Dear Mitch,

 

I know you are probably looking down at me wondering “what he hell are you DOING?” OR “Don’t! Not him! He’s a moron!”

Don’t worry. I’m not.

Not with him, or with him.

It’s okay. You remember, I like guy friends. I always had more male friends than female friends, growing up.

I think I have an equal amount of guy/girl friends, now.

But I do like dating. I like meeting all the new people, which is weird, but not too weird, since you know me.

I miss you, tremendously. I have this empty spot in my bed, that only you could fill. I prefer not sleeping next to someone, even if we have sex. I send them home, or to the couch. No, I’m not whoring it up. I just have sex every now and then with one guy.

You’re probably laughing at me, or wondering what the fuck is happening in my head because he’s so much younger. But, you also know, I have always said “If he’s old enough to buy me a drink… Legally… then he’s old enough for me!” Of course, back then, I was referring to the celebrities on TV (cough cough Zac Efron cough cough). haha!

I miss talking about the hot guys on TV and having your unnecessary, jealous stare. It was so funny. You would get so offended about the celebrities I would never meet. I would do it on purpose, just to get a rise out of you. Why? Because I LOVED that you were jealous. Your slight jealousy was comforting. I knew I’d never lose you. At least not to another woman.

I appreciate you. I appreciate all of the patience you held when I was freaking out, right after we got married. When I got “cold feet” post wedding vows. When “forever” sounded like a life sentence. You were there, but not all over me. You allowed me the space I needed, to clear my mind and really figure out who I was, and what I wanted.

Can you even believe that I thought I was a lesbian? I still laugh at that! I was REALLY freaking out about being married. Then, I reminded myself, it was you. YOU. The best of the best. No one other human on this planet could handle me. Not like you did. You spoiled me, in so many ways. Not materialistically, either.

You spoiled me with love. You showed me that good men DO exist, and let me tell you, I can spot them. You spoiled me by doing for me. After a long day at work, you made me mixed, fruity drinks, and ran me a bath with epsom salt. Not because you were trying to get in my pants, but because you loved me. You wanted me to be happy and felt that I deserved to relax.

Oh, remember when we gave each-other massages? That was so long ago. Like in our early 20s! haha! it got to a point where you would give me a massage first, then I would fall asleep and never give one back. Big mistake on my part, because you finally quit giving me massages, and I developed carpal tunnel.

Remember the Christmas 2003, when we decided it would be funny to tell everyone that we were having a baby? hahahahaha!! Oh man! That was so hilarious. Then, in January, we were pregnant. Easy as that. We found out March 3rd, but, still. It happened so fast.

I remember the conversation we had. We were on I35 in 75th street exit. It was Christmas, 2003. We decided we were strong enough, together, to handle ANYTHING. We decided to stop PREVENTING pregnancy.

Oh man. It happened so fast. We had the most perfect little baby. Oh,  I bet you’re freaking out, when you see her, now. I do have to say, at least she’s covered! She has a mouth like her mother, and the wit of her father. She will go far in life.

I am so glad you were able to stick around long enough for her to know, and remember how amazing you were. I am so glad that I won the bet that got me a baby before I turned 22 (actually 18 days after my 22nd birthday, but who’s counting?) If you won that bet, I would have been a widowed mom to a 4 year old! It goes to show that my belief in “everything happens for a reason” is real. I needed to have a preteen. I needed a well rounded kiddo. I needed a kid who understands far beyond her years. And that’s what we had. We had the perfect-for-us child. Weren’t we lucky? Aren’t I lucky, in that way?

Everyone always says, “I’m so sorry for you!”

I bite my tongue, because I want to ask why. “Why are you sorry that I was able to spend all that time with the most amazing man on earth?” I got 16.5 years with you! That was half your lifetime!

There are so many women who don’t have the luxury I have, of saying, “I found my perfect match. My perfect love. Someone who loved me unconditionally.” I have that! I had that. I was able to feel that. I was able to live that. I was so fucking lucky!

It’s so weird to say that, though. People are always so good at twisting words to make things sound bad.

I was so fucking lucky in the way that I met you, had you, loved and was loved by you.

I was unlucky that you died.

But the beauty is that I was able to know you. I was able to have and to hold you.

You taught me how a man should treat a woman. Hell, you taught Meg how a woman deserved to be treated.

Amazing.

