Don't Call Me Fragile

So I've got about five blogs swimming around in my head, and no time in which to blog them... but when have I not chosen to procrastinate on a big paper four days before it's due? I may end up having to take Wednesday off from life.

Anyway the River Pretty Writers Retreat was this weekend, and it went well I think. I really love getting a chance like that to be away from the rest of the world for a while and getting to know people better. I  made a lot of new friends this weekend and strengthened several that were made last semester.

Something that is interesting about the workshops in the writing retreat: We are given writing prompts or exercises and then somewhere between 10 or 20 minutes to write. Then someone reads what they've written and everyone else reacts to it. I've noticed that I tend to write non-fiction in these workshops, because it's hard for me to be spontaneously creative in that way. (For instance, of the three or four exercises this weekend, only one was fiction.)

It's a little rough because a lot of what I write about is being a widow. I think I just need to accept that I need to write a memoir to get out all the stuff, instead of revisiting it over and over and over. Widowhood dominates my writing more than it does my life.

Interestingly enough though I had three very distinct widow experiences this weekend.

One (and chronologically the final one) happened in conversation. One of my writing friends is a poetry guy and somehow over the course of the last 6-8 months that I've known him he didn't know about Nathan. So we were helping a girl who had gotten pretty intoxicated get to bed and he made a comment about his wife having a lot of health problems and so he was sort of trained to take care of sick people. And I agreed, and made some comment about recovering from caretaker fatigue. I said something about taking care of someone with cancer, thinking that he already knew my background, and he asked who and I said, "Oh... my husband."

We had been walking and he stopped dead in his tracks. He had no clue. He asked if he could give me a hug. I obliged, half because he looked like he needed a hug. Several times the rest of the weekend he commented on my strength.

Two happened at the student reading (I really can't remember if this reading was before or after the next experience, but I've got a organizational plan which places this one here.) One of my friends from the last retreat read a story, a fictional piece which takes place 10-15 days after his wife dies. (His wife is not dead.) He mentioned it was the most difficult thing he's ever written and the hardest thing he's ever had to do. It was really interesting to hear what he thought it would be like for him... It made me think about how, before Nathan died, I thought I might handle his death. It isn't the first time I've said this, but before he got sick I thought that if Nathan ever died I'd become a hermit. I'd run off to the upstairs of my parent's house and become a hermit, and never venture out into the world again. That's what I thought. This friend was very concerned about what I thought and how I reacted to his piece, but I can't be insulted by someone truly trying to imagine what life would be like. He said a lot of things that weren't at all like what I'd gone through... but he said some things that were right on. And that doesn't mean that he was wrong about how he'd react-- it just means that he is not like me. It did make me slightly paranoid (as I often am) that the way I handled Nathan's death makes it look like I didn't love him with all that I had. But that's my weird issue, not his. And it was sweet of him to be concerned about my reaction.

And then there was the third experience, which also happened at the student readings. A boy from Oklahoma read something he'd written from the perspective of a Marine Family Relations Officer. I can't tell you what the story was about... at all. Because towards the beginning of the story he read the words, "fragile widows."

And it was all I could do for the rest of his reading was not walk up to him and punch him in the nose and then yell, "Who's fragile now!?!"

I was ticked.

Not only was I mad for the cause of widows everywhere, but I happen to be dating a Marine. Now it's true he's not an FRO, but one of the many reasons I like my Marine is that my widowhood says to him that I'm very strong. He has seen widows in mourning and he does not call them fragile. He calls them strong. I was so put off by how wrong this guy's casual reference to myself and my sisters in grief was.

It really angers me how prevalent this idea of the flawed-ness or fragility of widows is in society. Maybe it comes from the people who try to imagine (like me, once) what they would do if they lost their spouse. **This is different from my friend who honestly and sincerely put himself through the real imagining of what would happen. Much like an actor he put in the work to make himself that character-- to have that character's experiences.** Maybe it comes from the pity. I heard a woman say to my friend (after he made a general announcement that his wife had not died) how glad she was to hear that his wife was alive because she'd been feeling so sorry for him.

Again, a reason I appreciate Jason. He does not pity me. He wishes that I hadn't had to go through it, but he doesn't pity me. He also doesn't view the terrible side note that I once had a husband who died as something that's wrong with me. In fact he's baffled by the fact that anyone would.

I'm a widow, and that simple fact has taught me that I have a core of steel. Much of what I am has been stripped or blown away, but that doesn't mean I'm fragile. I've been tested. If life is a fist fight I've been fighting a berserker who is three times my size and not pulling his punches. Being hit doesn't make you fragile. Heck, even being broken doesn't make you fragile. Strong things break all the time. What makes something fragile is being easily broken. And trust me when I say that the death of one's spouse is not an easy blow.

