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

7 Months After…

On January 25th, 2017, the best thing that ever walked into my life, fell asleep, and never woke up. That was 7 months and 2 days ago. 

Many people tell me:

 “You are so strong!” 

“You’re an inspiration!”

 “You’re doing so well!” 

“I don’t know how you go on. I mean, I don’t think I could do it!”

My strength is something I absorb through all of my friends, family, and support system. I have the best group of people, out there, to encourage me in the things I want and need. 

I hope to inspire many, who are grieving. It’s NEVER easy! There is NEVER a day that goes by, where I don’t think of Mitch. He and Meg were my EVERYTHING. This kind of loss isn’t something anyone “gets over” or “moves on” from. This kind of loss is something you LEARN AND GROW with. 

I do well, again, because of my amazing support system. And I love every single one of you! 😘

You really don’t know how you can go on, until you are here, and HAVE to keep moving. It’s not something I wish anyone to even TRY imagining. It’s terrifying, and guy-wrenching, to say the least! But, moving forward is a MUST! Nothing great ever happens, living in the past. We must all live, in the now. One step at a time, even baby steps count. Leaps and bounds may set you back a bit, but you will learn. And, learning, my dear, is good. 
Inside my daily mind:

Every day, I wake up, I think “damn, it’s raining, or damn it’s sunny!” Reach across my empty bed, to a place that should hold my husband. I don’t cry, when I do this, anymore. Well, I don’t cry EVERY time. Some days, the sense of loss is heavier than others. And that is just fine! 

I get up, make my coffee, and try to relax into my day, drinking my cup of dark roast. I think about how Mitch would always complain that I kept buying dark roast, because he was a blonde roast kind of guy. I bought the kind I liked, and when he shopped, he ALSO bought the kind I liked. I did start buying both, to be fair. 

I jump in the shower (most days) and get ready to start my day fresh. While I am enjoying a hot, cleansing shower, I think about how Mitch used to get giant cups, or even pitchers, sometimes, and fill them up with ice and cold water, and dump it on me, from over the shower curtain. I would get so mad, and laugh, every single time! It never failed. 

I dry off, and start my moisturizing routine, and think about how Mitch would ALWAYS walk into the bedroom, as I started putting lotion on. He would walk in and be like “oh! You’re not dressed yet? *wink*! He would then either be very obvious that he was watching me, or try to pretend he was doing other things, and “bump into me” as he passed me. 

I get dressed, and get my lunch packed and think how proud he would be that I USUALLY take my lunch to work. Saves me so much money! 

As I leave for work, I always feel like I am forgetting something. Every time. This sensation of forgetting something, is because I would kiss Mitch, every morning, while he laid sleeping in bed. We never left without saying goodbye. It was our thing. So now, I don’t have that sleeping husband to kiss goodbye. 

I’ll be at work, and something funny, or great, or terrible will happen, and I remember how I would always call, or text Mitch throughout the day, and he would be a smart ass, and make me laugh. 

When I get off of work, I think about how I would call Mitch, and ask him what he was cooking for dinner. Ever single day, I would call him and ask. Then I would say “oh good! I’m starving!” Or “Okay, what do you want me to pick up?” And I remember that Tuesday night, January 24th, when he told me he was craving the turkeylicious chili from Eat fit go. His last dinner. His choice. 

When I get home, and chat with Meg about her day, I think about how she has been here for however long she is there (depends on my call schedule) alone. I think about how this wouldn’t be a thing if Mitch were here. I think about how, before, she would tell me “Ugh! Daddy already ASKED me these questions!” 💙

When Megan tucks me into bed at night, she kisses me goodnight, then goes to her bedroom. This was the routine before her daddy died. She would tuck me in, and kiss me goodnight, then she would go to bed, and daddy would tuck HER in, kiss her goodnight. After tucking her in, he would come into our room, kiss me goodnight, and attempt frisky business, every night. Then, we would either get frisky, or I’d go to sleep and he would go watch sports or the news or the history channel. He’d come to bed at 11 or so, and go to sleep, and our routine would start all over again, when we woke up. 

These are, obviously, not the only things that affect me, but these are the regular routine things that get me, more often. 

Friday, before we left for Tulsa, Meg was looking for clothes to pack. As she was digging through her closet, she found this:


Those are her tiny handprints. This was a Father’s Day gift from her, quite a few years ago. 

She started bawling. 

It’s little reminders like these, that jump out, when they’re least expected, and tear us apart. 

