the trench, the good thing is, once you accept that you are without a doubt in a trench and you are okay with where you were, it’s only then when you can start to truly climb out.

So choose your soundtrack and then sit and listen until you’re okay with just sitting in the trench. Wait as long as you need to, for that is where your raw grief is. Where you sit and sob. There are days when you think it’s time to climb out, it’s okay if you get halfway and decided that it’s just not time. For me that day came early, and I knew who I wanted to be. I didn’t want to be that widow who was still grieving years later. Who waited years to be happy again. I am a better mother, friend, and yes girlfriend (that amazing story comes later in the journey), because I knew who I wanted to be. It’s okay if you don’t know it at first. Take your time, just don’t forget that you are an amazing person and everyone can have the happy ever after as long as you stay true to who you are and work on who you want to be. Maybe your happy ever after is alone, if that is what you choose. Just remember it’s your choice, not anyone else’s. Yours and yours alone.

So find your song, select your soundtrack, explore new worlds, and prepare for the journey. It’s feels like a long one but trust me, it really isn’t in the grand scheme of things.

We find ourselves months after Ed’s passing just ready to be away from everyone, it happens. You want to be around people that don’t look at you with that look. So for the first time ever I loaded up three of the four kids, the forth has a job and had to stay home to work, and we headed to Colorado. I have never taken my kids somewhere by myself. I have dreamed of it. Of travel, of seeing mountains, of breathing the “clean mountain air” that my father always talked about when I was a kid. So we climbed into the mini van and just left. For most people that is a common thing to travel. Not in my family, and I have decided that it was time that we did that. It was finally our turn. What we found was that we travel pretty well together and the unknown is fun as long as the GPS is working.

We learned that we are scared adventurous people. Meaning we may walk up to the roller coaster but it is very likely that we just might not get on. No there are no roller coasters where we went, but there was Seven Falls. A beautiful place to sit and listen to the sound of people, and well water once you learn how to shut the noise of people out. Something that takes discipline. Instead of just watching everyone else walk up the steep metal stairs I push my kids up. Let me tell you my own legs were shaking due to the fear of heights, but my pep-talk was a great one. It was something like, “Don’t you want to say that you did something hard, and did it well? That you made it to the top and back down? You did that, something most stop only halfway at. Think of how great we will feel back down here having completed something that feels impossible.” So up we went. Let me tell you what, there was one point that halfway sounded really good. But something inside said that it is only at the top that you finish the journey the first step. 224 very steep narrow stairs later we reach the top. It’s not easy, your legs really do shake and you’re tired and you are grateful that you are on flat land once again. The view is amazing and breathtaking. Of course that could be the lack of oxygen from the climb. But oh the climb is so worth it. Why? Because you stand there with the rest of the brave folks who just did what you did and you smile. You made it. You take pictures and stand in groups talking about the view and how different the falls sound at each stage.

We did it I think as we stand for our picture that someone kindly takes for us. And I can feel Ed standing there with us. Knowing that this trip would have never been taken if he had been alive. We would have been home with him, but as we stood there, he was with us. Telling us good job and saying wow the view is worth the climb. We say thank you and then realize that now the hard part comes. Going down. It’s a steep drop, and if you think going up was hard, try looking straight down nothing but air and rocks very, very far down. We stand there and wonder if we should have just brought a tent and just live at the top because going down just seems like it’s okay not to do. But we gather close and we start. My youngest daughter, does something amazing, she takes the lead. I am proud of her, she is the youngest girl but also the biggest, and she is going to protect us. So we line up behind her and start our way down. She showed bravery because we were all shaking and wondering if this was really a great idea. We try to take our time coming down but really you just want to be done. When you reach the halfway platform you stop and take a breath. As if you’ve been holding it the entire time. You haven’t but it does feel that way. We only stand at the halfway point for a few minutes and then head the rest of the way down. When we finally reach the bottom we do what no one else seems to do. We celebrate the fact that we just did that! Us, the people who at one time was afraid to even leave the little town we lived in.

There it is my friends, personal growth. We didn’t drive six hours in a mini van just so we could stand and look at the falls. We not only saw them we climbed them. We deserved to celebrate that we did, what we thought was impossible, we worked together as a team and bonded while we did it. Each bringing something more than just a t-shirt home. That my friends was the first step. Doing something you believe to be impossible. For me it was going to another state, to a big city where I just don’t normally go. For my family it was climbing 224 stairs just to take in the view, and came back down them. We grew more in that five minuets of celebrating than we had in years.

