Steps

So much has happened in the last two weeks that my head is still slightly spinning. My last post was on August 8th...then I landed in San Diego for round two of Camp Widow on August 9th. It couldn't have been more perfect timing. I saw my amazing friend from CW East

And met some new amazing friends

But most of all...I got my widow fix. I say fix because it's almost like a drug. Being with the people that understand what you are thinking without even having to speak is an extremely powerful state of mind. It felt like I was home. Even though I was 934 miles from my Idaho home, and 3082 miles from my New Hampshire home...my heart and soul were at home. 

After CW I headed back east and was on a sort of high. I finished my last week of pediatrics (which I absolutely loved), took a couple exams, packed my stuff to move to yet another location for 5 weeks, and then headed back west for another emotionally packed weekend. 

We laid Kevin's ashes to rest in the Cedarville Cemetery and on the top of Payne's Peak. About three weeks before he died we randomly had a conversation about death, and about his wishes. We had this conversation out of blind naivety because that would never happen right? Neither one of us would die before the age of 90...right? In this conversation he said he wanted to be cremated and he wanted his ashes spread with his Grandpa Grady.  I had never been to the top of Payne's Peak but I knew it must have been very special for him. Once I got up there I knew why. It was perfect, it was serene, it was Kevin. 

Kevin's family, my family, and friends were the perfect company to share this extremely important event with me. I couldn't have asked for a better day. I know he and Grandpa Grady were smiling down on us and proud of the steps we've all made toward healing. 

 Family for life

 

Family for life

Aunt Theresa filled red balloons with Forget-Me-Nots and we released them after the ashes were spread

 

 Some very important and loved friends

 

 Couldn't have done any of this without my family by my side

 The whole gang

Three Years

Today would be, should be, and is my three year wedding anniversary. This is one of the first big days I had to get through last year and I remember it so clearly, and yet, not so clearly all at the same time. I remember that it was the first day of my finals and I was SO lost. It was a combination of fog, bitterness, depression, anxiety, and reality all at the same time. Writing has always been a way for me to cope and deal with my grief. I write on here, in my journal, on a napkin in the coffee shop...anywhere to get what is going on in my head out and into the world. Writing has been a way to process what my life once was, and what it is now.

Today I remembered that I started writing letters to myself last year on the big days. The bad days. The days I needed to survive and not just get through. I wanted to read them in exactly one year as a way to gauge my progress and journey. I dug through all my things until I finally found a folder labeled "Letters to You." This is an excerpt from my letter to me on 8/8/11:

It has definitely been the worst 45 days of your life. I woke up feeling  completely exhausted from a combination of anxiety and Konrad bouncing off the walls. Today is the first day of finals and I am far from ready.  I woke up with a tiny ounce of irrationality thinking there would be flowers, or something from Kevin for me.  I felt completely nauseated all morning and on the verge of tears. After my test I was exhausted and started to walk home when I stopped in the middle of the street, frozen. Part of me wanted to go tell the world that it was my anniversary so they would feel sorry for me. Part of me wanted to drive to the ocean and stay there all day. And another part just wanted to get completely wasted and pass out until the next miserable day came. 

I feel like I'm living in hell. However, somehow, I do see glimpses of hope that help me strive to one day be happy again. I hope today is better than 8/8/11 was.

It all feels so familiar, and so far away. I remember feeling so hopeless and desperately clinging to the tiny bit of hope that someday it wouldn't feel like the deep, dark, pits of hell forever. Today was better than 8/8/11. I smiled (my real smile), I laughed (my real laugh), and I KNEW that 8/8/13 will be even better than today was. Those were three things that I was completely incapable of last year. And I know that Kevin would be proud of where I am today...that means more to me than any accomplishment in the past year ever will.

To say these last two weeks have been emotional would be an understatement. To say I've been sad, depressed, happy, excited, full of grief, full of energy...well...bipolar, would be more accurate.


August 8th I should be expecting flowers, cards, gifts...something in the mail from my husband. Because that would be our third wedding anniversary. Instead...August 18th I will be spreading my husband's ashes in the same place that his grandfather's were spread many years ago. So instead of a wonderful, happy, exciting, "leather anniversary" (apparently the third anniversary is supposed to be leather gifts), I will be spreading my husband's ashes that currently lay in a wooden urn.

So that is the reason these past few weeks have been...difficult to say the least.

Tonight I had some drinks with a very good friend...one who has been through what I am going through and just "gets it." It was very nice to bounce the insaneness of my life right now off someone who just completely understands how insane life really is. As I was driving home a song by Leona Lewis came on and I just lost it...big surprise considering I have been losing it alot these last few weeks. The song was "Better in Time." It was one of those songs that is obviously about a big, fat, sad break up...but some of the lyrics still apply to what widow/ers go through. Lost love, it gets better, yada, yada, yada, etc, etc.

After the song was over I started to come out of my cry coma when something else stopped my heart and made me dial the number of a fellow widow I met at Camp Widow East in April. She's the author of the blog I mentioned in my last post.

Anyway...my radio was tuned into Delilah ...the romantic radio personality that I normally despise but just happened to stay tuned for the moment. The next caller is what provoked me to dial Cassie's number. He said:

"This is Kevin, I just wanted to let my wife know that I love her very much. There were some circumstances beyond our control and we can't be together right now. We met 5 years ago (Kevin and I met 5 years ago) and I have loved her ever since. I want her to know that I am always with her, and she will always be the love of my life."

I'm not kidding, this really happened...whether it was a coincidence, or whatever...my heart is still beating fast and hard from this. It made me cry, laugh, and smile all at the same time. My heart wept and lept at the same time. I instantly knew I had to return to Camp Widow West.  I felt at home for the first time after Kevin died at Camp Widow East and I knew I needed to return. It is next weekend, just in time. I made the plane tickets and registered the instant I got home.

San Diego Widows, here I come. I need you more than ever and I know you will not disappoint!