Toxic Humans and Me.

Today, I did something. I deleted and blocked a person from my life, that was toxic, to me. I decided to test the person first. I was right with my suspicions. Even though I know there’s no respect for me from said person, I will respect their privacy, and not share their name. But here goes!

Hello? Who the hell would come at me, expecting to have even the slightest chance at mentally abusing me? Who. The FUCK. do you think I am? Let me spell it out…

I’m the woman who had a rough start at life, being pulled from my parents and put into foster care, in first grade.

I went to 13 different schools, and didn’t graduate.

Lived on my own from age 15-17, couch surfing, and working, trying my damndest to stay alive.

I am the woman who met the man of her dreams, married him, had a baby, and Created a BEAUTIFUL family.

I took my adult ass to get my GED, then went to college, so I could set a better example for my baby girl.

I never gave up on my career. When I wasn’t being respected and given the pay I knew I was worth, for my position, I left.

When I felt as though I wasn’t getting paid my worth at my next job, I applied elsewhere to see what I could be making, and fought for it. I got it.

I am the woman who lost her husband, unexpectedly, on a Wednesday morning, while he was at work, my child at school, and myself too busy to realize he never read my text that morning.

I have been through hell. I walk through hell regularly. I don’t need toxic people in my life, and I WILL remove you.

I am a positive, uplifting, forgiving human. I love people. I love my family, my friends and my career. I believe everyone deserves a second chance.

I ALSO believe my opinion matters. Your opinions matter. Even if I disagree with them, they matter, because they are YOURS!

But know, I don’t fucking play.

9 Months A Widow

A lot can happen in 9 months. Hell, you can conceive a baby, have it grow from one cell into a newborn baby in that little of time. 

Your heart can break over and over and over, in that amount of time. 

Your daughter can experience her first boyfriend AND first breakup in that short of time. 

Good god, I miss the crap out of you. Your easy laugh. Your bright smile. Even your stinky ass feet. 

I miss random, goofy Facebook posts, and random texts. 

I miss it all, but I am trying to find my “happy”. 

You’d be proud of Zaida, Katy, and Michael! They’ve done SO good these last 9 months. Hannah is beautiful, and Katy and Bobby are doing so good with her!! Zaida is going to Emporia! Michael has the same job, and he’s killin it. 

Summer and Boni, Heather, John John, Savannah, and Jack are all doing well. (I haven’t heard anything bad really) 

John and Tracey, Mike, Dee, grandma Kathleen and Aunt Cindy, and Grandpa Parsons all keep up with us, and haven’t lost touch. 

Every single one of us misses you. 

That will never change. 
I am working out, regularly. I am COOKING! I am making it a point to hang out with my friends, new and old. 
It’s been exactly 9 months, since you’ve gone on, to whatever came next for you. I really hope that wherever you are, you are happy, pain free, and hanging with all the greats! Going by the life you led, here on earth, you deserve the best, wherever you have gone. 

You were one HELLUVA human being! I am so proud that you chose me, out of all the choices you had to pick from. 

I was one lucky bitch! 

I think you’d be proud of me, too. I mean, that’s what everyone tells me, and I am starting to believe it. 

I am more serious than ever to eat right, work out regularly, and am already signed up for 10 obstacle course races for next year, and am about to make it 11. Meg joins me for all of the CTG races, because she is AMAZING in the merch tent. Good God she is fantastic with people, just like you always were! 

Her teachers (most of them) love her, and she jokes with them on their level, but also as a child. You know, like the Shrek movies! PG enough for kids, but funny for adults too. 

I am trying to encourage her to be more physically actuve, but, it’s not working, right now. 

I am terrified of being a solo mom, to a teenage girl! I was TOTALLY relying on you to be around for the “daddy’s girl” part, because it’s inevitable, all teenag  girls hate their moms for some portion of their teen lives. I don’t want to do it! I will survive it, but it’s going to suck when that time comes, and kicks me in the ass. 

But I’ll keep moving. I’ll keep “mom-ing”. I’ll try to be everything I can be, and everything that you were for her. 

I am only human. But, I will try. 

I hope you are proud of me. I make sure I’m a good person, and always am considerate of those around me. I really do think about all the ways you were a better human than most people I know. And when I say better than most, there are a very few humans who are equally as good as you were. But, when I meet one, I acknowledge them. 

Oh! And another thing you’d be so proud of!! 

I cooked dinner tonight! A super healthy, tasty dish, and even made a healthy bread to go with it!  I wish I knew how to cook like this, before, because I’m slaying the kitchen, now! 

I made chicken “ala King”. Onions and leeks and coconut cream, and red peppers and spices! I am so excited about this new food adventure I am on! I never want to stop! Not kidding, I’ve spent so much on groceries this week because I didn’t have the staple ingredients for healthy cooking/baking. Now I do. 