You will forever live in my mind and heart, and the hearts of so many who knew you, as amazing.

Ah

Maze

Ing!

My inspiration to be a better human.

My everything.

I miss you.

I am so glad that I had the opportunity to be graced with your presence.

I am so happy that I had the ability to be loved and spoiled by you.

Thank you.

Thank you for teaching me.

When you died, I thought I was done. I would never get to a point in my life where I could allow feelings for anyone again. It isn’t worth it, I would think to myself. I was mentally crippled by the loss of your presence in my life.

My mind said “WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING??? How do I DO this?” I also had thoughts along the lines of “no one will want me.” But I didn’t care. I bought baggy clothes and hid my body so no-one would even WANT to look.

Those thoughts are pointless.

More importantly, I want you to know, that I hope you are proud of who I am, who I have become. I hope you are proud of my strength and ability to find happiness in such an awful experience.

There are days when I wake up in the morning, and really try to wrap my mind around the fact that you’re no longer here.

Every time I have that thought, my entire body reacts. It’s like I KNOW it is true, but my mind and my soul still refuse to believe.

That’s the impact you’ve left in my life.

With that, I must go to bed.

I will love you always.

I will forever cherish the memories we shared.

You will forever be in my mind and heart.

Love you always,

Ms. Tabbie Wood

 

 

 

 

Why I am Choosing to Leave Social Media. And Random Thoughts…

IMG_6127

 

I made a post on my facebook wall. I told all of my friends, old and new, all of my family, and Mitch’s family.

I’m deleting facebook, snapchat, instagram, and so on. I won’t delete this blog, though.

Here is why:

That Wednesday morning, of January 25th, after my mandatory meeting, at work, and before going to the elementary school to send home flyers inviting moms to come coach Girls On the Run with me, I sat at my desktop (really a tower hooked up to our big screen tv in the man-cave) with the mouse hovering over “delete account”.

I was in that state for a good 5-10 minutes.

During those 5-10 minutes, I thought of all the things I have said, or have discussed with people.

When I was small, like 8-9 years old, I told my dad, “computers are the devil, and are going to ruin families!” Out of the mouths of babes, am I right?

Mitch and I discussed our social media obsessions, and how we were addicts, through and through. I was worse than him, but we were both bad.  We used to get pissed at each-other because he would be trying to talk to me, but my phone was in my face, or I would say something to him, and he would “acknowledge” it, but not remember what I had said. Any time Meg wanted to show me something, I would be like “hold on I’m doing something!” Know what I was doing? Reading a meme, or someone’s post on Facebook, or something that was definitely less important than what my DAUGHTER was trying to show me. And, we wonder why the kids of that generation seem to seek attention, regardless of what kind of attention it is. So many think that the responses you get on social media is more important, because look at how most of us react when our kids talk to us. I see it happen every day. I even catch myself doing it. We act annoyed that our kids want to talk to us, or show us something, that they’ve shown us at least 450 times, already. We, as parents, should make it a point to make everything our kids show or tell us, seem important. It may be the 900th time they’ve shown you, but when they’re teenagers, and NEED to tell you something that IS important, they won’t, because they will believe they are a bother, and that’s the last thing you want to happen. So many reasons exist that you should WANT your kid to talk openly with you.

When it comes to being with your friends, in person, it’s annoying when social media interrupts.

When I am sitting in a living room, restaurant, or out with friends in general, and they all have their faces stuck in their phones, I feel like I am unimportant. I was SOOOOOO guilty of “hold on!” so I could finish a status update, or respond to a silly comment on my post.

I want to reconnect with PEOPLE. Real people. I don’t want to live my life watching photos of friends who live down the street. I want to make time, and visit, in real life, and hug them. Human interaction is healing, and my experience shows me that actual interaction, rather than virtual interaction can ward off depression. It is great for our souls, to surround ourselves with people who love us, and who we love, and enjoy being around.

I don’t want to post whatever I post, and feel expectant of discussion. I would rather call my best friend, and talk to her on the phone.

I really feel like social media has made people socially awkward. Really though.

I went on a date with a guy, last week. He was so worried about his “shitty” car, that he didn’t want me to meet him outside. I don’t care about your car. When we met, inside the restaurant, he couldn’t look me in the face. He dodged my eye contact, like it was flames. Once he started acting all weird like that, I started talking about how I’m not looking for a boyfriend, and how my expectations in a man are really high, because my husband was amazing, and it will be hard for a guy to meet those standards.