Honestly, though, I would RATHER have these little reminders that tear us to shreds, than no reminders at all. I think no reminders would be so much harder to handle. 

Megan:

Megan, as a new middle-schooler, is now a part of a “grief group”. There are 3 or 4 other kids who have suffered significant loss, as well, and the social worker is working in getting them together, on a regular basis, to connect on a deeper level. I am SO happy about this! I am so glad she has an outlet, now, since she didn’t even want to try therapy. (She got that from her dad, no joke! He didn’t believe in therapy or psychologists!)

Megan and I:

So, as we grieve, we take each step, one at a time. We remember. We talk about him. We still love him. We will NEVER “get over it!”, and we are okay with that. We will never “move on!”, and we are okay with that, too. 

We are so unlucky in the way of losing Mitch, and so very lucky, in the way of our support system. 

We appreciate all of you! ❤️

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. 

Memories


Memories can be good and they can be bad. 


I’ve, recently, been reliving that Wednesday, in my head for a few days now. 

Every time I lay down, and close my eyes for the night, memories bombard me. 

If you were a hot dog, would you eat yourself? I know I would! Smother myself in mustard and relish! I’d be DELICIOUS!”

Me calling, over and over, hoping for an answer, so I could yell at him for whatever he was doing, while not answering his phone. 

Me, driving like a bat-outta-hell to get to the fedex hub, HOPING to catch my beautiful, amazing, perfect husband cheating on me. 

Seeing the cop cars. 

Being pulled into an office.

The officer telling me that my husband was found dead. Then, proceeding to question me, about his medications, and any illnesses, etc. 


Making Brady drive to Mitch’s  biological father’s house, so I could tell them, in person. 

Making Brady drive just down the street, so I could tell Mitch’s younger brother. 

Driving back to Brady’s house, all while I’m trying to figure out how I am going to go on. How was I going to pay my bills? How was I going to be a single mother to a TEENAGER?! How?! Not even a why! I don’t think I’ve every truly wondered why, because I know, there will never be an answer that satisfies me. I am selfish. I want him with me, but in some spirit world, or heaven, or hell. HERE! I want him HERE! 


Sitting on my brother’s couch, discussing how we were going to tell Megan. That was my biggest fear. Far more terrifying than figuring out how to pay our bills, and keep a roof over our heads. 

My brain telling me “If you do this wrong, it will scar her, for the rest of her life!” 

Sitting on my brother’s couch, for the entire day, staring out the window, waiting for a “got ya!” 

The “GOT YA!” that never came. 

The “got ya” that haunts my dreams. 

I cried, silently, most of the time. The mornings after he passed, I cried aloud, in my brother’s kitchen. I would find myself crouched on the floor, hands wrapped around a coffee cup, trying to just BE. Not be normal, not be happy, but to just BE. 

I have read many responses to the question “Once you’re a widow, are you always a widow?”

Not every Widow agrees on this one. 

I say yes. No matter how you deal with widowhood, no matter how you get through each day, you become a stronger, wiser version of yourself. That’s something that stays with you forever. So, yes. No matter I I get married in 10 years, or become an old cat lady, I will forever be a widow. At least that’s how I feel about myself. I don’t take anything for granted, anymore. I cherish every minute I spend with family, friends, OCR family, and work family. It’s important to me, that they know they are appreciated. Everyone for their own things. 

Some push me to be physically stronger, and show me how to accomplish my goals. Some push me to be mentally stronger, more confident, and to continue to believe in myself. Some reassure me, that it’s okay to be myself! If someone doesn’t like me for being myself, they aren’t worth my efforts. 

Maybe I have been an emotional wreck, this August, because we are in Leo time, and it’s tearing this Libra to shreds? Maybe it’s because Mitch’s bday, followed by the anniversary of our “couple” status, are both this month. Maybe it’s just normal to have awful months, mentally, when this happens? I don’t know. I’ll just flow with it. 

#OneFootInFromtOfTheOther

Another Dream of Mitch! 


I dreamed of Mitch, Thursday night! I didn’t want to wake up. It was a very “normal” dream. 

He was here, at my apartment, like he had never been gone. He was laying in my favorite spot on the couch, and we were discussing whether or not, he should go get a job, since we were doing so well, without a second income. 

I told him no. I told him to stay home, take care of home stuff, and we would be okay. 

He told me I should probably change my tax status, back to married, instead of widowed, because he didn’t want us to get in trouble on outer taxes, ever again. 