Yes, I am a widow but don't call me fragile.

Veteran of the Heart

Just so you know, I think this might actually be up to three different blog posts, but I can't seem to organize my thoughts into anything of a decent cohesive length.

I watched the Silver Linings Playbook yesterday because my friend (Kara T.) really wanted to see it. Plus it's generally a positive movie and, you know, nominated for like 6 or 7 Oscars.

I knew going into it that the main girl was a young widow. And so I went into it expecting to relate somehow. I fully expected to cry.

But I didn't. At all.

None of it felt real or true... I didn't buy the ending... In effect it just didn't line up for me.

And I couldn't help but wonder why.

Is it because each experience of grief is so different? Or am I abnormal? Jennifer Lawrence has a best actress nom, so I don't think it's just that she doesn't do a good job. Is it that no one in the Academy has had a "young grief" experience? That can't be it.

Or is it that I'm not really a widow, anymore.

I mean, of course, I *am* a widow-- I always will be.  I've earned the title. And I do think "earned" is the right word. Widow(er) is a signifier of experience-- gained just by making it through each day. It means something along the lines of  "veteran of the heart." But I feel like that's not the main distinguisher right now. It's kinda like getting a doctorate. There are some times when being called doctor is a big deal and you want that respect, but when you are with your family or on vacation that title isn't one that you use. Basically, "widow" is not how I define myself and I don't think it's how others define me and maybe that's an important distinction.

I was reading a book last night (Yes, I started at 2 AM.... Yes, I went to sleep at 6AM... Yes, I woke up at noon and proceeded to roll over and finish the book without even getting out of bed. Yes, I think you should consider that cute and not deranged.) But in the book the main character is speaking about his mother who passed away less than a year earlier and says of the cemetery  "I still can't think about her being there. It doesn't make sense. Why would you stick someone you love down in a lonely old hole in the dirt? Where it's cold, and dirty, and full of bugs? That can't be how it ends, after everything, after everything she was." - Beautiful Creatures

That I totally relate to. I really struggled just after Nathan died with him being "so far" away from me in Arkansas, but then Kara reminded me that he wasn't really there.

We are coming up on "hell week" for me. It starts on the 21st and culminates in the 29th. I've already caught myself getting a little manic in my quest for company. Last year we had a big to-do. I don't want that this year. I don't know exactly what I will do, but I know I it will be something smaller, quieter.... some sort of tradition I might actually be able to maintain.

I can't believe it will be two years. In some ways it feels so much longer and in other ways not nearly that long. I keep expecting my life to be vastly different, but it's not my life that really seems so changed. It's me.

Vulnerability: The First

Today Melissa and I were talking about something... and then the same subject came up on a television show I watched online... and then again in a different way on a different show. (To be fair I also read an entire Shakespeare play this evening, so don't judge me too harshly.) So because the same subject came up so very often today I thought I would talk about it.

Melissa and I were talking about Brené Brown's book. She is reading it and recommended it to me. I know of Brené Brown from a couple of TED talks that she did that I love. (I blogged about them here.) Melissa and I were talking about communication and being yourself and being straightforward and power dynamics and the lack of power dynamics. And that got us on the subject of admitting ones needs/wants/desires.

There is something in us, and I'm not sure if by "us" I mean "Americans" or I mean "human beings," but there is something that feels like we should not admit what we want or need. That somehow, by being honest about who we are, we are displaying weakness and declaring ourselves pathetic. No one wants to be thought of that way and so we hide our wants and desires. We don't share what we actually want, deep down, because we are afraid that we will be judged for it -- labeled as "needy" --or we will be told no and that will hurt.

So we bottle it up and tamp it down and generally try as hard as we can to avoid being vulnerable. Brené Brown says that vulnerability is essential to living a full and content life, though, and while I've not read her book I do greatly agree with those TED talks, so I've put her book on hold at the library.

Then I was watching Hart of Dixie, (because I'm totally hooked even though I wouldn't call it good television by any stretch of the imagination.) And the theme of the episode was romance... and how romance is about the willingness to take a chance and be a fool. It's true... love and marriage isn't about being cool, it's about being silly and being real and being ok with all that. At one point the main character says of a fifteen year old kid that he is tough, that expressing his feelings took guts, and she tells him that he is braver than most grown men that she knows. Again: vulnerability is hard but it's commendable and something to be respected.

And then I was watching Go On which is that widower show that I've mentioned a few times and the main character had an old friend from college come visit, and through the course of the episode he discovers that he has feelings for her (though he's not ready yet to act on them) and at the end they talked about it and she is really honest/vulnerable and admits that she has feelings for him, too (and has since college) but they can't date, because she knows he's not ready and she doesn't want to be "the first" after his wife.