I mean, really? When I told my friends about how he wouldn’t look at me when we were talking, and how it made me feel odd. Really odd. I deleted the dating apps first.

Bye, Tinder!

Bye, Bumble!

There’s nothing like meeting someone, in a good, face to face manner. I always felt like those apps were weird. You swipe though still photos of people, and you’re supposed to determine if you like them or not, based on photos and a tiny bio? I tried it. I met some pretty rad people. Back in the beginning, I met a lawyer, so I can ask lawyer-type questions to, if I need to. I met the couple, who are awesome, and I still chat with, once in a while.

But, to determine dating qualities? Nah, not so much. There is a connection that can only happen, standing right in front of another human. There is a spark, or there isn’t a spark. I can stand in front of the sexiest guy I know, and I have no desire to mess with him. And yes, I am talking about a real person, and he is gorgeous, but he isn’t “my type”. Hell, when I really first met Mitch, he was not my “type” physically. When he opened his mouth and started talking to me, he quickly became my type. His smile. The way he spoke with confidence, without being cocky. The way he walked. And his sense of humor, that I missed a lot of jokes from, in the beginning. All of those played a huge role in my attraction to him. Y’all think I have a dirty mind? Guess who taught me? Yeah, you got that right. HA! And when I found out that Meg had stumbled upon it, naturally, dear goddess, help me! She is her father’s daughter.

I’m a firm believer in spirit-people. There are people who are meant to be in your life. I’ve said it a million times. When you meet them, you just know. They could be meant to be a friend, significant other, or a shoulder. they could simply be there, just to help you through a short phase of your life.

I also believe, with all of my heart, and deep, deep into my soul, that everything happens for a reason. Everything.

Mitch dying so young, from something that would be considered an old person’s death, made a bunch of people go to the doctor, and many found out they had issues that they were unaware of. It even, possibly, saved a few lives.

Mitch passing, oddly enough, has shown me how independent I really am. I used to always say, “Mitch, you can’t leave me! I wouldn’t know what to do, without someone making sure our bills are paid, regularly!” Mitch also cooked, and did most of the laundry. When I tell people he was perfect, I do not exaggerate.

EVERYTHING happens for a reason.

My mind is swirling with thoughts right now. I am having memories flash to the front of my mind, like when Mitch was laying in bed with me, and Meg was only 2-3 months old, and she woke up, hungry. He gently shook my shoulders, and asked if he could do anything to help me. He was upset that he couldn’t be of more help, since I was breast feeing, and not pumping or using bottles.

Little things like that bombard my brain every once in a while.

We were talking about how I planned to rid myself of social medias, and a coworker said “I could never do that! The things my kids said, when they were little, I posted about, and it pops up in my memories.”

That’s why I wanted to hang onto social medias. I was terrified of losing Mitch. But, the reality is this. I will never LOSE the memories of Mitch. I will forever have those, stowed in my mind, and deep in my heart. There are memories from everyone else, that can be talked about. I have lost Mitch’s physical form, but his ideas, and his love, and everything he ever was, will, forever, be with me, and with everyone else, who was truly a part of his life.

I actually tried to delete facebook, and it kept giving me an error code. So, instead, I have logged off, and removed the apps from my phone. I haven’t been on Since 6 o’clock, yesterday, and don’t plan on using the account, until I need to create an event, to send invites through. (I wish there was a separate type of event app, like how messenger is a separate entity.) Basically, I feel trapped in facebook. It’ll be okay. If I can quit smoking, and quit drinking soda, I can quit social media, too. (except this blog!)

Oh! I touched briefly on why I think social media has made people socially awkward, in real life, but I really think its made conversations strange, too. I think the “listening to respond” is so much worse than it has ever been before. I can say something, and no one actually hears it. Back to that ridiculous date I had, I said “Oh yeah! I am racing this weekend.” When he asked, for the 4th time, what my plans were, coming up. We had discussed my obsession for OCR, and I had mentioned the 3-Race weekend, and most importantly, how I never do Spartan or Tough Mudder.

He asked, “So, any big plans coming up?” And I responded “Yeah. Next weekend is a 3-Race weekend!”