It.

Is.

On!

Not only did I make a meal from scratch, I freaking cleaned the kitchen afterward! This is where you’d pat me on the back and say “welcome to my world!” That’s what you did all the time! It may not have always been healthy, but, by god, you could cook! 

I remember the day I overheard you tell me friends that you enjoyed cooking. I though, “Holy damn! JACKPOT!”  I didn’t like cooking. Now, however, it’s another way to release the stresses of everyday life. I am learning, from an amazing human, about cooking, and eating clean. No one has ever taken the time to say “get this brand, over this because *insert reason here*” it is so much better when you have the reasons as to WHY one is better than the other, and CHEAP is always a favorite word! 

So, I am here, in this world, missing you, in your new world, but, I am O K. We are O K. It sucks, but we will live, until it’s our time to exit this world, and possibly,  join you in your world. 
 

So much love to you, Mitchell John. No matter what EVER happens in THIS world, my new world without you, I will NEVER stop loving you. No matter who I date, if I ever fall in love again and wind up remarried, I will NEVER. STOP. LOVING. YOU! Never. You are my number 1, and most notable love of my life. 

You are my Mitch. 

My hero. 

My soul mate. 

Love you always, 

Tabbie

Today, I Put Up Curtain Rods and Curtains, by Myself.

I’ll start with admitting that I love power tools. I do not own any power tools, though. 

I went to IKEA, to pick up curtains and rods and things to hang the rods and everything. 

I get home and have been super busy, until tonight. 

I put up those curtain rods, and hung my curtains. I don’t even have a leveler! 

It’s just another thing that I took for granted. I never had to do any of the stuff that a man would “typically” do. 

But I did it, today. I’ve done it, for eight months, 2 weeks and 2 days. 

I built a book shelf. I’ve hung shelves. I have gone to the car dealership, and bought a brand new car. I’ve hung photos, and art. I have hosted a party. 

I have done the cooking, the cleaning, the driving, the nurturing, the punishing, the praising, and the caring, when it comes to Meg. 

I have been playing the role of 2 people for these 8.5 months. 

I used the winnings from a scratch-off ticket (that my awesome, amazing brother bought me for my bday), to buy all of my adult-like curtains. 

I work. I pay the bills. I rarely sit down. 

This life is go-go-go! 

I am learning, and will continue to do so, how to find the happiness. I will always find the silver lining, sure. Being truly happy is something that can be tricky. I have to tell myself, “It is okay to laugh, Tabbie! It. Is. Ok!” 

Not all the time, but sometimes. You may catch it on my face, every now and then. I will have a thought, and my face feels like it loses all the blood supply. My mouth goes slack, and my heart skips a beat. I, sometimes, will cry right after, or the feeling will pass. 

It. Is. Okay. To Smile! 

It is. 

I know it is. 

Sometimes, there is a memory that makes my chest ache, because I know, I’ll never see or hear Mitch again. I’ll never sit and listen to him tell jokes, or watch him make a whole room of strangers fall in love with him. 

I’ll never lay with him, again. I’ll never hold his hand or kiss his lips. 

I’ve, honestly, come to terms with all of  this. But, every now and then, it sneaks up, and bites me, right in the heart. 

How could it not? It’s only been 8 months, 2 weeks, and 2 days! Not even a whole year. 

The way my mind has worked through all of this, completely surprises me. I never knew I had it in me. 

I lost the man who had my whole heart, for longer than any other person in my life. 

Before he died, I thought, many times (because, again, we had some pretty fucking morbid conversations, during our life together), that I would lose my mind, if he died first. 

I used to tell Mitch, “there are three people on this planet that their death would put me in a mental ward.” I believed it would be him, my brother Brady, and Megan. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’d be devastated if I lost any of my brothers. But, throughout life, Brady has been through almost every journey, WITH me. From foster care, to our mom’s not-so-great choices of boyfriends, high school, the loss of our step brother, our uncle, and most recently, the loss of his best friend, his “brother”, my husband. 

We have a closer bond than any of my other siblings and I.  It’s just how life worked out. 

But, now. I think back to those conversations with Mitch, all those times, through the years. 

I had no idea I had it in me, to carry on, to keep moving forward. 

Everyone at work knows about Mitch, obviously, but when I meet new people, be they reps or new docs, or new nurse hires, I tell them “Hi, my name is Tabbie, and I was widowed in January. My late hisbabd’s name is Mitch, and I tell you this because I openly speak about it, regularly.”

After the initial shock and stumbling over their “I’m so sorry!” everyone asks! EVERYONE! It’s okay! It gives me a chance to talk about how awesome he was, and how it’s so important to know your family history, and to have yourself checked regularly, if heart disease runs in your family. 

