The "D" Word

Well that "Be Nice to Dianne" note on my mirror is working. It hasn't entirely stopped the negative self-talk, but I'm giving myself a little verbal scolding when those ugly thoughts arrive, which often is followed by a little chuckle at what I must sound like when I'm in front of that mirror. Ah, the life of a woman living alone.

I've done lots of sharing in Widowed Village these past few days. I don't do that very often. Again, way way outside of my comfort zone, but it's been good to be open and honest and has actually helped me to work through some of this stuff. Come to find out I'm not the only one experiencing these feelings and not knowing how best to deal with them. Who knew?  And an extra special bonus to me being vulnerable in there is that a couple of my favorite people returned to the Village to respond and I was able to catch up with what's happening in their lives. I love the Village.

OK ... I guess I might as well spill a few of the beans about what these feelings are that have caught me so off-guard lately and sent me into a tailspin.  It's that word I never ever expected to say for myself ... d a t i n g ... eek!  Yes, I'll admit it.  It's me, the one who has stood on the soapbox for all widowed people who do not want to ever date or remarry.  Hear me roar.  Well, just to be clear, I will always stand on that soapbox, regardless of how this all turns out.

No, I haven't started dating. And, no, I'm not joining a match site. And, no, please do not try to set me up.  And, no, I'm really not ready to say yes to the stress.  But these totally unexpected feelings about all of this have shown up making me think I just might be open to it. Might be. Maybe. Someday. And that's been a real shocker for me.

This stuff is scary, folks. I have never dated as an adult. Nope, never. I married at 18 right out of high school, and really did not date much during my teen years. Vern is the only man I've ever been with.  I have real, serious issues with my physical self now that Vern is gone (reference my 'Be Nice to Dianne' note). My caregiving years were extremely hard and I don't know if I can handle the chance of having to go through that again.  I don't think my tender heart can survive rejection.

So as I said last night in the Village ...

That was easier.  More comfortable. And I may just do that. So please don't try to convince me that I need to do this ... that I must do this.  I'm working my way through all of these issues and feelings and insecurities and I'm in a good place with them right now. I won't let myself get swooped back down the rabbit hole that occurred last week. 

Because I'm using my God Box.  The physical act of writing out what was weighing heavy on my heart and putting it into that little box for God to handle for me has made a difference. A remarkable difference.

And as my old Village friends who returned with news of their own change of heart and new loves shared with me ... God ... fate ... the universe ... can have a hand in how this all turns out. I don't need to DO anything. I can just continue to live my life as I have been doing and let serendipity come to play if it is meant to.  Just as it did during that amazing summer of 1969. 

Help, Thanks, Wow

Well this has been quite the week. One thing after another just bringing me down ... layer upon layer ... questioning my worth, beating myself up, feeling unloved, not good enough, so alone. Ugh. And then to top it all off, yesterday I had a really nasty gall bladder attack. Really, really hard to have no one around who cares about you when you're not feeling well. OK. What the heck is going on? This is NOT who I am. Help!

So I was forced to do a little self-care. After the pain and nausea settled I climbed into bed with my Lularoes, socks and a sweatshirt, piled on a blanket and afghan cuz I was freezing and just did jigsaw puzzles on my phone. Total waste of time. But was it?  I don't think so.

Because while doing the mindless puzzles, my head was still buzzing and I gave myself a good talking to. I even posted a little something in Widowed Village that was way outside my comfort zone. And when I woke up this morning, the first thought I had was to get up and go for a walk. Thank you, God.  Now that is definitely not my normal waking thought. Wow!

So I put on my 'I am a Brave Girl' sweatshirt and headed out the door (should have put on gloves, too, because it was 40 degrees ... I know, I know .... no need for comments).

And it felt so good. The sun was shining (posted a pic on Instagram) and breathing in the cool, fresh air was invigorating. What a change in my outlook.

During my trek I came across a large group of high schoolers waiting for the bus. Interesting to note that not one of them was smiling and they were not talking to one another at all, just looking at their phones, of course. So I slowed my walk as I approached. And I caught the eye of one who happened to look up. "Good morning!", I said.  And she smiled back at me. And then another one looked up. And I caught his eyes and said "Good morning". Wow!  This felt kinda good.  And as I turned the corner, more kids were heading to the bus stop so I greeted each of them with a "Good morning!" 

The initial surprise on some of their faces (that a stranger would greet them with a smile) saddened me. Perhaps they'll have a better day because of my two little words. Perhaps they'll smile and say "Good morning" to a lonely fellow student today.  I think I may need to plan my walk for this same time again next week.

So when I got home I decided to do something else to take on one of my bigger issues.

The mirror is not my friend. (I have had that issue for as long as I can remember.)  A dear friend had suggested I put a note to myself on my mirror.  (Thank you, Linda.)  So that's what I did.  I'll let you know if it works.

