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.)

A Widow and Her Word Vomit

I will apologize in advance, for this post. I have so much to say, and haven’t really thought it through, yet.

I have found myself in tears, a lot the last couple of days. I think my strength is dwindling, with the migraine I’ve had. I found myself on Mitch’s facebook page, looking through old videos and photos. Man, I miss him so much! His goofy smile, his “everything will be fine” mentality, his warm hug, that made everything really feel like it was going to be fine.

As I scrolled through the pictures on his facebook, laughing at the memes he made or shared, the pictures of him and Megan, and the ones of us, I realized, I can tell you things that happened the days that most of those pics were taken. I can tell you that in this picture, we had argued, right before getting out of the car, at his Aunt Cindy’s house. I don’t remember what we argued about, but I remember we were having a tiff. All ended up fine, as it always did with us. I mean, who can stay mad at those dimples?

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I have been thinking a lot. My brain has been in overdrive, and I just lay here, and think, “This is really happening? This is really my life? Why? What the hell did I do? Why does whoever is in charge think this was necessary? This sucks! I am strong, but damnit, I don’t want to be!”

Things like this are a regular cycle through my head, recently.

A small part of me is still hoping this is a joke. Or maybe Mitch witnessed something, and is actually in the witness protection program. But, my realistic mind overrules those thoughts. I know what’s real. No matter how much I wish it wasn’t, this is fact. Mitch has passed on, and is without pain or worries. He is free. He is with his mom, grandmother, and many of the greats.

I am here. Meg is here. We are making the best of this situation. We are not just surviving, we are THRIVING. We are being the best that WE can be. We are working to better ourselves each day, with every step and every human encounter we make.

As I lay here, and mourn the loss of such an inspiration to my life, I know it is just my selfish nature, wanting to keep him just for us. He was MINE, and I only shared with Megan. When she was born, he became OURS.

I read, quite a bit, like I’ve said in previous blogs. I actually read a new one, within the last couple of days about “Widows should only date widowers.” My initial thought was “WHAT? WHY??” Then, “NO THANK YOU!” As I read along, and it makes quite a few points about why it should be that way, I still disagree. I think that the right person for any widow or widower, will be the person who is the strongest, and the one with the most understanding. It’ll be the person who doesn’t get jealous over a deceased spouse. It’ll be the one who says “Let’s go to *insert place here* and take some ash!”

It doesn’t have to be a widower. It doesn’t have to be someone who “understands”. It just needs to be someone STRONG. Someone who is willing to understand YOU as a person grieving, and know that there can be a bond, but a different kind of bond that you shared with your deceased love.

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I am going to talk about Mitch, probably until the day I die, because he was hilarious, and such a HUGE part of my life, not to mention, he fathered my amazing daughter. So, STRONG and secure in oneself, are a must, when it comes to that point in my life. And, honestly, who knows when I will ever be to the “dating” point? It could be months, it could be years, it could be never, or tomorrow?

It’s funny, when I think about dating. I had seriously sworn off all men, the night before Mitch came into McDonald’s and invited me to his 18th bday party. Sworn. Off. All. Men! I was done! I had it and didn’t even care to talk to them.

Then, in walked Mitch with his dazzling (ornery) smile, with those dimples to die for.

It was over. I was finished. We were going to get married. Plain and simple. I knew it, and I hadn’t even kissed him yet. But, I sure had plans to put my lips on him. And I did. In front of ALL of his friends. I don’t think one person, at his birthday party,  missed our first kiss.

And then came our very brief “dating”. We took Michael and Katy to their skate parties, because going with a super awesome big brother and his girlfriend is WAYYYYY cooler than going with the dreaded parents.

Our first movie date is questionable. We can’t remember if it was Coyote Ugly at the Drive in, or Bring It On at the theater. Neither of us could remember. We didn’t actually care.

I remember walking in front of some strip mall somewhere, and we used to write things on the palm of each other’s hands, with our fingertips, and try to guess what we were spelling.

That was how he told me he loved me, for the first time.

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I remember our first apartment, together. We were insane! We picked one of the most expensive complexes with one of the most expensive layouts we could find, and only lasted about 3 months there. We were 18, and had our 17 and 16-year-old friends move in with us. We all lost or quit our jobs. How does one pay rent and bills without a job? hmmmm….

We moved out.

After that, for Mitch and I, it was a downward spiral with bills and bill collectors, and we were sued once for a car accident, in which  our car insurance company dropped us instead of paying for the other car to be repaired! We were so broke that we nearly lost our shit when we were sued for $1,000. Really? We couldn’t manage that? I worked at mcd’s, he worked at Two Men and a Truck. I think collectively, we made about 36,000 a year. Then, I was put on bedrest, about 2 months before Megan was due. Pregnancy and I didn’t get along. Reason number 1 that we didn’t have more children.