It really opens people’s eyes, because after we chat, they’ll ask me “how old was he, if you don’t mind?” And when I tell them he was only 34, their jaws hit the floor. It never fails. It CAN happen to you! 

This birthday, 10/10/2017, my 35th, was the first birthday I spent without Mitch, since my 17th birthday. I was with him for my 18th bday, through every birthday after, until this one. I did okay. Much better than expected, on my birthday. 

Megan’s bday is coming up, and I’m not quite sure what to expect. We are going to worlds of fun, again. Last year, Mitch and I took 6 or 7 girls to worlds of fun, for Meg’s 12th bday. Now I’ll be taking Meg and 3-4 friends, by myself. I’m positive memories are going to bring me to my knees, but, I guess I won’t really know until we are there. I’ve surprised myself before…

With that, I wish you good night. I’ll tell you sweet dreams. 

He. 

I like him. 

It hurts, but it is also amazing. 

I like him. 

He isn’t afraid of Mitch. 

He isn’t afraid of my grieving process. 

I like him. 

He isn’t jealous of Mitch.

He understands.

Not completely, but he underatands enough to allow me to grieve. 

He is kind.

I like him.

He cares.

I like him.

I won’t tell everyone his name, for I am afraid not everyone will be okay with my liking him, but, I will tell you, he is kind, understanding, affectionate, and caring. He doesn’t want to replace Mitch, he is 100% okay, coming after him. He thinks Meg is an awesome kid. He thinks I am amazing. 

I don’t know how long we will last, but, I’d be okay knowing I met a man as amazing as he, after knowing and being with Mitch for so long. 

I will say I was unlucky to lose Mitch, no doubt! I was, however, lucky to have gotten half of his lifetime. Half of it, with me. I grew up with him. I learned from him. I taught him. We loved and lived for each other. He shaped me into the woman I am. 

This new one. He knows that I wouldn’t be the woman I am, without those years with Mitch. He would thank Mitch, if he could, for helping to shape me into me. 

How can I be so unlucky, yet so insanely lucky at the same time? 

Trust me, saying, to myself, that I’m “lucky” is a very hard, strange thing. I have to separate the things that are unlucky (Mitch passing away), and the things that count as “lucky”: having 16.5 years with one of the most amazing men on the planet, followed by someone who is amazing and awesome in his own way. I must have been one hell of a saint In My previous life, because, to deserve the men who walk into my life, and choose to stay, (the good ones) I must have done something amazing, right? 

I have to admit, that I am a bit on the odd side. I am not afraid to share how I feel, and for me, that makes them uncomfortable. Luckily, I have learned that the ones who feel uncomfortable with how I feel are the ones that aren’t worth my time. The one who sticks around and understands, or at least tries, is someone worth trying for. 

He texts me, every night, “good night, hottie! Sweet dreams”

And every morning he sends me “good morning! Hope your day is amazing!” Text. 

That, in and of itself, is quite amazing to me. 

I like him. 

It’s Really Been 8 Months and 1 Day. 


8 Months and 1 day. 

Mitch and I would always joke about how we couldn’t remember life without each other. Like we had been together forever. Our minds may have blocked all things prior to our getting together. 

It’s strange though. I mean, the sensations are awkward for me. I remember every single thing, about him being here. I remember his laugh. I remember his voice. I remember how he would try to be all sexy, and fall off of the bed.  I remember everything. It is how my mind works. 

I am so lucky to have been blessed with the life, and love of Mitch Wood. 16.5 years of being loved like I was a queen. 16.5 years of being doted on, of always being right, of bliss. 

For the last 8 months, I have learned that there are people who you thought you could trust, who you absolutely cannot trust, and there are people who you think are something they are not. I have found that some of my favorite people are, obviously, my and Mitch’s families. (They are all my family, but, for clarification purposes, I’ll say Mitch’s fam). 

There have been times where my intuition was wrong. I was guided into the wrong direction, because I felt like it was right. I haven’t really had to rely much on intuition, or my “feelies” as I refer to them, in a very long time, because I didn’t have anyone trying to get close to me, intimately. My feelies are rusty. They’re getting better. I am reading people better and better every day. 

8 Months ago, I was absolutely terrified of living alone, as I had NEVER lived by myself, let alone caring for another human life! 

Now, I am doing it. I am paying the bills, I have savings. I pay for Meg to play sports. 

I. Am. Doing. It!

I even remember to feed the cat! 

As hard as the last 8 months has been, physically, emotionally, and mentally, I have learned so much! 

Some things are things I didn’t want to learn, ever, in all my life. (Hello, being a widow isn’t something I wanted to learn how to do!)  But other things, like learning that I can be independent. I am good at being independent. 