My God Box

Today has been a rough day. Well, actually it started yesterday with some random thoughts that took root in my brain and then just started to grow into all sorts of not-so-good things. And then a big ol' issue hit me upside the head last night.

And the gray skies and rain for two days has not helped at all. I know everyone back East finds that rather ridiculous. Heck, I spent my first 31 years in Michigan so I do know that just two days of gray skies and rain would be a blessing. But we desert dwellers are used to our nearly 300 days of sunshine and it really does make a difference when we have more than one gray, rainy day in a row.  Especially when our feelings are bubbling right at the surface. 

I can't share the specifics of the issues that took me down the rabbit hole today. One is not my story to tell. And the other ... ah, well, it is mine but my heart is so very tender and I'm just not able to share these feelings that have been whirling around inside my head and heart.

And that is a big part of the problem.

There is no one to share these feelings with.

One is something that Vern and I would have handled together and the other ... well it would not exist if he were still here.

And ya know ... he should still be here.  But he isn't. And I. am. alone.

Now I know I have friends who would listen ... but ... I also know I would get advice on both issues that I cannot possibly follow. So today was a day to just feel it all. I don't cry all that often any more, so maybe I just needed an empty the bucket day.

And that's ok.  Even at seven years out.

I took a break from the computer and finished reading a book I had started a few years ago ... "Help, Thanks, Wow - The Three Essential Prayers" by Anne Lamott (thanks for the reminder, Susan). It  helped me shed a bunch more tears and I highlighted a whole lot of passages in the book. Here's one:

"It unfolds, and you experience it, and it is so horrible and endless that you could almost give up a dozen times. But grace can be the experience of a second wind, when even though what you want is clarity and resolution, what you get is stamina and poignancy and the strength to hang on."

And I've created my own little God box that was noted in the book. It's a place to physically give God the things you've been wrestling with or can't seem to let go of.  The act of writing it down and placing it in that box says, "It's yours now, God. Help."  My issues are now in my God box and I await the answers.

And tomorrow? Ah, yes!  The sun will be shining once again.

So long 2017 ... Hello 2018

I can be my own very worst critic.

Oh, I acknowledge that I do some really good things almost daily ... for other people. But I fail miserably at doing things - for me - that really should be done.  I'm a 5 Star Procrastinator, and that's an award no one should ever aspire to receive.

But things are looking up!  I finally started tackling tasks that have needed to be done for a long while. And it feels pretty darn good. 

My old 2003 CRV had been telling me for awhile that it was time to trade it in, as one thing after another kept needing repair. But I was so fearful of having to buy a new car *all by myself* that I kept putting it off.  That was silly, I know. Gosh, all I have to do is recall the hundreds of really big things I did while Vern was sick to know I can do the hard stuff *all by myself*.

So one day I just did it and it wasn't so bad after all!  I love my new car, and as a bit of serendipity, I sold Vern's 2003 Mustang ... to the salesman who sold me my new car!  That action got me going on other things ... cleaning out cupboards and closets, organizing, decluttering.

So now it's the beginning of a brand new year and time for me to select my 'word' for the year. I don't think I did one for 2017 - at least I can't find any reference to it. But 2017 was quite a year: 

• Started up my little Tending Your Heart and Soul business, holding two Soul Restoration retreats in Folly Beach, SC and one here in Las Vegas, and three SoulBook Gatherings locally. 
• Attended Camp Widows in Tampa, San Diego and Toronto as the volunteer coordinator.  
• Traveled to Boise for the Brave Girl Symposium followed by a trip to California to meet up with some other certified instructors. 
• Made my first ever trip to Texas for the dedication of the Soaring Spirits Resilience Center at Schreiner University, where Vern's name is displayed as one of the founding donors. 
• Had an unexpected trip to Maui with Jer over Thanksgiving (thanks to a a friend of his offering us free rooms at his timeshare).

And that was just the travel!   

My heart is very dedicated to the widowed community, so I spend time daily volunteering in Widowed Village and with our regional social groups. I also managed to squeeze in some time to visit The Smith Center for their wonderful Broadway series, to catch shows by my favorite local singer Frankie Moreno, and to have breakfasts/lunches with friends.  

No wonder my house is a mess!  

It was a full and satisfying year, but admittedly far busier than I expected - or wanted - to be in retirement.  I learned a lot about what I like to do and what I don't like to do ... and where my heart is drawn to put my energy and resources.  Especially at age 66.  And I also realized that I desperately need to dedicate some time to ME.