It wasn’t a sexy dream. It was as if he really was here, discussing the crap that we discussed on a regular basis, before. Money, paying bills, Megan and school. Like he had never left. 

In my dream, though, I KNEW he had been gone all this time, yet, there he was, looking mighty alive.

 However, I never saw his face. 

What in the world could that mean?! I haven’t forgotten what he looks like. I haven’t forgotten his voice or anything. His voice is crystal clear in my dream. Except that one, where I couldn’t hear him at all. 

I miss him so much, and all I want is one of his big bear hugs, where he smothers me in his chest. I want to breathe in his scent, one more time. Breathe him deep into my soul. Every now and then, I’ll get a quick whiff of him, but as quickly as it comes, it’s gone. 

I RARELY dream about him, and when I do, it’s strange. Once, just his voice, like he was trying to find me, and nothing else. Once, just him, but I couldn’t hear him, even though he was talking to me, right in front of my face. And this latest dream, where I could see his waist, legs and feet. The details in his feet, like his veins, and bones, the way they looked when he sat with his feet propped on the arm of the couch, one foot crossed over the other. It’s all in there, in my brain. I remember every detail of him. 

He is my soulmate. There’s no question about that. We were put together so many times before we realized we were meant for each other. 

At age 17, I knew, the first time I kissed him, that he was my forever guy. Forever wasn’t as long as it was supposed to be. 

When I moved into his house 2 weeks after we started dating, everyone said we were nuts! Horrible idea! (In their defense, in a normal teenage situation, it would have been a horrible idea. I don’t recommend it to everyone. We KNEW!) When we got engaged a year and a half after we started dating, (2/2002), everyone said we were being ridiculous! No one realized how perfectly we were made for each other. That’s okay, though! We knew! When we got married, at age 20, not even old enough to LEGALLY drink our champagne, we were congratulated, yes, but also told we were crazy! “You’re too young! It’ll never last! Bad idea!” Again, in most cases, statistically, these are all true statements. In our case, they weren’t true. We. Fucking. KNEW! 

I was slightly annoyed, when we were younger, about people continually telling us we were doing things wrong. But, the older we got, the closer we grew together, and the more everyone else saw it. They KNEW! They KNOW now! 

I miss him. I miss my partner, my best friend, my biggest cheerleader, my lover, my husband. 

It hurts, but, I’m healing. I know that’s what this is. I can’t, and won’t be “broken” forever. Scarred? Sure, absolutely! 

Beautifully, and uniquely scarred. So unlike anyone else. 

I really hope there is an afterlife. I hope Mitch was welcomed by his momma, and family and friends that passed before him, and that he welcomed his grandma Sandy, with that big, bear hug, that I miss so much. 

May they be partying it up, in the happiest of afterlives. 

6 Months, 5 Days

On the Morning of the 6 month marker, of Mitchell’s death, I woke up, tears fell for an hour, as I scrolled through facebook’s “on this day”, showered and got ready for work. 

I made a post on Facebook, about how I was feeling, and a lot of what I miss about Mitch. 

I didn’t write a blog, or really talk to very many people. I didn’t tell Megan what the day was, until we were having dinner. 

I mostly kept to myself, and tried not to project my sadness onto anyone else. 

Everyone says it gets easier, as time passes by. 

Everyone grieves differently. 

It’s not easier. Each time I wake up, and Mitch isn’t here, it hurts just a little bit more. Each time some man, that I don’t know, hits on me, like I’m some “single chick” it kind of makes me angry. 

I have “ignored” so many people on messenger, “restricted” so many people on Facebook as well. 

On the 6 month-marker, a man tried to tell me he “wanted to know me”. I also posted about it on Facebook. He claimed he wanted to know me, yet, he didn’t take a second to scroll through my Facebook profile, and see that I just made a big, long, emotional post about how much I miss my deceased husband, and realize how inappropriate his messages were. I see through the typed words. 

I don’t feel bad about not wanted to know people. I don’t feel bad about blocking old acquaintances, or ignoring morons on Facebook. 

One thing I realized recently, is that I feel alone, a lot more than I realized. 

I asked a ton of people to go out with me, Friday night, and so many people just said no, or couldn’t go (kids, other plans, etc). It’s okay. I understand if you don’t want to or can’t go out with me. But here’s where the loneliness sets in. If Mitch was here, he would have gone with me, no questions. (it would have been his idea to go, even) I would not have gone to a concert alone, and we would have had an amazing time. Sure, I had fun. I was surrounded by people, and made “friends”. No. I was surrounded by people, and made more acquaintances. Sure it was fun, but my heart was still broken, and empty. As I danced and listened to the songs Mitch so often played for me, my heart was tearing open, shredding apart, again. 