And he asks, “Oh. What is it? A Tough Mudder?” Did he listen? His body was there, but his brain was elsewhere. I felt like I did a lot of repeating myself, and if you know me, you know I can’t stand that. I can’t stand it so much, that if I don’t hear you the first 2 times you say something, I say “never mind” and leave it at that. If it was important, you’ll ask me why I didn’t listen, and I will tell you how I am going deaf.

 

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.

Learning and Growing

 

As a widow, I know, it’s something we must all do. We must all learn and continue to grow as humans.

Our attitudes towards life and all that accompanies it, it what gets us to who we are, as humans. We can be good or we can be bad. Some of us are bad, and don’t even realize it. Some are so good, and don’t realize it.

Learning from the past is the best thing about being human. We know the outcome, once we have done something.

Think back to when you were a kid, and you heard someone say “if you mix vinegar and baking soda, it’ll bubble up, all over the place!”

Every single one of us HAD to try it out, as soon as we got home. It wasn’t something we were going to believe until we saw it with our own eyes.

As adults, it’s the same and its different. We learn how to balance our social life, family life, and work life. We have to LEARN it. It doesn’t come naturally, and it is not easy. So many times something or someone gets the shaft. It’s never intentional, as we are human, and we are continually learning. It’s a never-ending cycle of life, living and being.

Will we ever be who we are supposed to be, completely? Will we ever achieve complete self?

I don’t think so. I think with every part of life, we continue to grow.

I met a couple, recently. I was on a dating app, (yes, please don’t give me hell. It totally passes the time, and mostly makes me laugh, because some people are so incredibly ridiculous. But that’s a story for another time), and I matched up with this guy. He was kind of cute, and I swiped that I thought he was cute. He already liked me, so we matched up. I had to send the first message, and I did, because what could it hurt? I asked what he was looking for from that site, he said a friend with benefits. I chatted a bit more, and realized he was funny. He was kind of interesting. Then, a bomb was dropped.

“I have a girlfriend and we are in an open relationship.”

*GASP*

“I’m not into couples, man, but we can be friends.” Was what I told him. I was so curious, and always wanted to ask someone about how and why they chose to be in an open relationship. I asked so many questions, and he answered. He said “it’s human nature to want to have sex with multiple people.” I interjected, there. I told him that I was with the same man for sixteen and a half years, all the way up to the day he died, and never had the urge to actually step outside of our marriage for sex, so this boggled my mind.

I have zero interest in having a boyfriend/relationship with anyone, but making friends is fun. No kidding. They texted me one night, and asked if I wanted to meet them for dinner. I said sure, and headed to the restaurant.

I met her and him and we are all friends, now. I went out with them the other night, and ended up with them while they met another couple.

I promise. This is about growing. No, I am not sleeping with this couple, so no worries.

Here I am, the 5th wheel, curious as hell, about this new couple. Those of you who know me, know I can’t keep my mouth shut for too long, especially after I’ve had beer, and even worse, when I am curious. I really am curious.

This couple was cute. Adorable even! They seemed to be even more curious than I was. I could tell they were new to the “open thing” but didn’t want to ask, outright, because I am not dating these two either. ha!

I listened as the 4 talked about this and that, and life and their jobs, and all the small talk.  I was giggling inside. My friends were asking their new friends how long they had been together and how long they had been married. No one asked the question I was dying to know! So, I asked.

I leaned forward in my chair, and asked, “and, how long have you been open?”

All four heads swung my direction, like “did she just ask that?” After I asked, I wondered if it was a question you aren’t supposed to ask. Then, I realized I didn’t care if I was or wasn’t supposed to ask. I was curious, and they were adorable, and potentially going to date my friends. Or maybe just sleep with them? I don’t know? So, they responded.

They said, almost shyly, “um. one month?” So, I asked another question.

“How many dates have you had since becoming open?”

She had one, and he hadn’t had any.

I feel like, the encounter with these people, all four of them, is allowing my brain to grow, and become more accepting of a human beings.

I have learned that people can legitimately be in a relationship, and be completely committed, yet still have sex with other people. It may not be my idea of a perfect relationship, and it may not be your idea of a perfect relationship, but who cares? They are honest with each other, and they are honest with everyone they meet. If everyone knows everything, and everyone is agreeable, then why can’t they do what they want to do? Right?

I had never even thought of an open relationship as something people can manage to live with, however, after meeting this couple, and learning their ability to be 100% honest with each-other all the time, it made me believe that there are actually honest people in the world. And that’s fucking amazing!