Luckily, the older we got, the better we became with taking care of our bills in a reasonable manner. But, enough about that. Bills and money are boring, when it’s not about winning millions, or earning millions.

Many of you read this each time I post a new blog, some may not, and that’s okay. If this is your fist time reading, It is important to know that my husband was 34 when he died from heart failure. His heart just stopped ticking. Now, you’ll understand the next part of this story.

I have been very busy. I have been to Georgia, near St. Louis, and in Fort Worth and Dallas, TX. That’s just in the last month. I have taken a vow to better health. I have hired a trainer (JRenFitness) and have been trying my damnedest to keep up with the regime. Sometimes it’s hard to keep up, because of my job, but I try. I think I may have overdone it recently, so I am happy to be taking a mini-break. I am planning 3 or 4 more travel weekends soon, for racing. But first, I go to Florida with my family. I am excited to do workouts at the butt-crack of dawn on the beach. It will be our first family vacation, ever.  It’ll be my first time seeing the ocean. It’ll be my first time in Florida. There will be a lot of firsts that Meg and I will do together.

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One thing we will not shy away from? Talking about her dad. I am sure there will be very emotional times, while we are there. I am sure we will laugh. I am sure we will cry. I am sure we will have an amazing time.

We. Are. Still. Alive.

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When I was in the ER for this terrible migraine, they came in to ask me all the questions for billing, and they asked “Is your emergency contact still Mitch Wood at…” and I started crying, and said no. Of course the next question was “marital status, still married?” I said “no, widowed” and kept crying. I didn’t think that qeustion would effect me as it did, but it did. And I was alone in the room with the poor girl taking all of my information.

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Now, it’s weird for me to think of myself as “single” because that word is so much less than what I am. I am not with anyone, anymore, but I am a complicated mess of human emotion. I will never be “normal” again. And that’s okay. Who wants “normal” anyway? “Normal” is overrated.

 

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Our Football Rivalry! Mitch would be proud to know, Megan prefers the Seahawks.

This Widow’s Life

 

I’ve been MIA for a couple of weeks. It’s been a busy, non-sleeping couple of weeks. Texts in the middle of the night, drive to Georgia, and back, kind of craziness. Megan graduated from Elementary school, and will be a middle school kid! And, this weekend, I am driving almost to St. Louis to run, yet another race, then I’m driving straight home, right after.

My mind has been tossed from one place to the next, and I haven’t sat down to actually contemplate how close it is to what would have been Mitch and my 14 year wedding  anniversary. I took this weekend as a “no-call” weekend, so that we could go out, and do things, like dinner, a movie, and S-E-X! Whaaaaat? There will be no sex for me this weekend. =P (that’s fine, too)

How does dating work, anyway? As a widow, do I date someone I know, or do I go with a stranger who doesn’t know my situation? Is there even anyone who doesn’t know my situation? This may come as a shock, to most of you, but, I’ve tried to dip my toes in, and I am fucking clueless! One guy was a stranger, and learned very quickly of my situation, because of my very public facebook page, and blog, and the other is someone who has been around for a very long time. like 10+ years (as a friend of a friend).  I know I don’t want a relationship, because, dear sweet baby jesus, that would be a ticking time bomb, right now. At least that’s what I’ve read, in multiple places, plus, I am not ready for relationship status. I am not ready to say “Hey Megan, I have a boyfriend.” So, I don’t want one. But, I am young. Between the two I was talking to, they were extreme opposites, prude/freak, and it’s already over. I was told I am an overthinker. So, there’s that! Tell me something I DON’T know. 😉 I have too much going on, these days, to worry about dating, anyway.  I just have wants.  Wants that are low on a list of things I want for myself. I allowed the possibility to cloud my priorities, if I am being completely honest. For shame! Thank the gods for honesty.

And, for anyone who is wondering how I am “moving on” it’s not like that. I know, in my heart of hearts, that no man will EVER live up to Mitchell John, and I have accepted that. Now, if someone comes out, and surprises me, so be it, but, I don’t see that happening. I am not moving on. Mitch will forever be in my heart, and on my mind, no matter the situation, or place in my life.

Give me a minute while I screw my head back on, straighten my spine, and reset my priorities. Back to my family and friends. It was fun while it almost lasted? I have no idea.

P.S.  #NoJudgingZone Also, I am not spell checking, or grammar checking this blog. I need to go to work!