That last part kinda slayed me... cause 1) it was so cool that they just talked about it, straightforwardly. --Ach, to just talk about romantic feelings as though they aren't something to hide from or be ashamed about.... that's my dream world! But 2) because she didn't want to be first.

 I think that's a real thing that people get concerned about with widows/widowers... and if I'm gonna be honest about my needs/desires: I want to date, I want to get married and I want to have children... and I really want that all to happen relatively soon. I'm going to be 30 next year and my biological clock has been primed for five years now... but for any of those dreams to happen, someone has to be the first. And if there isn't (at least) a first then I won't get any of those things... And that is a dream that will very much hurt if I'm told no.

And I am afraid to say it, for fear that it makes me sound desperate (when I'm really not) or unhappy (which I'm also not) or trolling for a husband (still, not.) But if you can't be real on your blog where can you be real?

Relationship Status

Today marks a big day: The day I changed my relationship status.

I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now.

Gone back and forth more times than I can count, consulted with several friends about it-- but today I took the plunge and changed my status from "widowed" to "single."

The thing is that I will always be a widow. For the rest of my life. But it's not my relationship status, anymore.

I will always be extra sensitive to cancer when I see it- in real life or just portrayed on television.

I will always miss Nathan.

I think Kara put it really well in an e-mail exchange we had about it- (I mentioned how terrible it would be if I started dating someone, changed my relationship status, and then we broke up):

"Change it to single.  That WOULD be horrible, "broke up with John Doe, back to being a widow...?" No.  You are a single window.  There are also categories of dating widow and married widow.  Your relationship with Nathan is a different category than all future relationships.  It's not Nathan or new guy.  It's always Nathan - you will always have been married to him, but that doesn't preclude other relationships.  Mark Zuckerburg needs to figure this shit out.  He should pay you to be his consultant on these matters."

Widow is not all that I am, and in relationship it is not all that I want.

"Single" means "available." It means "up for possibilities." It means "keeping my eyes open."

"Widowed" means "back the heck off-- I'm dealing here."

And while I think I'll always be dealing-- as anyone with pain and sorrow in their past does-- I don't want people to back off. I want people to come in.

I don't want to shove people away.

I want to hug them.

I want to bake them cookies and hear their life stories.

*sigh*

So I have a confession... I thought about not blogging about this because I feel really bad and embarrassed about it. Like... a little heart-brokenly bad.

I wanted to blog about my friend Janis and how cool she is and how she sends me super awesome postcards.

I wanted to blog about Dr. Who.

I wanted to blog about happy trees and rainbows.

But tonight I was reading facebook and came to a post from one of my former teachers. It was about how tomorrow is she and her husband's 28th wedding anniversary.

And that's when I remembered. At 10:45 the day before. And really only because I remembered that this teacher and I shared our anniversaries.

Tomorrow (Today for most of you) is my 5th wedding anniversary.

Now there are lots of excuses I can use to explain why I hadn't been thinking about it. Being very busy with video game stuff, preaching mentoring, grad school stuff. Events in my head looming up like Josh and Kara's ordination, the baby dedication, Josh and Kara moving, upcoming 29th birthday, a trip home, 10 years of friendship with Kara, 1st day of school.

But none of that makes me feel better about the fact that I forgot. I'll admit that I sent Kara an e-mail that had some curse words.

I miss him every. single. day. How could I forget about this day?

The only thing that makes me feel any better about this is that I have Nathan's voice in my head- so real it's *almost* audible

"Sweetheart, it's ok!"

How?

Well, despite not remembering what tomorrow was, I'd made nearly all day plans this week with a small group of  friends... Tomorrow I'm going to a Batmanathon, culminating in going to see the newest Batman film.

How is watching a bunch of super dark movies reassuring? Well, the thing is that Batman Begins (the first movie that we will be watching tomorrow) was Nathan and my first real date. (It took until our 2nd go-round to have a real date.) I can still remember how he wanted to tell everyone that we were dating and he called Paula on the way to the movie theater to let her know that he was going on a date with his girlfriend.

This Batmanathon wasn't my idea... in fact it came from a kinda unexpected source... well, "unexpected" except in that eerily fitting way that makes you think that it isn't all coincidence.

I've never seen the second movie, because I knew how dark it was. So I thought it was a bit strange how excited/interested I was in doing this. But, you know, if Nathan was here, he'd be working so hard to convince me to do this for our anniversary.

So my plans... they kinda feel a bit like Nathan is trying to suppress a fond chuckle as I cry about what a terrible wife I am.

I can almost feel his hand stroking my hair.