So my word for 2018 is ...

renew

1: to make like new : restore to freshness, vigor, or perfection 

2: to make new spiritually : regenerate

3  a : to restore to existence : revive

    b : to make extensive changes in : rebuild

4: to do again : repeat

5: to begin again : resume

6: replace, replenish 

I can't continue spending like I did last year if I expect to live comfortably into my 90s. And since I learned that I really do not like the 'business' side of soul work - the charging fees, the marketing, getting people to sign up - I've decided to not hold any retreats this year. I lost a considerable amount of money because my fees didn't come close to covering retreat costs and I don't think I can change that part of me. I will always want to do more, give more, to those who need these lessons. So I've scratched retreats off my list for this year. I'm hoping to be able to continue offering the free local gatherings. I have lots of artsy 'stuff' to share and feel it's so important to do creative things with our hands while we get to know other like-minded people. So stay tuned on that.

But for now ... let the self-care work begin.

 

Sparkles!!

If you've been following my blog for awhile you know the history of my Christmas Eve sparkles and how very special they are to me. This is my 8th Christmas without Vern and I did not expect to find sparkles this year. The reason?  I thought I had discovered who my Christmas Eve Angel was ... at her funeral.

Vern & I have lived in this house since 1983 and our neighbors across the street were here when we moved in.  Nancy watched Jeremy after school until I got home from work; our kids grew up together; we shared the good times and the not so good over the years. Nancy lost her husband David in 2004 and her 42 year old daughter Bridget died suddenly this summer. Bridget's service was beautiful, with so many stories shared of the kindnesses she was always doing for others. And then they read the poem, "We Remember Them" - the poem that was left with my first sparkles - and I knew. She had been my Christmas Eve Angel.

But those sparkles did arrive this evening. Beautiful golden sparkles that once again made me think of my Vern.  And I am grateful, so very grateful. 

So was I wrong to think Bridget had been my angel?  I don't think so, but I actually don't need to know who did this tonight.  This gift is such a beautiful blessing to me and I suspect it's a blessing to whoever it is that does this each year. That is enough.  It has helped me to appreciate the beauty of anonymous gifts of kindness. I do a lot of those throughout the year and will continue to do them. To honor my Vern. And in memory of Bridget, my Christmas Eve Angel.

Here's the back story for those who don't know it:
Three days after Vern died, I arrived home to find our street sparkling, right in front of our house. It was like little pieces of gold were imbedded in the pavement, and with the sun shining brightly it made them sparkle so beautifully. I felt it was a message from my Vern ... that he was up there walking the "streets of gold" and just wanted to share a tiny bit of that with me down here.

Three months later, it was Christmas - my first without Vern and my first gift of Christmas Eve sparkles.   http://amyelomawidowsjourney.blogspot.com/2010/12/sparkles-are-back.html

Those sparkles kept arriving, each Christmas Eve. Here's a couple of blog posts about them:
http://amyelomawidowsjourney.blogspot.com/2012/01/kindness-makes-all-difference.html
http://amyelomawidowsjourney.blogspot.com/2012/12/sparkles.html

7 years ... 84 months ... 2557 days

Emotions have run strong this week. But then I've believed from the start that I must 'feel what I feel when I feel it' in order to get through this.  So I've grown quiet. Cancelled lunches and meetings where I'd have to put on the Dianne 'act'. This is the time I allow myself to be selfish and do whatever I must to just honor all that it holds and then move forward. And this one comes right after holding one of my Soul Restoration Retreats, where I shared more than I would normally share about my life and those emotions get added to the mix of my missing Vern.

Please trust that my words are not said to scare any of my newly widowed friends. If you've been following my blog, you know I'm doing well. Trying new things. Stepping way outside my comfort zone. Surviving. Thriving. Growing. Giving. Learning. But this week ... those final 4-1/2 days spent in hospice ... will always be a time that pulls me back to those early days of my grief. And that's ok. I don't carry this sadness with me throughout the year, and you will learn that, too. Oh there are triggers that can hit - mostly songs for me that stir a memory - but I no longer need to pull off to the side of the road when that happens. Now, my heart just fills with the sweet memory of the love Vern & I shared and I smile . . . and I am grateful.

I can remember joining Widowed Village and attending Camp Widow during my first year and seeing people at 5+ years still there. And that was frightening. I did not want that to be me. And yet here I am. 7 years. But oh the knowledge I have gained. Those 5+ year people were there to provide hope and an acknowledgment that we don't leave our loved ones behind as the years pass and we move forward. And they are also a reassurance that we don't have to stay stuck in that early, debilitating grief. I am thankful they were there. And I am grateful that I can now serve that role for the new widowed people joining us.

So today I find myself surrounded by the 3 full carloads of containers and boxes and bags I brought back from my Soul Restoration Retreat. I will get them organized, but not today.  And today the check engine light came on in my car. I will get to the dealer to get that new CRV, but not today. And today I learned of the passing of one of Jer's high school friends/soccer teammates. I will miss today's visitation but will attend the funeral ... tomorrow.

Today is my day to just BE. Whatever that needs to look like. I'll pull out photos. I'll read my CaringBridge journal. I'll read back through my blog entries from those earlier days. I'll remember Vern and our 41 years together. I'll remember the sweet story of our whirlwind courtship. I'll remember his smile that sparkled in his eyes. I'll remember his kindness. His strength. His love.