It’s things like going out alone, or figuring out who will take Megan home from a ball game, if I get called into work, that make me feel alone. 

It’s little things that set me off into a crying mess. I feel like I cry MORE now, than I did in the beginning. Like it’s more REAL now, than it was. Maybe it’s because school is getting ready to start, or something? I don’t know. I don’t care why. It just IS. This is the way it is, now. 

I know, I have Megan, and that’s a MARVELOUS thing. I’m not alone when I’m with her, but I cannot take her everywhere with me. 

Maybe now, I’ve hit the point that everyone has warned me about. The point where everyone believes I am fine, and fall away.

 The scariest part about being a widow, is feeling alone. 

I miss him, so so so much. I miss his presence. I am so angry and sad that he is gone. This is a nightmare. He was such a beautiful soul. We needed him, more, here.

 The world needs more Mitches. 

Feelings. Emotions. Caring Too Much. Things I Won’t Apologize For, and Neither Should  You! 

Just recently, I was informed that I am “too emotional.” 
Interesting. 

That’s the first time I have EVER heard that. 

Like, EVER?!

I was told I was “running 100% on emotions”. 

Wtf?! Really?! 

I don’t get it, and I, honestly, don’t care, but it totally shocked me! 

SO, it made me think. What are things I will never apologize for? 

Caring. 

Being me.

Being honest. 

I lost a friend, and my feelings were hurt, but not “like that.” It hurt me to know that we aren’t actually friends. 

I will NEVER apologize for being upset about losing a friend. Never! I will never apologize if MY FEELINGS are hurt. That’s just not how it works. 

I was a bit upset when I realized a friendship wasn’t ACTUALLY a friendship, and decided to move on. I needed to stop hanging onto something that wasn’t real. 

Let. Go.

So here is something, to live by. 

Let negativity go. 

Let go of the things that aren’t real, in your life. 

Do not get involved with a one sided friendship, relationship, marriage, etc. It’s stupid to fight for someone  that doesn’t want to fight for you. 

Most of you know, I am about as real as it gets. I don’t play games, I don’t twist words, or judge. 

That said, if you are acting like a douche, I’m going to call you on it.  Don’t get all butt-hurt about it. Instead, look back on your actions and words. Reflect. 

Period. 

I don’t have time for fake friends. I only have time for real ones. I only have time for the people willing to make time for me. If my friend numbers dwindle, then it’s of no fault of my own. 

I work very hard to make time for family (and LORD knows, I have a TON of family!), and friends.  


I have my limits, though. 

It’s been nearly 6 months, since Mitch has passed away, and I’ve finally opened my eyes, and realize, just because I am a widow, doesn’t mean people are going to be genuine, with me. It doesn’t make people automatically nice to me. Just because I am raw, and real, doesn’t mean people will be the same with me. 

I am an honest, hard working, STRONG, intelligent, confident, and independent woman. 

I do NOT allow my emotions to run me. I don’t think I have ever allowed that, as far back as my teen years. Maybe once in a while around THAT time of the month, but no, not even close to an accurate assessment of me.  Silly goose. 

I am smarter than my hormones, 99.9% of the time. 

Also, if I am done trying, with someone, it doesn’t mean I hate them, or dislike them. It means I have given up. I still care, but, I can’t keep up the charades of a pretend friendship. It’s annoying as fuck. And, frankly, more time consuming, than I’m willing to work with. 

Again. I will never apologize for caring.

 I will never apologize for being honest. 

I will never apologize for being me. 

Detached from All of the People and Things.


It’s been a weird week. Actually, it’s been a weird couple of weeks. There have been a lot of tears and my chest has felt so empty. I think the tears come from the emptiness I’m feeling. There have been parts of days where I feel hollow. 
Remember when the numbness ebbed? This is like that. I haven’t felt he emptiness of Mitch’s absence. I have felt his absence, absolutely. But the feeling inside is something different. If I felt it, at the beginning, I probably wouldn’t be where I am right now. Just like the heartache that came weeks after, slowly working it’s way into existence, at a pace my mind could handle, the true feeling of something missing, is here. It’s prominent this week. It hurts like hell. 

But I will survive this. I will learn something from this. I will continue to take one step at a time. 