This is what death had driven me to, if I could do the impossible, then I could do death. What the truth is, I was already doing death. I may not have been doing it well, but who does it well? Nonetheless I was doing it. And I was showing my children that even at the bottom of the rock looking up at the impossible, climbing out, while it is hard work, is possible and when you get to the top the view is worth every step.

So I encourage you, find your impossible and take your first step.

-Dee

I was on a girls weekend with my two best friends when I received my call. If you have lived through losing a spouse, then you always remember that call, or event better than the birth of your children. It hits you that hard. I was hundreds of miles away from my children and spouse when he passed right in front of them. I had just gotten off the phone with him not more than five minuets when he was found on the ground by friends that they were visiting. I was the last person to ever speak to him. While that sounds like something out of a movie, it is true, and while at the time it wasn’t good enough, now I am so thankful for it. Nothing hits harder than flying down a highway trying to get home while an ER doctor tells you “I’m sorry ma’am, there just wasn’t anything we could do.” over the phone. You slowly watch your life just stop. Breathing is hard, moving is hard and your in too much of a shock to even really cry. Of course if you are reading this most likely you’ve been through that or something similar. I would say “Sorry for your loss” but if you are anything like me, you are just tired of hearing it. I haven’t quite made it to the first year anniversary, but it is slowly creeping up on us. I have made it through many tough days though. The holidays, our wedding anniversary, my birthday, I made it through it all of those. The sad thing is the hardest day for us as a family is still a simple Thursday. Why? Because it was the day that he would come home from his job. Getting the first hug from dad, was a real contest and the winner had bragging rights all weekend. To lose that meant that we felt like we lost it all.

Ed was the leader of our family. He was the life and joy of the house, it just felt like home with him there. But this isn’t about losing him. It’s about finding me. I have said it a lot lately, “it’s almost sad that it took my husband dying to teach me how to live.” And maybe that is a little cliche but those who have been in this trench and made it out to the other side know what I mean. I have met many widows who still trudge down in the rough for many reasons. There’s no timeline to grief. No finish line, because it will always be there. What there is, is the day you wake up and think today I move forward. And to be honest, there are days you wake up and think this, and by the time the day is over, you find yourself back down in the trench. Guess what, that is perfectly okay. I am different, from everyone. I decided right from the start that the word Widow would only describe who I am not define who I am.

Widow…..that word is so heavy it becomes tied around your neck sometimes feeling much like the Scarlet Letter. Especially in a small town, and I love my small town. Here grief is done as a whole town not just as a family. We mourn as a community. Here in this small town I am not the only widow. I mean young widow. I believe I may be the youngest, but if I am it is not by much. When you live in a large city, people become young widows every day. It becomes common, what it doesn’t become is easy. I can’t imagine trying to do this without my community. I thank God for them.

As my one year anniversary comes up I am suddenly wondering where can I find the silver lining in this mess of a hand that I have been dealt? I’m talking a pair of twos here. Then it hits me, just because I have the easiest hand to beat doesn’t mean that I can’t bluff. Somewhere God has a plan and I just have to find what it is. Now I know most people will say be patient God will come to you, he will reveal his plan in time. Naw God knows me, I’m gonna knock on his door, no not knock, pound on his door and ask straight up. What’s the plan. Not because I don’t have patience but because sometimes the only way to find God is to get off your ass and look for him.

So I prayed I asked for very specific things. I mean very, no walking around the topic just laid it out. And then I received answers. This blog is about getting those answers and how they affected me. And I hope that it inspires you to start asking God for answers. To stop asking for signs or word of encouragement. I mean answers real answers, things that when I reveal each one will give you goosebumps. Because it did me.

One last thing for you in this opening post. Why call this blog “The Journey of a Lioness”? In a pride of lions it is the females that hunt and provide for the family. Then once the hunt is over they are usually the last to eat. They put everyone first. I set out to find God that way once my husband died. I set out to find answers of why, why me, why my children, why our family. And I learned why they were not easy lessons to learn. And hunting the way I did left battle scars that are still healing. Yet what I found and what I hope to inspire you to find is worth every tear, rip, and hole that I got. Welcome to the hunt my friends, this hunt isn’t for the strong for they are too closed minded to accept imperfections. This hunt is for the weak because it will force you to become strong and while it will leave you broken and bleeding, one day you will wake up and you will be the fierce lioness, that no one saw coming.