Reality Check

I spent a few hours in the ER earlier in the month. I thought I could deal with the pain I was experiencing, but after 5 hours of it I knew I needed some help. This was only the second time I've ever been an ER patient in my 66 years - and both were for a kidney stone. Let me just say I would not wish a kidney stone on my very worst enemy.

The hospital visit provided me with an IV to control the pain and nausea but it also provided me with quite an awakening. Well ... the awakening actually didn't truly come until after that stinkin' stone finally passed at home many hours later.

Lying in that ER bed brought back memories of the many times Vern & I were there. Together. And the difference now is that I was there ... alone.  My Vern wasn't there to hold my hand and tell me this was all going to be just fine. Oh boy, I sure do miss him.

I had a CTscan and ultrasound which showed the kidney stone but also gallstones, which I hadn't expected. They sent me home with Percocet and Zofran and I took the first dose and crawled into bed. I slept for a couple of hours but then the pain woke me and I was not happy to see I had to wait two hours before another dose. That day was spent just watching the clock for when I could take the next dose and sleep for an hour or two. Twenty-three hours after it started I woke up and that pain was gone. Hallelujah!

So very grateful for the relief but with my head finally clear from that debilitating pain the pitiful voice in my head took over. Yep. I had myself a little pity party right then and there.

He should be here.
It's not fair.
I'm tired of always being the strong one.
This is my life and what I have to look forward to if I get sick as I age.

I recognize now that it was easy to slide into a rather depressive state because I still wasn't feeling well. But the reality is This.Is.My.Life.  Suck it up, buttercup.

And then the house air conditioner died. Guess I'm 'lucky' that this is the first big, really expensive decision I've had to make alone ... but it wasn't fun. Especially during a record-breaking excessive heat warning week here in Vegas. 117 degrees with no A/C is another thing I would not wish on my worst enemy. But the good news is, this big expense helped me make another decision that has been weighing on me (will blog about that another time).

And now the gallbladder has decided to remind me that it's still lurking. Miserable pain and nausea again yesterday.  I don't "do" doctors; last visit was the physical I had after Vern died (because I promised him I would). And reading the reviews about local doctors is enough to make me decide to try once again to just change my diet. I now realize how very lucky I've been to be so healthy all these years. Not feeling well impacts you in so many other ways. Sigh.

So may I just state for the record that I am more than ready to put this month of June behind me?  Yes, I am. It has not been kind while I'm in the midst of a ton of to-do's and deadlines with retreat planning & marketing and website creating and widow group meets and all of my volunteer work responsibilities. And all I want to do today is sleep. I think that's what I'm going to do. Things will surely look better after a nice nap.

She Did it Anyway ....

I became a Brave Girls Club Soul Restoration certified instructor in April 2016 because I wanted to share this powerful curriculum with others. What a difference it will make in this world of ours. My initial intent was to provide free workshops at local women's and teen shelters, but that's not yet an option available so I had to decide whether I was going to take the leap and offer retreats.

Since losing Vern I have listened to my 'gut' with every new thing or trip I've done and this was no exception. An art retreat I attended in 2013 at a beach house that spoke to my soul popped into my mind, so I started Googling to see if I could find it. And I did!  But then the questions surfaced ... how do I manage holding a retreat over 2200 miles away from home?  I'll need to fly there, rent a car, ship supplies. But since I'd need to fly to Tampa in March as a Camp Widow staffer, I had what I thought was a fabulous idea to hold my retreat while I was already on the East Coast.

I took the big leap and rented the beach house ... figuring that if no one signed up I'd have a week at a beautiful place ... and I took advantage of the generous Brave Girl University opportunity to post it on their web site. And people were interested!  Granted, most of those interested did not sign up ... but 6 did and that filled up my retreat space. Wow! And then I heard from two others who really wanted to attend and asked if I'd consider holding a second retreat there. The house was available the following week so I decided to advertise it and see what happened. I ended up filling that one, too!

Sounds great, doesn't it?  But .... life can throw some major curveballs at you sometimes.

I love being a member of the Camp Widow Leadership Team but it includes very long hours for 5 days straight and then I had a 3.5 hour drive to Deltona (that should have taken less than 2 hours) to pick up some retreat supplies I had shipped to a friend. Headed out the next day for Charleston (a 5+ hour drive) and started to not feel very well. My mouth and tongue were so sore I couldn't eat anything and I had this 'thing' trying to break out on my chin. Nerves? Stress? Who knew.  I had 3 days at a hotel until I got the keys to the beach house, so I set myself up in there, organized my supplies, studied the curriculum, stayed in my jammies and continued to feel poorly. When I checked out of the hotel on Saturday I decided to stop by CVS to see if a pharmacist could recommend something that would help. By this time my glands had swollen and were red and that redness was traveling around to different parts of my neck each day. He took one look and said I should see a doctor. So off to the local urgent care I went. It wasn't a bite ... it was cellulitis. A first for me and hopefully to never return. This is what I looked like the day after I got a Prednisone shot in the butt, started on 10 days of Bactrim AND Keflex and was using an antibiotic ointment on the sores 3 times/day.  Ugh. Not a pretty sight, eh?