I am not saying that my friends aren’t honest, or anything like that. So don’t get me wrong.

I just come from a group of people who are with one person, and sleeping with people outside of your current relationship is frowned upon, or looked down on. If one of my friend’s husbands slept with another woman, it would be considered “cheating” because it wouldn’t be known by both parties.

It is such a touchy topic, I know. But, I am a learner, and I am growing as a human being. I thoroughly enjoy other humans and learning the why behind who they are. I do not judge them, and I don’t degrade them. I embrace them. Of course, there are lines, ya know. Being of age and of the same consenting species are big musts. So please, don’t try to use that with this.

My favorite thing, in life, is meeting people, and hearing their stories. It’s fascinating to learn why people are the way they are.

I highly suggest, next time you encounter someone who believes differently than you do, or lives a lifestyle you can’t even imagine, to ask them questions. Learn about it. Open your mind to understand that just because they are different from you, doesn’t mean they are wrong. If it isn’t illegal, and isn’t hurting people, why should we get mad? Why should we have such strong feelings opposing people’s lifestyles?

 

Learn.

Grow.

Be a better human today, than you were yesterday.

Kindness Matters.

 

Anger Management

I did my therapy session… for anger management… because I am “so angry all of the time!”

My therapist was on her phone the whole time. Even answered a personal call about where and when to meet for dinner. 👎

Any of my therapist friends out there have any advice?

PS: I have to continue until I am cleared, if I wish to keep my job.

And she muttered those 6 irritating words… “I know exactly how you feel!”

Then didn’t seem to believe me when she asked if I was ever mad at Mitch for dying. Hell no I’m not MAD, nor have I gotten mad at him for dying! He didn’t CHOOSE to die. He would have chose LIVING if offered that choice. She even rolled her eyes at me, when I said that!

We are in a circumstance that wasn’t chosen. Why do people assume I am angry? I get mad when I am told to do something that is wrong, and that is OK. I get irritated or annoyed when people tell

me “I know exactly how you feel.” Because, honestly, no you don’t.

Did you grow up with a father who basically walked away until you were 6 or 7, then decided to fight for custody, causing your brother and yourself to go to foster care? Did you grow up in my situation? Did you drop out of high school, live on the streets and not know when or if you were going to eat every day? Did you get a job and pay your way at age 16? Did you get married, then have a child, THEN decide to get your GED and college degree, while working at blockbuster on minimum wage? Did you struggle to make ends meet even though you KNOW you made enough money to cover everything? Did you have a slum-lord who refused to have the plumbing fixed? Did you finally get comfortable, and start seeing the bills fall away, because you went to your boss and said you don’t make enough money for what you do, to get a $6/hour raise? Then, did your HUSBAND (or wife) pass away, unexpectedly at age 34, in what was the PRIME of your lives? Have you balanced everything from your time to everyone else’s time, going out of town for races, and staying healthy, and making sure your child knows they are so loved? Have you REALLY been in my shoes? Do you REALLY know “EXACTLY” how I feel?

I’m not saying you don’t know how bad it hurts to lose someone. But every situation is NOT the same. That’s TRUTH!

I do not get mad about things I cannot control. I have all of my feelings in check, 99% of the time. Everyone is entitled to one loss of control in their life, and no one was harmed in my situation.

I was asked the same question, over and over, and the responses I got were mostly “uh huh” and “yeah?”. Barely looking up from her phone.

I am unhappy with my session. I felt like it was very unprofessional.

Until next session… on a day I told her wouldn’t work for me… but she scheduled it anyway. Okay… GREAT!

I can tell you all one thing. I have had many opportunities to become an angry, pissy, grouchy, horrible human being, and I CHOOSE happiness. I choose NOT anger, as often as I can.

I. Feel. GLORIOUS!

So, before you get mad and hate me for feeling glorious (I don’t really see that happening), let me explain.

Tonight, I went outside to run, for the first time in a while. I had it in my mind to do a 10 minute 30 second mile (average). I’ve only been running on treadmill, recently, and am averaging 9:30 minute miles. (Because it was inaccurate). I figured it was about a minute off per mile, but went with it, thinking, “okay. If my treadmill mile is 9:30 consistently, my outdoor mile will be about 10:30 consistently, and an unpaved trail will be closer to 11-12 minutes. Anyway.

I was listening to Macklemore.