I have learned that, because I went to college, and then fought for a raise, so that I was being paid what I was worth, I can afford to pay ALL of my bills, save money, AND play. I never would have imagined that would have been possible. Not in a million years. 

Now, please, don’t get me wrong. I know that money doesn’t create happiness. But, paying the bills, without worry, relieves stress. 

That was one thing that we worried about more than anything. We always worried about it. We had enough to pay the bills, and started to figure out how to keep some extra, but, some new debt collector would pop up, and there it all went, again. That was the story of our lives. 

Now, I only have one after me, and they’re stupid. An old apartment complex I lived at had a horrible flea problem, prior to me having any animals, ANNNNND some water damages caused by the pipes in the apartment, and they are charging me $2000, for the carpet. I called multiple times about the fleas, and when I called about the water leaking from my lights, it took them 3 days to come out and fix it. I told them to send it to collections, because I’m not paying it. Crazy bastards. 

I learned that I can negotiate like none other! It took all night long, but I got a new car, and got the price down to what I wanted it to be. I also got he interest as low as I could get it, with my crappy credit. But, I learned I could do it! 

When I cry, now, it’s for less time than before. It’s at the memories of Mitch, that, first, make me laugh, then I cry, because he is gone. 

I look at pictures, and sometimes, they kill me. Other times, I laugh and retell the story behind the photos, inducing laughter from anyone who is around. 

Megan has even started saying things like “remember when daddy would do *insert goofy shit here*,” and start laughing. 

Within the last 8 months, Meg and I have had so much personal growths, and have had to deal with things we never wanted to deal with. 

We have cried. 

We have broken down, to where we had to pull off the side of the road, and hold each-other. 

We have been immensely sad, and heart-broken. 

We have learned. 

We have grown. 

We have found some semblance of happiness, in this post Mitch Wood world. 

We are moving, ever forward. 

One step at a time. 

One day at a time. 

One week.

One month. 

Each day, we put one foot in front of the other. But we never forget the life Mitch gave us. We never forget his huge heart, or his goofy faces. We never forget the pride he showed, any time Meg accomplished something she was working for, whether it was a math problem, or catching in softball. 

Keep moving, but never forget anything.

#OneFootInFrontOfTheOther

#MitchWood

#LoveAlways

Do Me A Favor


The next time you happen to come across a widow, of any age, engage. 

Ask them questions, but not about being a widow, or about their late husband or late wife. 

Ask them how their job is. Ask them about their gramdkids. Ask them about their desires in life. 

Ask them their drink of choice, and buy them a drink, even if it’s just an iced tea or a drink. Pepper. 

Tell them they are strong, because they are. As a widow myself, I know the strength it takes to take each step every day. I know the feeling of being judged, for things that only feel natural. 

I know the pain of wanting something more, but, being afraid of loss. 

I know the feeling of loss. I know the feeling of fear that I’ll lose my extra family, if I fuck up. (Even if it is mostly an irrational fear). 

I told my work fam that I was going to start dating. A woman, a coworker, who I love, very much tells me, every time I see her, “Tabbie, you know I think it’s too soon.” 

Love you, lady, but, I will be the judge of that. Kissy face emoji. 

I don’t take it bad that she tells me this. She cares about me. She worries about my heart, mind, and soul. 

She also knows that I am very strong-willed and would never do anything that I had ANY doubts about. I only go full force if I am 100% sure. 

I am 100% sure. 

I’m moving forward. 

I am taking each step as they come. 

I am terrified, but excitement is there, as well. 

I received the most amazing of messages, it had me crying my eyes out. And honestly, as I was screenshotting and cropping to hide the identity of the sender, I, obviously, read the messages again, and started crying… again. 


Amen! Life is NOT about the breathtaking moments. It’s about the moments that take your breath away. ❤️

Let your breath be stolen. And let it be stolen often. 

Cherish those moments. 

Love with your whole heart. It’s scary, but worth it. Holding back doesn’t allow for the full feelings to shine through. When you love wholeheartedly, you do things you would never do, in another case, or for another human. You go out of your way to make that person happy. 

I’m not fully vested in astrology, but, I do feel very in Line with my sign: Libra.

My sign says I bring balance. I believe that. I feel that is a true assessment of who I am as a human. I hate an imbalance in fairness, love, friendships, etc. 

I love to make people happy. 

I can’t help it. I don’t do too much, to make people happy, but I will be damned if I have a friend or loved one who is upset About anything that I have done. I will work to make it better. 

Anyway, I just wanted to share with y’all the amazing, heartfelt message I received. (Well, parts of it anyway). 

Goodnight, world. 

I Won’t Stop Sharing. 

There are things about me that I share too much. 

Not everyone needs to know all of my business.

But I won’t stop sharing. It’s not that I think everyone WANTS to know all of my business. I just put it out there. It makes me feel better. 