Remember how I decided to put my phone into do not disturb mode? 

I have continued to leave my phone on do not disturb, so I’m not always on it, or checking every noise. 

I am not posting a million things a day,  on social media.  

I’m doing more. I’m back in the gym, again. I’m hanging out with friends. I am attempting to learn more about friends, family, and even my coworkers. 

I hadn’t realized how detached I had become. I haven’t been listening. I haven’t asked questions. I haven’t been involved. 

I used to be the BEST listener! I could listen to my friends talk, all damn day, every day. 

Now, and for a while, I’ve been “checking out”, and not even realizing it. I could take the easy way out, and blame social media. I could blame it on losing Mitch so suddenly. But, I don’t believe that’s true. I think losing Mitch has made it more frequent. I’ve also noticed that the less time I spend on social media, the better I am at being involved with the people who are right in front of me. 

I have days where I don’t want to talk to anyone, at all. I have days where I have so much to say, much of which is completely inappropriate, and not everyone needs to hear. I have days where hearing certain people talk, makes me cringe. 

I’m not sure where it stems from, or why I have these days. I love my friends and family. This is why you’ll never know that your voice is driving me insane. It’s most likely not your fault.  Unless you’re a frequent liar. That drives me crazy… 

Today, my daughter played a softball game for just over 2 hours. Her team won the championship! I was present, actually paying attention to the whole game. I didn’t check Facebook, or instagram, or anything else. I sat, I chatted with family and other softball parents  that came, and I watched. 

It’s pretty sad how much effort I feel like it takes to get out of the social media stronghold. 

Yes, sure, I have some REAL friends on social media, and they like all my status updates and photos I upload. Really, though, real friends are the ones that make time for you. They’re the ones who are present. They don’t try to avoid you, when you may be at your worst, because they KNOW who you are, when you’re at your best, and believe you’re worth it. 

It’s the ones who aren’t real friends, who see you at your worst and hightail it. And, honestly, that’s something to be thankful for. Just say goodbye, remove them from your life, and take another step. 

One step… Then, another. 

Every single encounter we make, is meant to be. Be it terrible or wonderful, it was supposed to happen. Period. 

Last night, I had a few drinks with my cousin, and one of my very good friends, that I see on occasion. We ended up at my cousins, going through her interesting witchy things. And no. No spell casting or anything The-Craft-like. Just Tarot cards and a book with a description of people based on their month and day of birth. 

Mine was pretty legit. Not going to lie. 

There were a couple of dates that jumped out at me. One of the “beneficial” dates was actually Mitch’s birthday. 8/18. 

One of the “fatal attractions” or “challenging” dates was 1/25. Pretty crazy, huh? 

When we did the Tarot cards, (no making fun! Or judging!), I could LITERALLY (not figuratively) feel a slight tug, in the palm of my hand, as I passed over certain cards. No big deal, I read what the cards meant, and interpreted accordingly. 




When I watched as my friend closed her eyes, and waved her hand slowly over the cards, I saw 2 cards rise off of the table, ever so slightly,  and they wound up being the cards that she chose. 

I couldn’t believe that happened! 

Her cards were so much her, it was interesting. 

I’ll leave you with the following pictures, of Mitch’s description, based on birthdate. What do YOU think? 



Below, you’ll see my birthdate under “benificial”.  10/10 Also, you’ll notice our anniversary and his mother’s birthday under “soul mates” 5/24. 

***I apologize now, because I am too tired to go through and edit anything. I hope it’s not too messed up. 😜***

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. 

5 Months Without Mitch.

While Mitch was alive, I was always worried that I would die before him. I was afraid that I would die, and leave him a single father, caring for our daughter. I was afraid he was cursed, you know. I didn’t want to die and leave him a widower. That wouldn’t be fair. He lost his mom, when he was very young. He grew up, pretty rough. 

That day, when I drove out to FedEx, exactly 5 months ago, and the officer dragged me into an office, and told me he was found, unresponsive, I was broken. I was broken, but, I was also relieved that I didn’t die, and leave HIM broken. 

I can’t say that he would be doing better or worse, right now, in this position. I CAN say, that I am so glad he doesn’t have to be the one going through this. That would not have been fair for him, at all. And, yes, I know that life isn’t fair. 

Someone posted this photo, on Facebook, and they said “thoughts?” 