So the lyrics to Macklemore’s songs strike me, quite often as

A: my thoughts.

B: Something Mitch would have said, or HAS said.

Here is one example:

🎶 I feel glorious, glorious

Got a chance to start again

I was born for this, born for this

It’s who I am, how could I forget?

I made it through the darkest part of the night

And now I see the sunrise

Now I feel glorious, glorious

I feel glorious, glorious 🎶

I feel like I was born to be strong. Period. In every way, imaginable. I am finally working on my physical strength, and I. Feel. GLORIOUS! My “chance to start again” is with my health. Mitch passing so young, from a natural cause, really woke me up, and made me get the fuck off of the couch. I am currently making it through the darkest night (the loss of Mitch) and there is sunrise! I find a ray and hold onto it.

I am here, hoping with all hope that I am helping one person see that the end of a life doesn’t mean the end of the world. It only means that we must grow stronger, and feel with everything we have. We must keep moving forward, because forward movement is progressive movement, and progressive movement is the only good movement.

Memories are great, and fantastic things. Pictures, videos, and scents.

Sometimes, I want to get lost in my memories of Mitch. I want to remember how warm and safe I felt, when he wrapped his arms around me. I want to feel his warmth, when I am cold, and tell him to get his stinky feet off of me.

Remember him, I will. Get lost, I will not. It’s very important for me to keep a level head, and a warm heart. It’s important to me, to be a person children can look up to, and see, that with the worst of changes, everything can and WILL work out. I want other widows or widowers to see that it is OK to find happiness, in whatever way they need, as long as they aren’t hurting people in their pursuit of happiness.

You want to speak to a crowd of people about your loss? MAKE IT HAPPEN!

You wish to write a book? MAKE IT HAPPEN!

You want to sign up for those races?! DO IT!

Life is too short for WHAT IFS!

Be the strong you see in your heroes. Be it mental, physical, or whatever other forms of strong there are. Find it within yourself, and nurture it!

You Got This!

You Have No Idea How I Feel, So Do Not Assume You Do.

Please forgive me as I rant.

You. Do. Not. Know. EXACTLY. How. I. Feel!

Never, ever say that to a widow! NEVER! I don’t care if you’re a widow, or if your ex husband died, or if your boyfriend died, or if your cousin’s cat died, you will never know exactly how I feel.

I am astounded by the people who have the audacity to say this, straight to my face!

1: If you know “exactly how I feel” you would never utter those fucking words.

I am NOT angry all of the time. So, please don’t assume that is an accurate statement. It actually takes a LOT to make me angry, and even then, I rarely react, outside of becoming silent, because I don’t want to say something I can’t take back, or I slam doors. Yes, I am aware that slamming doors is childish, but, I do it. Well, I DID it. I chose door slamming when I was young, because no one gets hurt, unless it’s me, because the door bounces back at me. Yes, that has happened. You won’t see me slamming them anymore, since I built up so much strength, and managed to put a hole in the wall last time.

So, here is the deal, and this doesn’t just apply to me. Hell, it doesn’t apply to only widows either, but it didn’t bother me until I became one. Never EVER assume you know EXACTLY how anyone feels! You don’t! And you never will.

I lost my husband-best friend-father to my child-hero in January of this year. It’s been a crazy year so far. I have gotten MAD 1 time. ONCE!

As I type this, I am not angry, I was irritated/annoyed when someone told me they knew how I felt, and have been in my shoes… When actually they haven’t. They were in their OWN shoes, under their own circumstances. Just because YOU were angry all of the time does not mean that’s how I feel.

Just because I disagree with how something is done, doesn’t mean I am mad about it. Disagreeing is a perfect part of life. It means freedom! Just because I am annoyed or not satisfied, does not equal anger. It means I don’t like it. Big deal.

And for the record, anger is a real emotion. It is an acceptable emotion. It is something everyone on this earth should know and feel every once in a while. Without knowing anger, you cannot fully understand all other emotions. It’s a part of who we are. It is a part of you that lets you know that something isn’t right! I mean, to be honest, if you never get angry, you might possibly be getting walked on.

I FULLY recognize that slamming doors isn’t really a good idea. Sure. Duh. But, it happened, and I am here, and I’ll be taking anger counseling for it, until I am cleared by the therapist. Good times.

Don’t slam doors, because you could damage property.