I have withheld, from a great many people, friends and family. But, all will come out, eventually. When the timing is right, and when I decide. I have actually been told by a couple of men that they either A: wanted me to write about them in my blog, or B: “Please don’t write about me!” I laughed at the guy who asked me not to write about him, because that’s what I do. I’m not going to tell you his name, but the idiot sent me a picture of his crotch! 🙄 

Yes, I’m jumping into dating. No, I’m not looking for “Mr. Right”. I just want to hang out, and have a good time, with an adult who may not know my entire history. Someone that I can have fun with (not necessarily of the sexual nature, either!) and then be okay with seeing or not seeing again. 

I am on a dating app, and I see people I know. I start laughing, and have swiped some, just to make things awkward (hey there sales rep! 😜). Ha! 

Right now, I’m just trying to make the best of this. I have most of my ducks, lined nicely, and orderly, and my child is well cared for. I deserve to have fun, every now and then. 

I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings for going out with people. That’s not my intention. I’m not “over” Mitch, and I know I’ve said it before, so I may be a bit repetitive, but, I’ll never be OVER Mitchell. Never. He is the most important human to have ever walked into my life, and that doesn’t go away. He gave me the best thing, any man can ever give a woman, and that was unconditional love, loyalty, and compassion. And, he always let me win the arguments. 😜 

Mitch set this bar, and this bar is so high. So, very, very high. It would never be fair to compare any other man to Mitch. The other man would lose every time. But it’s okay to give chances. It’s okay to expect the important things, like kindness, acceptance, and sense of humor. 

Another reason I am not looking for “Mr. Right”, is because it wouldn’t be fair to him, or to me. (Or to Megan, for crying out loud!) 

In the event that I found Mr. Right, tomorrow, and he loved me, like Mitch loved me, and wanted to give me the world, I would tear him apart. I obviously wouldn’t do it, on purpose, but, it would happen. Holidays are approaching, and I feel my heart becoming heavier, dreading Megan’s 13th birthday, and our first thanksgiving and Christmas without him. How fair would it be to have a man so into me, be crushed by something so natural? I couldn’t live happily with myself, hurting someone, even though it’s a natural process. 

As for me, I know, the man who gets my heart, next (if I ever give it away again), will be one lucky bastard. And I don’t mean that in a conceited way, either. I mean that in the way that I already know I’ll love harder. I’ll be more kind, and compassionate. It’s a different kind of love, that I’ll have. I already know. I’ll be the one giving my everything. What happens if I give my everything to someone, and they break me? That would be hard. It would hurt. That wouldn’t be fair. 

It’s also not fair to ask someone to match my level of wisdom, when they’re not me. They’re not walking my path. This is my path, that’s been laid out for me, and I must walk it, run it, or drag myself through it. I can’t ask people to wear my shoes. I can only tell you what my path is like. That’s the best I can do, and all I ask is for you to listen, without judgement. 

So, as for me dating, again. It’s for fun, and that’s about all I can give.  One day, I’ll be able to give more. One day, when I’m able to give more, I hope I run into the “first first date in 17 years”, man. He was fun, and funny, and good. And he is kind to the people he meets. That’s cool, right? I’ve read his customer reviews online (business owner/operator). All of his business reviews are 5/5 stars and mention him by name. That’s impressive. 

I find myself sensoring more. I mean, to be completely honest, I’ve friend-zoned one of my guy friends, and have my one female that I talk to. These two humans know EVERYTHING about me. Everything. Ins and outs of EVERYTHING. Every tiny detail, that people shouldn’t know. I’m letting them “shrink” me. Haha! Not really, but the guy that’s been friend-zoned is my insight into the single male brain, and my girlfriend is the insight into my mind. 

These two people are the best! I’ve thought about starting a group chat with them, so I could see their responses to my questions right by each-other. But, these two friends have allowed me to be a little more sensored. “Tabbie, you shouldn’t share that. That’s too much.” “If a woman made that offer to me, I’d be all over it, unless I was all up in my feelings about her.” These things make me smile, and think twice before sharing certain things. 

I decided I needed a single, straight guy friend, to help my understanding of the male brain. I thought about it, and remembered how in tune with my guy friends I used to be. I was always  one of the guys, growing up. And I’m not complaining, but I lost that touch, during the nearly 17 years with Mitch. I didn’t give a f*ck. I knew what MITCH liked and wanted, and that’s all I cared about. Everyone else could’ve fallen off a cliff, with their genitals ablaze, and I wouldn’t have noticed. 

#LiveLifeFree #BeYourBestYou #OneFootInFrontOfTheOther

17 Years…

If Mitch hadn’t have died, we would be celebrating 17 years, OFFICIALLY, together, today. 17! 