I responded with this: 

“I’ve been widowed for almost 5 months. I am breathing, standing, walking, climbing, running, sprinting, hurdling, etc. it sucks so so so bad! But here’s my reasoning: My husband was the kind of man who made the BEST of EVERY situation. It didn’t matter what the situation was, he looked at the silver lining. He found the good that came from every bad thing. He taught me to do the same. With my husband’s death, at the young age of 34, of natural causes (heart failure), many many family and friends flocked to their doctor, to have their hearts checked. Some found they were healthy as could be, others found they needed further checking, because their white blood count was off, or their whatever was bad. It’s been a hell of a ride this last 4.95 months, and I am heart-broken, but I have a 12 year old daughter who NEEDS me! My husband has passed on, so he no longer NEEDS me. He would NOT have wanted me to screw up my and our daughter’s lives, because I am sad, or heartbroken, or have depressed days. He would have said “look, Tabbie, my death saved my dad’s life!” Because it DID! So, I will sprint, and breathe, and walk, dance and stand. Some days I may wobble, or fall, but I will keep putting one foot in front of the other. I hate this, but I will SURVIVE! We all will.”
I feel like people believe I make widowhood look easy. I don’t try to. This isn’t easy, at all.  I try to live each day. I try to make our lives happy, even when we are sad. I go through times where I feel guilty for thinking other men are attractive, or if I have sexual thoughts about them. I also know that having those thoughts and feelings are totally normal. I am only 34! I am a HEALTHY 34. I am not acting on each thought. That’s where we would have a problem.  But, thinking about things is not a crime. It’s just something that happens. 

Again, not easy. 

One income. I’ve had people say, “Well, there’s one less person, so one less income shouldn’t be too bad.” Well, when you are used to living with double the money you have, it is a TOTAL adjustment! 

I know, that the things people say, are meant to be comforting, and coming from some people, it is comforting. When it comes from someone I am not close to, it doesn’t come out like that. It isn’t taken like that. For some reason, it really is irritating. 

I have always known that I adapt to change pretty well. I typicallyvadapt to change better than most people I know. However, I didn’t realize how well adapted I am, until it was brought to my attention, that I am USED to sleeping alone, already. I have no desire to have someone sleeping next to me. I thought I was going to need friends to sleepover, in the beginning, and I never did. Meg and I slept on an air mattress together for nearly 3 weeks, and both of us got so uncomfortable, she started sleeping on the couch, until we moved into our apartment. I have reverted back to being a bed-hog. I am regretting my decision, to buy a queen bed, rather than a king. I had a king bed, when I was a teenager. I think when Meg gets a “new bed” it’ll be my bed, and I’m getting a king. All that room! 

Now, unrealistically speaking, I would give everything I own away, if it meant I could share a floor with Mitch. But, that’s unrealistic. I can’t BRING HIM BACK! No matter how much I want it, it doesn’t work like that. No matter how hard I cry, or how much I miss him, it just doesn’t work that way. 

Maybe, when my time comes, I’ll see him again. He was a good person. I try to be a good person. Maybe that means our afterlives will be good, if there really is an afterlife. 

I could totally see Mitch and I haunting people, together. Hilariously haunting family and close friends. 

Honestly, I still don’t get signs from Mitch. I haven’t dreamed about him, except the only 2 dreams I had. Maybe he leaves me alone, because he is afraid I’ll lose my shit? Maybe he leaves me alone because I am “doing just fine”? Maybe he thinks I need to continue to “be the inspiration” that I have become? Maybe, he doesn’t visit me, because he is afraid I will be committed to a psych ward, and leave Meg without a parent? Maybe he doesn’t visit, because I told him he wasn’t allowed to haunt me? Jokingly, of course, because when one dies, they can do whatever they want. 😉 And maybe, JUST maybe, he doesn’t visit, because he can’t. Maybe that’s not a true option, after death. Whatever the case, he doesn’t visit me or leave me signs, like I hear everyone else talk about. I have little tidbits of “oh my, Mitch would have said that!” But, nothing too ghostly. 

So, here I sit, 5 months without my Mitchell. I am stronger than I have ever been, in all of my life. I am happy in all areas of life except the part where I am a widow. I still truly believe that EVERYTHING happens for a reason, even if we haven’t figured out that reason, yet. 

Maybe it’s something so simple as my words, helping someone get through THEIR grieving process, just a little bit easier? Who knows if I’ll EVER know the reasoning behind Mitch’s death, outside of the scientific, biological part. 

Keep Living. 

One. Foot. In. Front. Of. The. Other. 

Skip. Hop. Run. Jump. Walk. 

Keep going.