But ALWAYS stand up for yourself! ALWAYS! Do not let anyone make you do something that isn’t right. Just, handle it with grace, like I NORMALLY do. ❤️

Spending the Holidays “With” Your Deceased Spouse.

I’ve dreamed of Mitch, nearly every night for the last week.

In these dreams, we are discussing what to buy for Megan for Christmas, and “Has she ACTUALLY been good, this year?” (The answer is yes. She has been amazing, especially under the circumstances!)

I had one where we were ACTUALLY Christmas shopping. He was being his normal self, throwing things into the carts of unsuspecting strangers. He was also picking up ugly sweaters, and talking about how much he wanted one, this year. (Talked to a friend, and she suggested, without knowing this dream, to get a tiny ugly sweater for his urn! OMG! AMAZING IDEA!) He also got Michael (his brother) something that was ACTUALLY at Target, yesterday! So, naturally, I bought the damn thing for Michael Dale! So, brother-in-Law, your gift was ACTUALLY from my dream-Mitch. I hope you like it!

Last night’s dream was weird! It reminded me of a cross between Home Alone, and the movie that Kevin watches in home alone, along with something that has happened to me a few times, and Meg once. (Keep the change you filthy animal! Bang bang pew pew pow!)

Real: When I was in Nebraska, we were driving down the street, and the street lights flickered as we went under them, and then went dark.

Real: When Meg and I were driving down 95th street, the street lights went out as we drove under them! It was crazy!

In my dream, I was at a bar, it was decorated for Christmas, and we were drinking, and dancing, and having a good time. Meg was at home, with friends, and sent me a text. “Mom! Check the string of lights around the bottle of alcohol in the corner of the bar!”

I have no idea how she knew to look at it, but, I followed her direction, and looked at it. All the lights were out, except the red ones, Mitch’s favorite color. The red ones were flashing. (Maybe a mix of Stranger Things, too!) a stranger came up, and said “That’s Morse code!” And wrote it down. The lights were telling me to GO HOME NOW!

So, I paid my tab, and got an Uber. As the Uber drove towards my home, the street lights flickered and went out, as we went under each light.

I get home, and run inside, and up the stairs, to find Meg in her bay window (yes I have a house in this dream and it is huge and gorgeous!) pointing outside.

There is her father. Riding a bicycle, in circles around our culdesac (Mitch always wanted to live on a culdesac) He was carrying something. He looked kind of scary, then I realized it was because he looked exactly like his bitmoji cartoon. He pulled out a big gun, and started shooting up the neighbor’s home. He was laughing! Meg and I were horrified!

Then, he was gone! We ran outside to go see if the neighbors were okay. And when we stepped out, we looked up, and the neighbor’s house was decorated for Christmas, so beautifully, with no signs of gunfire. It wasn’t decorated prior to him “shooting” it up.

The gun was a special, Christmas gun. And I know, if Mitch were alive, and that thing were real, he would own it.

So, as far as the title of this blog goes, I feel like I am getting more time with Mitch, than I have been getting. We’ve been Christmas shopping, and going over Christmas lists, and he even reminded me to buy something that I had forgotten to get, for Megan! (I am aware these are dreams, so don’t go calling the crazy house!)

Life has been so busy. And it’s just going to keep moving. I have been blessed with the ability to remember my dreams, so I will cherish each and every dream I get to have of him.

Happiest of Holidays to you all.

Thanksgiving Is Near

I am sure there are many people who question, “What do you have to be thankful for?” Because my husband passed away. I am definitely not thankful for that. That’s for certain!

But, I am thankful for quite a lot, actually.

I am thankful for my current health.

I am thankful for my family and friends. (to be clear, alllllllll of Mitchell’s family, is now MINE! I kept them all.)

I am thankful to have the daughter that I was so lucky to have. I could have ended up with a complete A-hole, but, she’s pretty cool.

I am thankful for my employment. I have a work family that has also been by my side, through this journey.

I am thankful that I fell into OCR, prior to Mitch passing, and really found out how AMAZING the OCR community is. Every one of them stood by my side, ready to be there when I was ready to get back into high gear.

Good gracious, I am so thankful for everything else in my life. If Mitch passing has taught me anything at all, it is to be MORE thankful, and appreciate it all.

All of it. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I am at a point in my journey as a widow, where I have been told many people will have already tapered away. This is not how it’s working for me. I am happy that everyone has stuck by me.