And my very first Soul Restoration Retreat guests were due to arrive in a couple of days. Ack! I confirmed that I wasn't contagious so I could hold the retreat and give hugs - and I did my best to cover it up with makeup so I didn't look quite so horrid as that photo. And when that big ol' scab fell off I was relieved ... until I looked in the mirror and saw the HOLE it had left. OMG. The ointment went on more than 3 times a day to fill that thing.

On the very last day of the antibiotics - and the day the second group of women were due to arrive - I broke out in this on both legs and my trunk, front and back. It wasn't raised bumps - reminded me of what Vern used to get when his platelets were low; I believe it was a reaction to the antibiotics.  OK universe ... ENOUGH!

But ya know ... in spite of not feeling well, and the ugly sores and the raw tongue and the rash and the upset tummy from the antibiotics ... I did it anyway!  I held my very first Soul Restoration Retreats anyway!

And I do believe the 11 women who trusted me enough to sign up for my very first retreats took home some wonderful, life-changing tools and new friendships. That's what this is all about. Sharing this amazing curriculum, developing new connections, making a difference.

So when life throws you a curve, just stare right back at it and 'do it anyway' ... whatever IT may be for you. What have you got to lose?

And if you'd like more information about the Soul Restoration course, retreats or modules ... ask me! I have another retreat scheduled in Las Vegas in September: Las Vegas Retreat  - or take a look here to see if there are any scheduled in your area:  Certified Instructor SR Events

Oh the holidays ....

I was just sure that I'd feel better about the holidays this year. I was planning to pull out the decorations, put up my special ornaments, set out my nativity collection and really enjoy the season. And then August arrived with our wedding anniversary and then September with the death anniversary and then October with our son turning 40 and not being in a great place, and then there's my still messy house ... well, the holiday doldrums took a good hold. Now granted, I had a really beautiful vacation with Jer in Hawaii in November and those days were wonderful. Really wonderful. But since returning home, there have been things that just kept pulling me downward. Life things, insecurities, questions, feeling unseen, unappreciated in so many parts of my life. Those of you who know me know that I'm generally a pretty darn positive person ... but hoo-boy there have been some yucky days and nights lately. Now during all of this I continued to put on my happy face and kept posting on FB and Instagram and in Widowed Village and in emails and messages and saying 'yes, yes, yes' to whatever came my way ... but I finally hit a wall yesterday and said "enough"!  I'm taking a FB/IG break for a bit - at least until all of those wonderfully happy perfect family Christmas posts disappear!

Oh ... and my anonymous Christmas Eve angel who has touched my heart by sprinkling glitter on my doorstep since my very first Christmas without Vern has left me this year, too.  Christmas Eve Sparkles

Bah-humbug.

No, not really. I will forever be grateful for that special angel. And I love the true meaning of Christmas - but we have strayed pretty far away from that IMO.

UPDATE 12/26/16! There were sparkles out in the street at the end of our driveway ... where they were that very first time just days after Vern died.  I just didn't see them until I backed the car out of the driveway today. A valuable lesson learned. How many gifts do we not see because we're not looking in the right place for them?

So ... I'm trying to figure out how to get a handle on all of this other 'stuff'. Some of it is just me ... and at my age I'm probably just going to have to learn to live with it. I've always had a self-esteem issue and it doesn't take much for me to feel 'less than' or invisible. An innocent posting showing appreciation to others but omitting me is what led to this latest thing. I'm 65 for crying out loud. Why do I care? I don't do the things I do to be recognized. And why does this take me back to my early days of grief when I just wanted to run away to a place where I knew no one.

But that's unrealistic. Unfortunately. So, instead, I'm spending the day in the Widowed Village chat room ... making sure that anyone who pops in on Christmas knows there is someone else around to greet them, to hear them, to care.

And I'm writing this blog post.  And I've made a list of the online classes I signed up for but haven't started - and have actually started one of them. And I'm organizing my desk. Little steps forward.

I stay active on FB and Instagram because I'm trying to promote my business but when I look at how few people 'like' or respond to anything I post it's pretty obvious that most of my 'friends' are definitely not 'following' me or wanting my posts to show up in their news feed. And, yes, I added that little fact to my pity party yesterday, too. Sigh. When you're feeling down, life just seems to pile on. Or at least that's how it feels.

http://www.tendingyourheartandsoul.com/

https://www.facebook.com/tendingyourheartandsoul/

So ... can I make this business thing work? I've felt called to do this, believe it's my life's work and that it honors Vern, but how much effort do I want to put into it at this stage of my life? I honestly don't know.