I can almost hear his, "Sweetheart! It's fine! You are being ridiculous."

I really miss being called "Sweetheart."

Afraid to Believe

I got great news today. They want to publish my one-act in the Moon City Review 2012!

It's such good news that I almost don't trust it. What if someone somewhere just hit the wrong button? It's all electronic now... it wouldn't be that hard to send an accidental acceptance when you meant to send a refusal.

How sad is it that I find myself suspicious of good news?

I was excited for a few hours and then I just started thinking, "What if it's a mistake?" The only other person I know who was accepted, was accepted over a month ago. Why the long delay between now and then?

50 people liked my status on facebook... what if I have to go back and tell them it was all just a misclick?

I hate looking the fool so much that I almost regret telling people so quickly. I don't want to look foolish and I really really hate feeling pitied.

Pitied or patronized. Either reaction make me want to punch someone/thing.

And if this is all some cruel joke the universe is playing on me... *shakes fist in the general direction of the universe*

Dang, I'm not a pessimist, normally... but I've mentioned before how often it feels like if I want something really and truly then I can't have it.

Now I've just admitted to the world that I really and truly wanted MCR to publish one of my pieces.

It's the first thing I ever tried to get published and I really wanted it to be used. It's that huge first step and it starts the very slow process of getting my name into the world... and I *wanted* it.... so I thought for sure it wouldn't happen. And the passing of the deadline I expected to hear from them by just confirmed it all in my head.

So this feels like it's not possible.

It's exceedingly weird that I should be so good at trusting in God with the hard stuff life's thrown at me, but afraid to trust in Him that the good things are actually good and not just another sneaky way to try and crush my spirits. I've learned how to rejoice in sorrow... but how do you rejoice in rejoicing? How can you ever know it's not all going to come crashing out from under you? The mountains are a lot easier to fall off of than rock bottom.

I realize how very strange I sound right now... I feel like for the first time I've uncovered a place where this journey has dinged me up a bit... where the process hasn't refined me, but added a weakness. How ironic that in learning to stand tall through the valleys I've become afraid to fly in the heights.

Creepy but Comforting

I found some "spiritual journals" of Nathan's... and I skimmed them for my name, cause I'm shallow like that... and I found this:

"April, 2005

During a late night conversation with Renée, several times she spoke exactly the words I was thinking as if I had spoken them. As we discussed the increasing commonness of the occurrence, I saw white wings in the reflection in her eyes. She said that God was offering her a gift, but with consequences-- a loss of normalcy, and the risk of extreme emotional pain."

I didn't see any wing reflections... and I'm sure that I didn't state things as matter-of-factly and succinctly in the moment as Nathan did, writing it down, and I'm positive that I put a whole bunch of disclaimers on that statement, such as starting it with "I feel like, maybe...." But the phrases "loss of normalcy" and "risk of extreme emotional pain" ...those are my words... I can tell because I've used them a lot since cancer and especially since Nathan died. I probably even used them on this blog a few times.

But here, I was using them during the 6 month break when Nathan and I weren't even dating.

That's a bit freaky cause it's hard to argue with that kind of recording.

But in another way it's really comforting.

Nathan was certainly a gift. And even knowing what I do now, I'd still choose him... but it's nice to think that maybe God let me in on something, even if I didn't understand it.

By the way, Kara pointed this out to me and I feel like I should pass it along-

So here is a helpful tip from a widow: If you are married and you have ever ever ever written anything negative about your spouse somewhere, get up *right now* and go destroy it completely. I'm really lucky, because Nathan loved me more than I deserve and I've never found anything disparaging about me, but once you die everything is fair game, and I can't even imagine how crushing it would be to read something mean/bad written by the person who means the most to you when he/she isn't even there to apologize and make it up to you.If you are dating/engaged to someone never ever write something negative about your significant other down. Then there is nothing to destroy.

This has been your widow public service announcement!

Andúril

You know, I've been thinking and I think there is a stigma that comes along with being a widow... or at least a young widow. I mean it's not like people think you killed your husband or anything, but there is a bit of an assumption that you are damaged... that you have a lot of baggage... that you are going to have issues.

None of it is true. At least not any more true than it is of anyone else in the world. Everyone is damaged somehow, everyone has baggage, everyone has issues. I think that I'm probably just as well-adjusted if not more than a divorced woman... and I don't have trust issues. I think I have the same amount (or less) baggage than a woman my age who's never been married (and who wants to be)... and I have less fear and more confidence. And at least for now I only have half the issues a married woman has, because I don't have my husband's issues too. (That's a fun sidenote to marriage... you have to deal with double the issues.) I think that the elderly escape this stigma because... well, by the time you are old people expect you to know how to handle stuff. But if you're young then the death was probably tragic and you probably don't have a clue what you are doing.