I had a very bad day at work, the day after I put up the Christmas tree. I cried through about 10 minutes of a total knee surgery, and the surgeon was great to me. He didn’t get mad. He didn’t ask what was wrong. He just offered me a little break, by allowing me to get it out.

Everything was silent around me (as they kept working, I fell away), all I could do was think of Mitch. I thought about how he always begged to put the tree up early. He would sneak a Christmas decoration in, and see if I would notice. It was more of a game with us. I would get sick of looking at the Christmas decor, where he loved it. If it went up Thanksgiving night, It came down New Years day. If it went up early, it came down December 26th. It was just our way. It’s how we rolled.

I was able to pull myself together and rejoin the surgical team, in what seemed like a very long time. Come to find out, it was really only about 10 minutes.

Oh! One of the many things I am so very thankful for is the videos Mitch left on the computer. I feel like everyone needs to hear his voice.

This was last year, our Ugly Sweater party. Caution: Foul Language was used in the making of this video… For those of you who know his voice, his laugh, this is for you. He isn’t shown very much, but you sure can hear him, and it’s beautiful.

 

Here is a family game night. ❤

 

Be Thankful for the laughter.

Always remember that beautiful sound.

 

 

One Foot In Front Of The Other

Since Mitch passed, I’ve made my life, the way it is, by taking a day at a time. I wake up, roll out of bed, and put one foot in front of the other. Even on the days I can’t stand it. I still move forward. 

For some, it is so hard, to just roll out of bed. But, in order to pay my bills, and to feed my daughter and myself, it is important, and ESSENTIAL, to do it. 

For my sanity, it is essential to keep moving forward. 

There is no “moving on”, as many like to say. That term, to me, feels like I am leaving something behind. I am not. I am taking what IS, and holding it close, and moving with it. 

I am learning, and growing, and building myself, into a stronger, kinder, more loving, and accepting human being. 

I put one foot in front of the other. 

I do it. 

Yesterday, I went back to my daughter’s elementary school, to run a practice 5k with some of the girls that I used to coach with Girls On The Run.  

The last time I was involved with GOTR, it was the morning Mitch died. 

I had sent him a text, asking about something with our computer. He never responded, but that was normal. 

I went to the school, to make 450 copies of this flyer, that had my cell number, and my personal email address, on it. 

As I was finishing up, and walking out the door of the school, my brother called to ask if I’d heard from Mitch, and I said no. He told me that his drivers couldn’t get ahold of him, either, and that was strange. 

I think it was at this point, I knew something bad had happened. 

I was so busy with girls on he run stuff, that I hadn’t realized Mitch didn’t even OPEN the text message from me. 

That day. That was the WORST day of my life. 

So, coaching GOTR wasn’t something I was going to be able to do, since I had to change my work schedule, and be there, with Meg. 

I might have had some unwarranted hostility towards GOTR. I didn’t realize that I had been AVOIDING it, until I volunteered to come run with the girls. 

When I messaged the current coach, I nearly had a panic attack, and started to cry. 

I was returning, if only for 1 afternoon, to do the last thing I did as a woman who was happily married to her best friend. 

There’s one foot in front of the other, and then there’s diving head first. 

I felt like I was diving head first, yesterday. 

It hurt. 

So, I ran. I ran as long as I could, without stopping, and that was the longest I’ve ever ran without stopping to walk. I was at 2 miles before I needed to slow down. 

I beat my personal road running speed, by one minute for a 5k. 

I started cooking, regularly, healthy dinners, and snacks, and everything. 

The recipes I have been getting, I’ve gotten from the man I am seeing. He has shown me, that healthy CAN taste good. I made brownies without sugar! Taco soup, without beans! 

So much flavor, with very little salt. It’s amazing. I’ve even purchased a food processor, so I can start making my own almond butter for recipes. 

Sometimes, I worry about what other people will think about me, as I take each of my steps, jumps, or leaps. 

Other times, I do not care. 

 I should never care. It’s not up to me, what other people think. It’s up to me, to do what I need to do, to make myself happy, and to make Meg happy, and to keep us well cared for.  

I don’t feel that I have to remind my friends or family that we all grieve at our own pace. Again, I am lucky that I have a family so full of people who know this. They don’t need to be reminded. I am saying it for those of you, who hear the rude comments, from people who are supposed to love you regardless of your grief style.