What I do know is that I'm very excited about the two small, intimate retreats I have scheduled for March in Folly Beach, SC. The first one is filled and the second one just 1/3 filled. I'm buying and planning and creating some lovely things and can't wait to meet these wonderful women and share the life-changing Soul Restoration curriculum with them at this beautiful beach house. Will I make any money from these retreats? If I fill both of them, I hope to cover my expenses. Will I offer retreats and classes here in southern Nevada? I'm not yet sure about that. I need to find a location I can afford that 'feels' right. So I'm putting that on my vision board. Oh yeah, that's another thing - I plan to hold vision board workshops as part of my business, too. So if any of this interests you - or you know anyone who might be interested - please share my business links and sign up for emails about future events.

It does feel good to just write this all out and put things into proper perspective. When I look back at all I've handled since Vern was diagnosed in 2006, this is really so insignificant. I know I've got this, no matter how it all turns out.

I miss him

I thought I was ready ... well, yes, I am ready. This first part of the journey back to my 'before' life really should have been the easy part. I'm only here in Honolulu because Jer has never been to Hawaii and he wants to see Pearl Harbor and meet up with an old high school friend. The real emotions will come to play when I get to Hana because that was a very special place for Vern & I. Sigh.

So let me just say from the start that Hawaiian Airlines is fabulous! I'm a big Southwest fan, but Hawaiian really knows how to treat their guests. It was a lovely, smooth flight. We even arrived about 30 minutes early!

Grabbed a shuttle to the hotel. Surprising amount of traffic at 6am, so it took awhile. The last time I was here was in 1990 - after we dealt with the pancreatic cancer scare - and it has definitely grown. We arrived at Stay Hotel Waikiki which I booked through Booking.com - first time.  Definitely the last time.  This is the room they showed on my reservation email:

And this is the room we got:

I was standing right at the back wall when I took this photo. Teeny tiny space. We were so tired, we just both laid down and fell asleep. When we woke up a few hours later, Jer made arrangements to meet up with his friend and headed off to the beach. If I were 40 years younger and planned to spend all day at the beach and only land at the hotel to sleep, then perhaps I could have just made the best of it. But I'm 65. And while I don't stay in 5 Star hotels, I do like a little space and comfort and this room had none of that. Not even any room to open the suitcases except on the beds. 

Let me add that the Booking.com reservation was non-refundable. And a gal from the front desk had called to see if we needed anything and when I shared my disappointment that this room was not at all what I had expected, she offered nothing. So I felt trapped. I thought I had gotten a good deal (which is why I did the non-refundable reservation) - but as I sat in the tiny hot space and started feeling depressed, I decided to check the hotel web site to see what they would charge for the room I thought I was going to get. It was cheaper than what I had paid. Argh!!!

And I missed Vern. He would have handled this mess. He should be here, ya know.

And then I got angry.  And I wrote my very first ever bad review. 

I posted it on the FB pages of both Booking.com and the hotel. And decided to suck it up and learn from this mistake ... and headed over to the beach for a mai tai to give me the strength to do just that.

I ordered my drink and sat there looking out at that lovely beach with the ocean at my feet and I missed Vern. And the tears started. Thank the dear Lord for sunglasses and paper napkins.

And then my phone rang with an unknown local number. I don't usually answer unknown callers, but thought maybe Jer had lost his phone so I answered.  It was the hotel's general manager. And she had seen my post and was very kind.  And here's the room we're in now:

Just a little bit of a difference, eh?  Still not like the photo, but quite nice. And there's a desk and a bathroom you can actually walk in and shut the door.

So all's well that end's well, huh?  A good lesson learned.  I'm now starving and going to meet Jer and his friends at a sushi restaurant. I've never had sushi ... may be time to give it a try.

My unexpected ride at Toronto Pearson

Yesterday was a long travel day, but I arrived in beautiful Toronto safe and sound and just slightly bruised ... my ego, that is.

My neighbor gave me a ride to the airport at 9:30 and my TSA Pre status helped me avoid a very long security check line. My full flight of 250+ passengers apparently arrived in Toronto at the same time as several other large flights because the queue to get through customs was out the door. But when I finally got to the front of the line, I sailed right through ... so thankful I didn't have a repeat experience of the past two years where I was taken to a 'room down the hall' for further questioning and a thorough going through of my luggage.

I headed off to find my way to the Union Pearson Express train and found I'd need to go up a level or two. First one, I took the elevator because it was right there. Second one ... the escalator was right in front of me and I was sure I could maneuver my 45 pound big suitcase and small carry-on without an issue. Not!