Now, I’m widowed. 

Today. Fucking. Sucks!

I avoided most of my Facebook “on this day” posts, so I could make it through the day, without losing my shit. 

I held myself together until about 3:30pm. I’ve been crying off and on since. 

It hurts so bad. So fucking bad. My chest hurts. Like it’s cracking open, all over again. 

I’m going to share the Facebook posts I’ve made throughout the years, wishing Mitch a happy anniversary. 


8/22/2010

OMIGOSH!!! With all that has been going on, I almost forgot! HAPPY 10 YEAR ANNIVERSARY Mitch Wood! ❤ YOU

8/22/2011

11 years ago, today, I asked this guy, “So, are we, like, a couple now?” And he responded, “Sure.” We have been together ever since. And. Happy bday Zaida!!!

8/22/2012

12 years ago, today, I stood outside of Mitch’s white mustang, as he sat in the driver’s seat, getting ready to head home. I leaned in the car, kissed him, and said, “So, are we, like, a couple, now?” And he said, “Sure.” We have been together since that day! Happy 12 years, Mitch McCullough Wood! I love you!!! 
And, HAPPY BIG 18 Zaida Wood!!!!! So, growed up, now!!! =( Love you Sis!! =D
8/22/2013

13 years ago, Mitch and I had a conversation, that went like this:
Me: So, are we, like, a couple, now?

Mitch: Sure.
And we’ve been together ever since. 😉 

8/22/2014

I got lazy:


Just kidding. I posted:

Mitch McCullough Wood. 14 years! Holy cow! We were 2 and 3 years younger than Zaida is now, when we made our relationship official. 

It feels like forever, in the way that I don’t remember a life without you. I can’t even imagine what life would be like without you, and your giant, confusing, crazy, fun family. And I don’t want to imagine that. 
I am the luckiest lady in the world to have you. 
The most significant word in our vocabulary: sure.
It’s amazing how one little word changed our lives, so incredibly.
I love you, and cannot wait to see what fun we can create in the future. 
 I know some people don’t even acknowledge their “dating anniversary”, but, most people don’t have their little sister’s birthday the same day, as a yearly reminder. 😘 
Speaking of that…
Happy birthday, Zaida. You have grown into such a beautiful woman, with an amazing heart, and I’m so very proud of you. I’m especially proud of you for figuring out a hairbrush. There for a while, I figured it was never going to happen. 😉 
❤💋💙💋💚💋💛💋💜💋
8/22/2015

No posts. 😔

8/22/2016

No posts… 😳
I bet you can’t guess which one threw me over the edge… 
I still don’t feel like this is really real. I feel like I’m in the Truman Show, and everyone is watching me cry for a man that’s not really gone. 

But, that must be a defense mechanism, because my HEART feels like he’s gone. It’s a feeling that I cannot describe to anyone, no matter how many words I use. 

I’m lucky to be a realistic woman, who understands the whole reality of this situation. 

Someone asked me, today, if going out on a date was weird. My immediate response shocked me! 

“No,” I responded, “It was almost natural.” 

I Baffled my own mind! 

It was. I’m a great people-person. I love talking to people. It’s always been one of my favorite things to do. You can ask my mom. 😜

So, The other night, on this date, he asks, “so what is it you’re looking for?” 

I think I finally know the answer! 

It’s not to fill a void, because I’m smarter than that. Trying to fill THAT particular void would have horrible, horrible consequences! Not me. Too smart for that. 

It’s for distraction! It seems like it was for a little distraction from my life. It was fun. I was definitely distracted, and I smiled. I laughed. I made jokes. And,  I had fun. 

Little distractions, here and there, are great. 

So, thanks, Mr. H, for giving me a distraction, I so badly needed. 👌

August is HARD. 

Football starts.

Mitch’s bday.

Our “official couple” anniversary. 

August is the feeliest of all feely months. 

I’m tired. 

I miss him. 

Fuck “tired”!

I am fucking exhausted! 

I am mad, but not in a dangerous way. 

This is not fair, at all, for any of us, especially Megan and myself. 

My chest hurts. It has hurt so much this month. Not in a medical way, but in the way that my breath catches, and I hold back tears to appease those around me. I don’t lie, but I don’t over-share anymore, either, because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Which, is fine, because I feel worse hurting feelings, than than I do holding it to myself, and 2-3 very close girlfriends. 

Life is still moving. It’s going up, and down, and infinite directions. 

It’s time to really grab hold, and see where it takes me. 

I love life, but I don’t love everything about it. 

Without the bad, you know not, how truly good the good is. 

Sleep well, friends and family. 

Social Media VS The 34 Year Old Widow. 

So, out of sheer curiosity, I wanted to check out dating apps, to see what I have to “look forward to” when I am ready to date. I downloaded three, set up 2, and had them for 3 days. 