Well that last part is true, I certainly don't have a clue what I'm doing. But I muddle along and I try and I keep looking forward... I mean I've been through a fire... and it's changed me... but I think becoming a widow has honed me. It's given me a point of view, it's given me perspective, and darn but if it hasn't made me even more sure of my faith and the importance of focusing on the positives... and you know... now, when I let my joy out... it means something to other people... Not that it didn't before, but when I can say, as a person who has walked through the valley of the shadow of death that it is well with my soul.... There is something powerful in that.

This post makes me feel like Andúril. Just call me the widow reforged, the flame of the west.

Fo' Drizzle

"Once you choose hope, anything's possible." -Christopher Reeve

Found this quote today. I like it... a lot.

Stumbled upon a site for widows/young widows. Been looking through it today/tonight. It's that kind of a day, apparently....

I told you all, that I'm working through Dawson's Creek. I'm on Season 4... and in the midst of a beloved character's funeral. I've been avoiding it for a few days now. To watch someone mourn on a tv show... it's strange... and comforting... and strange.

I mean I'm glad to know I'm not alone, but at the same time, no one is like me... there is always something that's different... There's always a way in which we aren't the same. My grief is both the same and profoundly different from everyone else's.

Here's a Dawson's Creek quote.

"You know, every night for 46 years, I prayed the Good Lord would take me first. I never wanted to go on without him. I didn't think I was capable of it. But somehow, I was. It wasn't easy, but inevitably there comes a day that isn't as bad as the one before it."

I thought I would have to move back home to Memphis... I thought it was the only way I'd be able to deal. You just never know till you're in it.

People have started to talk to me about Nathan's death. Telling me what happened with them when he died. Telling me about times when they are surprised by his death again. Trying to somehow bring me into their lives and how it connects with mine. It's nice... but I don't know what to say or how to respond. Usually I say, "Yeah...."

I'm exceedingly eloquent.

But in other news my hair is a smashing success.

I believe this is what they like to call winning some and losing some. You know, in the biz.

... in the bizzle.

Hey Lissa, Why does Snoop Dogg need an umbrella?

A random collection of thoughts: widow-style.

Wonderfully fun night with wonderfully fun friends. Kara made an accidental bald joke in the presence of Josh (her husband, who in case you don't know, is bald) and while it was a definitely a "you had to be there" moment... and maybe even a "you had to be one of us two" moment, I haven't laughed that hard in a long long time. It's good to laugh that hard... Of course then everyone goes away and I don't have anyone to come down off the people/laughter high with... Oh the roller coaster of ups and downs... So lonely, so often- in part just because I'm not used to being alone... and I *like* people... I really really do... with every fiber of my being I like people...I mean, sure, sometimes individuals will get on my nerves, but as a whole, if you want to hang out with me, then I want to hang out with you... but I'm so awkward... and I'm usually afraid to show it very much... cause it's not cool to be enthusiastic... It's cool to be your own person and do your own thing and hold yourself apart... not cool to be a pest.

Have I mentioned that I'm trying to compliment people more? I am. It's in tribute to Nathan, because I always loved that about him... he was very generous with compliments. I'm not so generous... not because I don't think complimentary things... I just don't actually say them out loud. I've discovered that it's harder than I thought... Apparently it takes a good bit of self confidence to compliment people... 1) You have to have the self confidence to actually say it without  freaking out because you think you sound like a spazz or a stalker. 2) You have to have the self-confidence to assume that the other person cares. 3) There is a fine line between complimenting and flirting and I'm never confident that I'm on the right side of that line...  *Notedly Nathan was also a flirt ( I can say that! He knew it!), so I might not be following the best example in the world on this one...

Please note that self-confidence and self esteem are different things. Self esteem is related to one's opinion of one's self... and I think that I'm a pretty cool chick... Self confidence is what I lack and that is more about being sure your chosen course of action is the right choice.... and I'm pretty much never sure of that. I don't know what I'm doing half of the time. I'm a bumbler... I bumble.

It looks like this blog is to be a random collection of thoughts... so be it. I finished the Christy series that I'd been watching  off and on for months... Silly cliffhanger endings! Good thing I own the book! Nathan would watch them too, and always got sucked in, even though he would claim he didn't want to watch them... He always got sucked into the things I liked... I even got him to admit that not all country music is awful... and let me tell you that was a hard fought battle!

I bought new eyeshadow yesterday.. Thanks, Sadie, for a good idea! It's 4 different colors and has gold shimmer in it, so if you see gold flecks on my cheeks... well it's cause I forgot I had eye shadow on and rubbed my eyes... Or because I'm secretly a Grecian Goddess come to check in on you mortals... one of the two.