I positioned my carry-on on a step, me on the next one, and my big suitcase on the one behind me. I got this! What I didn't realize, however, is that one wheel of my big case was on my step ... and then all of us were tumbling. Yeah, that was me.  Thank God for the kind man and woman a few steps below me. They stopped my ride down the escalator or else I would have landed face first at the bottom. Instead, I landed face down on top of my big suitcase, still holding onto my carry-on. Oh and with some of the kind man's coffee on me, too. So very embarrassing.

I am grateful that I didn't break a hip or anything else. Just a little sore today. So I declined joining Michele on her run.  Hah! I would have easily come up with another excuse to decline that invitation.

So a lesson learned. I'm no longer 35 ... and it's ok. I can still do a lot of things, I just need to recognize when it's better for me to choose a safe or an 'old lady' way of doing something and remain upright.

OMG ... they have photos of people falling on escalators?!? I surely hope my ride doesn't end up out in cyberspace!  

Missing you on the day you left

I doubt these 30 days in August/September will ever become 'easy'. I miss him. However, as our August 23rd wedding anniversary started that final countdown this year, I can say my heart hasn't hurt as deeply as it did early on. It's no longer a constant physical pain, but rather one that visits from time to time. And I honor it when it visits. I give myself grace.  Today ... the anniversary of the day Vern died is one of those days.

Six years.

It just does not seem possible that six years have passed. I can easily forget where I've placed my keys or hidden the titles to our cars, but I can transport back to 'that day' in a heartbeat and recall every single precious second. The words, the sounds, the peace, the love. And the silence.

My soul knows ... even after six years have passed, I still wake up around 3:30am each day - regardless of what time I crawled into bed. That was the time I had to get up each morning to give Vern his meds before heading out the door at 4:30 for dialysis. That didn't happen this morning. Instead, I awoke at 5am ... the time he died. Six years ago. My heart knows.

My previous blog post mentioned the conversation I had with Mary-Anne Wagner. What a precious gift that has been during these 30 days. I have felt wrapped up in the comfort of the words and visuals she shared with me. I'm not alone, Vern is right by my side. Forever and always. And I must say that the little 'heart' surprises have been plentiful lately.

This has been a busy week. Prepping for our Toronto Camp Widow, working on a class for Brave Girl University, trying to finish up my new web site, working on all of the fabulous details to include in my first soul restoration retreat, staying on top of the activity in Widowed Village, posting my regional group events. I say 'yes' too often, I know, but these are all things that are very important to me. Oh - and I'm also taking an online course through UCBerkeley on 'The Science of Happiness" and doing the "Uninvited" online Bible study with Proverbs31.

I'm 65 ... I have a limited time to do all of the things I need to do to 'become all that I am". So I will pack as much into my days as I possibly can doing good things, being of service, learning, teaching, sharing, giving, listening, caring, loving ... because I know Vern is watching ... and enjoying ... it all.

The Soul Knows ....

This time of year always seems to bring memories and triggers. Our wedding anniversary is in August and September holds the end days. I've learned what I need to do is just ride the wave and give myself some grace whenever it's needed.

So far this year these months have brought the death of a friend (with the funeral at the same mortuary Vern was at), followed later that same day by a widow friend entering the hospital (and being in the exact same room Vern was in the last time he was there), coming face to face with a couple of my moon people (this is a Brave Girl reference), sitting on a jury looking at spinal MRIs and listening to doctors (words not heard since caring for Vern) and yet another widow friend is in the hospital. Instead of these things bringing me to my knees I found the memories they triggered to be almost comforting ... reminders of the amazing love and soul connection Vern & I shared for 41 years.

Perhaps these were tests to see just how well I'm doing as the 6 year death anniversary date approaches. And I can honestly say that I'm doing ok. Really. That doesn't mean that I don't still have days that I must sit with my grief. I miss him. I will always miss him. This life I'm living now is not at all what I expected it to be. Not at all what I wish it could be. But wishing will not bring my beloved back. So I will live my life for both of us. And I will be quiet and sit with my grief when I must. There is room for both.

My life is filled with many good things. Unexpected things. Friends - in-person and online - that I would never have met without my loss. Creativity and art and retreats and learning and writing that I am quite sure I would not have experienced if we were still 'Vern & Dianne'. I'd give it all up in an instance if it would bring him back, but I know that cannot happen. So instead I choose to be very grateful for the blessings of these unexpected gifts.

Mary-Anne Wagner was one of the speakers at the Brave Girl Symposium. Her soul counseling presentation really spoke to me so I contacted her to schedule a session and it landed just two days after my anniversary. It was an amazing conversation that validated several things in my life and will stay with me forever. One was the beautiful connection that Vern and I have ... even now ... which reinforces why I have no desire or need to seek a new partner. Hearing that he is enjoying watching me have this time in my life was a truly wonderful gift.

And then there's my unexpected gift at WalMart. Her name is Donna. I was in the paint aisle when a woman commented that she liked my haircut and color. I shared my stylist's contact info and we started chatting and didn't stop for over two hours! We just couldn't believe all of the things we have in common. Kindred souls.