No!

Stop it! 


I laughed, so hard, for a couple of hours, last night. (Sorry Mehgan, and Katy, but we were laughing far too hard at that one idiot…) Many Guys are stupid.

Entertaining, but stupid. 

I have deleted these apps. 

I hold nothing against anyone who uses them for hookups, and such, but, this is not, and probably never will be for me. 

I guess I’m just old school, like that. I can’t look at a picture of someone and a 200 character description, and be like, “yeah. That person sounds interesting!” Meh. 


I guess, for me, I need to see the way they walk. Do they walk with confidence, or are their shoulders slumped? 

How do they talk? Accent? Intelligence? Or slang-whores? 

Body language. Where are their eyes when they speak? I love reading people. You can’t read people through pictures, or text messages. 

Anyway. It’s a good thing I’m not looking, because I would be totally out of it, and discouraged. 

When it comes time, and it may be quite a ways down the road, most likely, I’m going to meet people the old fashioned way. 

In person.

 I remember when I ACTUALLY met Mitch. Always in the cafeteria, with his camera, and his scraggly long-ish hair. He was always making silly jokes, and pretending to take pictures of me. I never saw him with his shoulders slumped. He was always smiling, and laughing with his friends. That adds so very much to one’s attractiveness. It gives you an idea of how someone really is. You sit back, and observe. 

Right now. My focus is Megan, my family and friends, our health, and work. Strengthening myself in each of these areas is time consuming. 

Plus, my heart, soul, and mind aren’t ready for dating. I won’t be ready for a while. And that’s okay. 

Even though I joke about sex, on a VERY regular basis, that’s exactly what it is. Joking. This behavior is one of the many reasons I was always “one of the guys”. 


Nothing has changed. People may just notice it more, because I am widowed. I post things on social media, just like I have always done. (Thank you for pointing that out, Tracey.) The difference is this: Mitch isn’t responding, so maybe my sexual posts are taken wrong. Maybe it looks distasteful? It’s okay. It’s the same shit I’ve always done, it’s just different without Mitch’s goofy ass responses, that I was always excited for. 

Everyone always told Mitch and I that they loved our social media banter, and our presence. 

Now, my social media presence is one sided. We played off of each other so often, calling each other names, and being silly. At the risk of sounding cocky, we entertained many people. (Or, so we were told, often.) 

Here’s to taking each step, one after another. 

Here’s to making my current relationships (with friends and family) stronger, and healthier. 

Here’s to furthering my career!

Here’s to making this life I was dealt, a  good, great, and happy one. Or as good, and happy as I can make it. 

Every single day brings new thoughts, new feelings. New hopes, or dashed dreams. Each day differs in how I will react to anything. I can watch videos of Mitch’s ash being spread and giggle one day, because the ash blew funny, or bawl my eyes out the next day, because it hurts so fucking bad. I am an emotional roller coaster. But I’m here. I’m trying to be positive. Mitch always showed me the silver lining. Some days, I really struggle to find that silver, but I always find it. 

Do You Know What You Want in Life? Sex? Relationships? Money?

Or, do you only THINK you know?

Recently, I had myself convinced I wanted to be something I am not. I wanted to let myself go, with abandon, and not give 2 shits about it.

I wanted to be this person, who I have never been. Or so I convinced myself. Maybe I do want it? Maybe not. Most likely, not.

I am still figuring things out.

I found I like things I never thought I would like, and that’s what I am going to take from this life lesson. Because, honestly, everything is a lesson, in life. Right?

After being with someone for nearly sixteen and a half years, it’s hard to really know what you want, outside of that relationship, and all of the things that come along with it.

Many of our friends would joke about who wore the pants in our relationship. They always said it was me. It was, mostly. And there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s just how we were. I, more dominant than he. (and before anyone gets all weirded out, I mean in every aspect of our relationship. Not just sexual.)

I had convinced myself that I don’t want those pants, again. I don’t. I say “convinced myself”, but I have figured out, I don’t ever want to be that person who is bossy, and bitchy, and argues, and always gets her way. I was spoiled. Mitch spoiled the shit out of me. I am NOT complaining, at all. He was perfect. Perfect for the person I was. Perfect for the family that we created. Perfect.

Becoming a widow has opened my eyes to many things that I could do differently, when it comes to the next step. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am not ready for relationship status, and won’t be for a long time. That’s just not something I want, right now. I wanted sex, sure. But, I realized, after a very long, drunken, conversation, that I didn’t actually want what I was asking for, but for some reason, I thought I did. And that’s fine. I have no regrets.  But, enough about that.