I've decided to stay in this apartment another year... If it had been Nathan and I, we would have most likely tried to look for a different place... but with everything that's going on I think this is the best fit for me right now.... But I will probably redecorate a bit... The memories are pretty strong, and I think moving things around might help. Plus it will help me sort through a lot of this stuff that I need to get through...

I found this quote from the Qur'an (2:234) on the Wikipedia article about mourning (most depressing search history ever, I told you!)

"And those of you who die and leave widows behind, they should keep themselves in waiting for four months and ten days. Then when they have fulfilled their term, there is no blame on you about what they do with themselves in accordance with the norms [of society]. And Allah is well acquainted with what you do. And there is also no blame on you if you tacitly send a marriage proposal to these women or hold it in your hearts. Allah knows that you would definitely talk to them. [Do so] but do not make a secret contract. Of course you can say something in accordance with the norms [of the society]. And do not decide to marry until the law reaches its term. And know that Allah has knowledge of what is in your hearts; so be fearful of Him and know that Allah is Most forgiving and Most Forbearing."

4 months and 10 days? Am I the only one who thinks that is a random and arbitrary time frame?  I mean why not just the 4 months... or why not 5 months if 4 months isn't enough?? I just think it's funny that the time frame is so specific. We are coming up on a month, pretty soon....even though there isn't a 29th this February. The calendar is just this huge landmine of dark days...  How has it only been a month? How has it already been a month? I hope I don't tick the months off like this all year...

One of the nicest things about tonight was that I felt like I could talk about Nathan... we could mention him and it wasn't a sad thing and it wasn't solely focused on him, but we could talk about him without killing the mood.... Nathan is a part of me... he's a part of who I am and that isn't going to change... so being able to acknowledge that and not feel like I had to keep it inside or secret was nice. It helps assure me that I'm gonna be ok...

Responding to the internet

Well I slept for nearly 12 hours... so apparently it's good that I went to bed when I did... and I'm feeling decidedly less mopey now, too. So that's good as well.

What's not good is some health issues that some of my friends are having. I don't want to really get into everything, because it's not my story to tell, but if you could pray for them I'd surely appreciate it. We've all been through more than enough stress and hard stuff this year... and it's only heading into the end of February. I really want to remember 2011 as a very very bad January and then a year of healing. I want to hear the Rocky training montage song in my head when I think of 2011... I want it to look like a sunrise.

I need to come up with plans for things to do every night of the week that I can completely bail on if I'm not feeling up to it. Cause that's not a tall order, eh?

I found this on a cancer website while looking for instructions on what things I need to make sure are being taken care of..

Responsibilities: In most families, each person is responsible for certain tasks. One person may do yard work and cooking, while another pays bills or does the laundry. When a spouse or family member dies, these jobs become the responsibility of surviving family members. Some tasks, such as doing the taxes, may be completely new, and having to learn a new skill can be stressful. If the deceased person was ill for a long time, family members who acted as caregivers may experience a feeling of emptiness now that their responsibility of caring for that person has ended. In fact, they may be flooded by emotions that they kept hidden during those final busy months of active caregiving.

I so understand that... My life does feel empty... I'm not driving Nathan to any appointments. When I want to go to sleep I just walk to my bed and lay down, without checking on anyone or doing last minute things that end up taking hours. I can get up and out of the house in 10 minutes or less, and am not neglecting anyone in the process... In a way there is a good deal of relief... and in a way there is so much more time than I have the ability to fill... There are a lot of things I *should* do with this time... but I just want to sit around reading or playing a game or talking to friends rather than thinking about what's going to happen next or what I need to be doing. I'm letting life happen around me... mainly cause I can't figure out where my place in the dance is now.

Something else I found while roaming the internets (I swear I have the most depressing search history ever!) is this website. There are a lot of things she says that I appreciate, identify with, or need to hear but here are some of my favorites... and my responses to them:

Why People Used to Wear Black Armbands
alternately titled, "Don't Mess with the Crazy Person"

After living through the loss of a husband, I now know why people used to wear black clothes or armbands during a formal mourning period. I used to think that it was kind of quaint, and was a way to honor those who have died. Maybe that is true, but I think it is more than that: it is a warning.

It shows others that we're not ourselves.

It warns others that if they do something wrong, we have the right to be irrational and holler at them. We may even thank them for being the target of our pent up feelings.

It announces that we may cry at the drop of a hat, and forget things, and may be wearing two different colored shoes.

It lets them know that we need love just the way we are, as crazy as we are, as we try to heal.

I vote we bring this practical custom back.

