Self, I love you.

Alone is a new concept for me. So first let me say, I know I am not really alone. I am surrounded by love, grace and gratitude. But, and there is always a but, I am marching solo these days. Maybe marching isn't the word, lurching maybe, stumbling probably, frozen in place sometimes. One step forward and two steps back marching. Not exactly a marching band, but a sketchy little soloist without  sheet music.

I'm not really one of those people who likes to be alone, so I can only assume God has a special plan for me right now. I love nurturing others, but I kinda suck at nurturing myself. Learning opportunity right there in front of me. I am way better in small groups, than in large. In large groups I am an avid listener, but a hesitant sharer. I need to find my words and take them to the world.

Living alone encourages self talk, and talking to ones self. I'm good at talking to myself. I have complete conversations about the dinner menu (does a martini and a whole bag of chips count as eating clean?) I have conversations with the audience of dogs who follow me into the bathroom regularly. Yes, I can pet all 3 of you while I 'multitask'. I talk about the pile I just stepped in, or the winter roads, or the injustice of loss.

What if I talked about how life piled up on me, how slippery it got and how I'm going to gently love myself forward? Yes, I'm talking about self care. I'm going to be vocal about it. Self, it's okay to have regrets. Self, I know you grieve, and you will always grieve. Self, you are not the same person now that you were then, so those mistakes are now lessons. Self, do not be ashamed of where you are in life. Self, you deserve more. Self, I think you are beautiful. Self, this alone time is a gift of discovery. Self, I love you. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

Alone is not a bad place to be, even if I tend to meet it with resistance. It's time find my words, write a new story and unfold my self. 

Picking Up The Pieces

I never expected, at this stage in life, to be trying to find the new me and create a new life. The old me is gone, so I have no choice. I never expected to find kinship with the grieving the easier path. I envy those who haven't had the pain and give thanks for their innocence. 

I look back at my life with Gordon and see two separate people. One I thought I knew and one I clearly didn't. I could be referring to him, I could be referring to me. I will continue to look back and wish it had gone different. I will always regret how it ended. 

Like pieces of a picture torn to shreds, I have to pick up and carry on. So while I stumble often, into a new life I go. I find it curious, that when a young person loses a spouse, how quickly we are to say you are young, you will find love again. Why don't we offer the same assurance to those of other ages? Love comes in so many forms. Let's leave age out of it.

Let's encourage the hurting and support them. Let's not make assumptions, let's leave stigma at the door. Now I understand that my experience represents one of the scary things that can happen in life. So in some ways I make people uncomfortable. In past years I would have felt that discomfort because of my lack of experience. This experience has been brutal, but with this experience comes empathy.

Some will never share their grief, their story, their regret, their longing. Everyone grieves a loss in their own way and time. I put mine into words, for others along the path who may not have words. Try to remember the hurting often pull it all together and present like any other person. Inside they have broken parts. We all have broken parts, now that I think of it.

As you/me/we go on with life, be gentle. Acknowledging the hurt promotes the healing. So hold my hand as I go on, and I will hold yours as you go on.

Stupid Stuff

I want to talk about the stupid stuff people say. I'll be the first to admit I have said stupid stuff, and no doubt I will do it again. It's part of being human, of floundering, of filling gaps with words that seem plausible, but miss the mark.  We all miss the mark sometimes.

I can only assume having lost someone to suicide that people don't know how to bridge the gap between us. Likely they are scared, the reality that it could happen to anyone (and does) makes it too close, too personal. Nobody wants to be reminded that tragic, traumatic things happen. Survivors of suicide are frightening in that way. It's scary for us too, we know the horizon has shifted. We don't know quite where we fit either. 

For the record, no, I couldn't have just hidden anti depressants in his food. No, I don't know what a crime scene is like. I do know what a horribly sad ending to life looks like. No, I won't get over it, but I will get through it. No, I'm not as strong as you think. I simply have to chose life even in it's smallest forward movements. No, never mentioning life before Gordon's death doesn't make it easier. It in fact makes it harder. Yes, I do have things to share about my weekend, even if I am a widow and lead a very quiet life. Yes, I weep frequently. I've always been an easy weeper, in fact it is quite healing. I would rather cry over a sadness, or a loving gesture, or sheer beauty, than to never cry at all. Yes, I do believe he is in a better place, but that doesn't erase the suffering he carried until he could carry it no more. Yes, I know many don't speak of it in front of me, but I know it gets whispered behind me. Their version, about what happened, or think they heard about what happened and why it happened. That judgment, where there should only be compassion, causes me to retreat. It's sometimes easier feel the hurt by myself, to keep a distance, to be closed instead of open for love. I'd much rather to be open for love.

I get that comments are made in a haphazard, even stupid manner. With no intent to be hurtful. Often with every intent to be helpful. I try to wash them with grace. I get that this journey is nearly impossible to fathom unless you have experienced it yourself. I still struggle with it, I will always struggle with it. 

I have no doubt that I owe some apologies, over the years, for stupid stuff I have said. I pray the universe will accept my apologies and also my gratitude for now understanding how this happens. I'm a work in progress on a rough difficult path. Lead me, guide me, forgive me, fill me with gentle words for those hard moments in life.