In life, I want to be happy. That’s something that many people struggle with. I am doing everything in my power to keep myself and my daughter happy. Being widowed has shown me, no more “next year! We will do this NEXT YEAR!” No, we will do it NOW! Next year may never come for us. There’s a deep longing to be free. To do everything that I have ever wanted to do. That is one of the reasons I have started traveling. Short, weekend adventures, to run dirty, muddy, obstacle course races. The people I find myself surrounded by, during these races, are genuine people. They are happy. They are out there, playing in the mud, and swinging from the monkey bars, like overgrown children. Happy.

I want to be successful. I want to continue to be successful in my career, in my friendships, and in my LIFE. There’s nothing wrong with being an independent woman. I really hate that the way I had to realize how independent I am, was losing the love of my life, my soulmate, the father of my child.

I have had a rough few days, thinking about everything. I go through phases. Sometimes, I accept what is my life. Other times, I question it all. But, the last few days have been more like living in a dream. I am back to that. Like, I am going to wake up, soon, and everything that’s wrong in the world will be right again. I just need to let the dream go a little bit longer. Just a little while longer. I’ll wake up, soon.

But I am awake. I am completely aware of how awake I truly am.

I have started to spread Mitch’s ashes, as I travel. I placed him in the Grassy Knoll in Dallas, TX. I know it sounds insane, but Mitch was such a nerd, he would have LOVED it there. I placed him by a quote from Kennedy’s speech, that he never was able to give. It reads:

“We in this country, in this generation. Are-by destiny rather than choice-the watchmen on the walls of world freedom. We ask, therefore, that we may be worthy of our power and responsibility, that we may exercise our strength with wisdom and restraint, and that we may achieve in our time and for all time the ancient vision of “peace on earth, and good will toward men.” That must always be our goal, and the righteousness of our cause must always underlie our strength. For as was written long ago: “Except the lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.”
–John Fitzgerald Kennedy

It’s a beautiful place, with beautiful words. And just to make it so much more emotional, there was a man, playing the violin, in the gazebo, and we could hear his music, as we spread the ash. I cried, harder than I’ve cried in a long time, that afternoon. Spreading his ashes was like conformation that he is actually, physically, gone from this place. It hurt. It hurt so bad.

I think that’s when I started to feel like I was in a dream. Or, like I am just a character in a movie, following the script I was given. It’s a very strange sensation. I am not sure what to think of it. I am not sure where to go with it. I am not sure if anyone else feels this way, or if it’s just my widow-brain.

I was chatting with a friend. A very handsome friend, but no worries there, we are both very dedicated to our children, live 1,000 miles apart, and if anything went down between us, it would be at least 6 years from now. ;P But we were chatting. We were talking about how I have always wanted to live in the country, and how he has always wanted big city life. Funny how that worked out, huh? But, my point, we were talking about being single, and how it sucks, but it is what it is. I told him that I feel like people are scared of me. He asked why, I told him, because I am a widow. That’s terrifying to so many people. And that’s okay! I’ll say, you should not be scared of me, because of my being a widow. I’m not exactly sure what there is to be afraid of, but if anyone has any insight, please, share!

I know, that in the future, I will want a relationship. I will want something fun, exciting, sexually adventurous and strong. Key words: In. The. Future. Not now, not next month, and probably not next year. But, I already know that it  will be something I want. I can see it in my head.  Right now, though,  I want to continue to find myself. It’s important to me, to find out who this new woman is. Not knowing myself will be a problem, for any future endeavours.

So please, bear with me, here, as I continue to search within myself, and find out everything I ACTUALLY want. Sexually, in life, or in general. Only I can discover these things.

And keep in mind, this is much harder for me, than anyone will ever realize. I struggle with myself, daily. Like, do you really want to do that? Yes. No. Yes. No. It’s a cycle that I must work through. I’ve only talked to one man about this stuff. Poor guy. I’ve treated him like he’s my private journal, rather than a friend. Sorry, man. I’m working on it.

Now, about money. I know what I want in the money department. I want to be comfortable. I don’t need to be dirty rich, I can’t go back to paycheck-paycheck. I like where I am, with savings, with budgeting, with being able to vacation. I like it. I know that when I do start dating, my number one thing with be, that man has got to have his own self comfortable, financially. I don’t want to worry about someone else’s struggles. That sounds terrible, but I am being completely honest. I have my own money. I have my own savings. I am financially stable, and don’t plan on screwing that pooch. I think, even if in 5-6 years, I end up married to someone else, (IF!) I would not merge bank accounts. I am working too hard to fix all the shit that we screwed up, as youngins. I will never risk ruining my hard work.

In all honesty, I really don’t care about YOUR money, just as long as you have your OWN, and aren’t interested in MINE. Does that make sense? I’m not into sharing anymore. 😉 (dear goddess, I sound like a bitch. oh well. I know the truth.)