Don't mess with the crazy person, indeed...This is exactly how I feel... I don't want to only wear black... but I wish I could slap on a black armband and people would know what it meant... but to be honest if I saw someone with a black armband I'd probably think it was some reference to Nazis, neo-nazis or gangs... unless it was like a whole soccer team or something. Mourning wouldn't even cross my mind... or at least it wouldn't have in the past.

Stick or Run?
You'll start finding out who your friends really are.....

Being widowed is a crucible, and you'll find out pretty quickly who can stand the heat. I found that people almost universally broke into four different groups:

-- RUNNERS--it was almost like they thought cancer was contagious, and once my husband had passed away, the rest of them ran so they wouldn't have to deal with me, or their own uncomfortable feelings, or whatever. I say, good riddance.

-- MEAN WELL-ers--say they want to help, and genuinely feel bad about things--for awhile. This is human nature, that other things in life happen, their schedules and priorities don't mesh with yours, or that they get tired of always seeing you cry. I don't bear them any ill will, because I understand exactly why it happens.

-- LOOKY-LOOS--who want to be part of your story. The drama appeals to them, either to live it with you, or so they gossip to others how much they know, and how much they've helped you. You can either weed these people out, or just ignore them and keep your personal business away from them...........unless you want it broadcast to the known world.

-- JEWELS AND GEMS--those rarest of rare friends, the ones who understand that if you call at 11 PM saying, "I can't stand to be in my house alone tonight" that means they need to get in their car, bring a toothbrush, and sleep on your sofa. These are the rare ones that go out of their way to include you in their holidays or their outings (even if you do kill all the conversation the moment you show up), who check in with your answer machine every day (because you're so demented you don't answer the phone anymore) just to say they're thinking of you , and that they love you. or who surround you as a buffer at those tough social situations.

I'm so very, insanely glad that for the most part I've only seen the gems... There are always going to be the well-mean-ers... and honestly I think that those relationships break down from a lack of friend-chemistry more than anything else... It's hard to be there for someone with whom you don't have anything in common or whom you just don't "click" with... Plus you have to build up "relationship points" (I'll try to explain that in my next blog) and it's hard to build up those points without any common experiences. I've only run into a few looky-loos and runners, but as I mentioned I'm incredibly lucky, because I have 15-20 jewels and gems that I can think of just off the top of my head, and so many more that would be if we just lived in the same place.

Want to HELP someone who's been widowed?
Advice for friends and family

Trying to help someone who's been through loss can be tough. You may offer help, and they may turn you down, they may cry a lot or not show up when you've invited them somewhere. Here's a few ideas on how you can help:

-- Don't lead, FOLLOW. The new widow may not know where they are leading you, or what they'll need tomorrow, but you can just be there when they need it.

-- Give advice cautiously--Don't tell the new widow what to do, unless absolutely necessary (like nuclear disarmament necessary) or unless they ask you. Really. This is their story, and their grief may lead them in all sorts of directions that may not make sense to you, but may be part of their healing.

--Let them go at their own pace . Different people grieve different ways, at different speeds. She may be having a great week, then suddenly have a very tough time with grief. This is normal.

-- Be aware they're not going to be "themselves" for awhile--It's nothing personal, but you may look at your friend or family member and wonder where they've gone, and who is the alien that has taken their place. Grief, like any major life event, changes people.

A lot of times I look at myself and wonder where I've gone and who this needy alien is... But knowing that I have people who love me no matter what alien shows up today is a huge comfort... though I'm not totally sure that I agree with that first suggestion about not leading...It's true I don't know where I'm leading... but it's also true that sometimes I really just want someone else to take over and boss me around and tell me what to do... I'm not used to having this much control over my life. Just give me the plan and let me approve it. Options are overwhelming.

When looking at widows.....
...DON'T JUDGE THEM.

Some will get in a new relationship and be remarried within weeks or months of their spouse's death. Some will blow their money, or neglect their kids, or go through men like potato chips. Some will request meds for depression, and some won't.

To you, the behavior may make no sense, but to them, it is their way...THEIR WAY....of surviving.

Love them anyway, and only interfere if they're doing something really, really stupid (recreational drugs, etc).

Kara told me that the only thing I could do that would be wrong, right now would be to go out get drunk and bring some guy home for the night... and since I don't think mourning gives you a pass on morality... and I'm soooo not the type anyway, I think I'm pretty safe... but it's nice to hear someone saying that I shouldn't be judged since I so often fear other people judgments... I'm not a judger and I think I'm a reasonably cool person... and I think I'm handling this as well as can be expected... through a lot of heavenly grace and a lot of earthly support... but oooh how I hate to think that someone is out there disparaging me and the way I have to handle this. I just want everyone to love me and think I'm awesome... even the Taliban... the only reason they don't love me is cause they don't know me.

Right?

Right, guys?

Got a lot of livin'

To be fair, in the midst of my rough day, yesterday I did have some happy times.

My cousin, Becca, is visiting. Plus she, several other friends, and I got together and played a game last night, and that was a lot of fun...Opportunities to laugh are precious- especially in the midst of the day I had.

Today was easier emotionally... but I did sit in the middle of my living room floor for 5 hours just organizing all the insurance papers and hospital bills. Don't ever get cancer.. it's bad for the environment.

Today I got Valentine's cookies from Bill and Paula... and a friend stopped by and gave me a hug... I'm not a touchy kinda gal, but hugs are pretty nice... at least if I consider you a friend they are... If we barely know each other... maybe not... I think after the funeral and the hundreds of handshakes, people want to give me space.. and sometimes I want it... and sometimes I wish that someone would reach out to me....

I think that's one of the weirdest parts of my current state of grief... I want to be totally left alone... except that I want people to give me hugs... I want to take a nap... so I don't and am up until 1:30, 1:45,  2:00 writing a blog post. I decide to let someone else handle the insurance stuff... so I spend 5 hours getting it organized. I'm just a big ball of contradictions... a conundrum pie. I mean I know I'm a girl and supposedly have a proclivity to being totally contradictory in what I want... but I've never been that type of girl... Nathan would have testified... I'm more a steady, reliable (predictable) kinda gal... And now looking at myself from the outside I think- "That's it! She's gone loco!"

Today someone said to me, "Oh you're the widow. The widow of that young man." Please, Lord, don't let that be my defining characteristic for long. I don't want to live a life defined by his death. I can't stay in that ICU room in my mind... I've got a lot of living to do... leastaways that's what Conrad Birdie would tell me.

There is no normal

I have wonderful friends. Spent yesterday with several of them, and I can say with great authority that they are wonderful.

I'm doing laundry today.. It's been such a long time that I pretty well have 5 loads...But it's not all my clothes! Towels, Sheets, some of Nathan's things... that's all in there, too. I mean I have a fair amount of clothes and all... but I just wanted to be clear lest you judge me. I know of course that you won't, but I have a tendency to choose safe over sorry.

I read a widow book... I think it best to start using this term, because like "cancer" it's something I have to get used to and avoiding it doesn't do me a lot of good. Anyway the book was relatively helpful... It's odd to me that anyone under the age of 45 is considered to be a "young widow." Not that I at all begrudge sharing the title with whomever wants to be called a "young widow" but it does make me feel even more odd. I had started thinking that 27 was getting older... Not old, just getting old... Getting to be someone who should have their life figured out... But since everything has happened I don't feel that way anymore. I feel like I'm just a kid. I'm glad we got married a little young so that we could have 2 years of "normal" marriage before everything went crazy, but now I look at my life and wonder how in the world there has been time to deal with everything I/we faced. He hadn't even turned 26 yet. And if he'd been 43 I'd still be a "young widow?" I'm a baby widow!

The widow book did say something that I disagree with... It says, "Widows are angry. That's a fact. Some admit it , some deny it-- and some don't even know it." Maybe it's the generality of this statement that I dislike... or maybe I am in denial, but I'm not angry. Sad, yes. Upset, yes. Have a possibility of taking this sadness and upset-ness out on well-meaning people, yes. But I'm not angry.  I don't understand. I never will understand why this had to happen... but the only thing that's left for me is trust in God's plan. If I didn't believe that God had a plan I'd never be able to get through this, and yes I probably would be incredibly angry. But I know that Nathan's doctors and nurses were fighting just as hard as we were, and I know that Nathan was fighting harder than any of us. Our hand got forced by the disease over and over and over... and while I will maintain that Cancer Sucks forever, there is little use in getting mad at a disease. It isn't going to apologize or feel remorse. It isn't going to feel anything at all, and I can't keep that kind of hate and anger inside myself, cause it will hurt my soul just as badly as the cancer hurt Nathan's body.

That said, there are a lot of other things in the book that I really identified with and understood. Most of all I found it entirely encouraging that pretty much anything that I feel or think or do is within the range of "normal." Mainly because there is no normal when faced with this kind of situation.... (except apparently to be angry... Bit of a contradiction, that). And other people had told me that.. but you know how it's different when someone who doesn't *have* to say it (cause they are looking you right in the face) does.

I don't want people to avoid talking about Nathan around me. I miss him and I like hearing stories about him, and in a way it validates me. I don't want for him to become the white elephant in the room. I'd rather talk about him and tear up every once in a while than feel like he's forgotten and cry by myself. I know I'm awfully good at pretend, but I don't want to pretend him away. I don't think I could.