I guess the take-away from this post is that I hope you will be open to all of the possibilities that life presents to you. Try new things. Listen to your gut. Hear those whispers. Act on them. You just never know what lovely things they may bring to you.

Our 47th Wedding Anniversary Remembrance

I wasn't quite sure what I was going to do this year to honor our wedding anniversary. I loved that first year so much (45 Random Acts of Kindness) but found last year to be difficult. The 5 year mark hit me really hard, so instead of doing something that required me to physically interact with others I just slipped my love notes in public places for unknown people to find (It's all about the LOVE).  So here I was facing my 6th wedding anniversary without Vern and wanting to continue to do something special to honor the love we shared.

And then I recalled Lisa Palmer's presentation about the homeless at the Brave Girl Symposium and I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I created these little packages with a love note, encouraging words, a little heart token and $5 tucked inside and distributed them to the homeless people I encountered.

It took me a few days and I still had some envelopes to give out - but as luck would have it, I was selected for jury duty and spent a full week downtown. Sadly, I saw many homeless on my walk from the parking garage to the courthouse. Some were curled up sleeping in a shaded spot by a building, so I just slipped my little package along side them as they slept. Others were sitting on benches or on the curb under the shade of a tree. Handing them these little love notes and having them look right at me and say 'thank you' confirmed that I had made the right choice in how to share my anniversary love this year. In fact, it's been such a good thing that I've made extras that I carry with me so I can continue to give them out.

Sharing love is a gift to yourself. Try it. I guarantee it will fill your heart. And, for me, each time I have handed out one of my little notes I actually feel Vern whispering his love for me.

On being BRAVE ...

I attended BRAVE Girl Symposium last week and it was amazing. Fabulous speakers sharing such incredible messages. Truths revealed. Intentions identified. Important conversations for this scary world we're living in. Meeting people I had only known on-line. So much love and sistering in one place. Those three days filled my soul with love.

I was amazed at the number of Symposium attendees who came alone, not knowing anyone else, not really knowing anything about Brave Girls. Some came just because they receive the Daily Truth emails, some because they've taken a class in Brave Girl University, some because they're fans of one of the speakers. I was able to meet several of these new BRAVE Girls - a couple of them were widowed and I was able to share important widowed resource information with them. And one lovely gal approached me in the hallway after the Soul Restoration Certified Instructors were asked to come on stage. She wanted to know when and where I would be holding my Soul Restoration Retreats because she had noticed me and my 'energy'. Wow - that really made my day.

One of the group art projects was a paint stick quilt. Each attendee was given two paint sticks to write their "She Did It Anyway" words which were glued onto a wall. Really powerful to read all of the words. I was late turning my sticks in, so I think mine are mixed in with those on the floor.

I'll share one of mine with you: "She felt invisible, but she walked into the room with a smile anyway."  That may surprise some who know me - or who know of me - but I really struggle with this and felt it much of Symposium. Never feel quite 'enough' ... even in the midst of lovely old and new friends. I didn't get a photo opp with Melody or Kathy or any of the speakers or 'high profile Brave Girls' and was only asked to be in a couple of group photos. So this is me being BRAVE and speaking my truth for those other gals who were there and felt the same. I'm rather sure I'm not the only one and sometimes just knowing that is enough to help us work on those feelings.

My Symposium experience was tempered by a deep sadness in my heart. Just before leaving for Boise I received word that a dear friend was nearing the end of her cancer battle. Robbie has set such a loving example of kindness and bravery through all of her life's struggles. I debated whether to cancel going to Symposium and instead fly up to Reno that day to see her. But after many discussions and lots of prayer, I decided to head to Boise to fill my empty cup so I would be better able to lovingly say goodbye to my sweet friend. I left Boise for Reno early Saturday morning and returned home Sunday evening. That short time with Robbie was hard. So many triggers taking me back to my time with Vern in hospice. But I am so very grateful I was able to say goodbye, tell her how much she means to me and reassure her that I will be there to support her husband through the coming hard months. Robbie is the BRAVEST woman I know.

Note:  Please see that I've placed links in this blog post that will take you to registering for next year's Symposium, signing up for the Daily Truth emails, checking out Brave Girl University, seeing the list of Certified Instructors and linking to my 'under construction' website about the Soul Restoration Retreat I've scheduled. Some of these are affiliated links for me.

My Brave Girl Adventure

As mentioned in yesterday's post, I recently spent 12 days in Idaho for some amazing Brave Girl training. Beautiful location, beautiful women, beautiful souls.

I honestly don't have the words to convey all that I received from my time in the mountains. Unconditional love, for sure. But so much more. Women supporting and encouraging one another. No comparisons. No judgment. No gossip. No complaints. Just lovely women openly sharing their talents, their knowledge, their hearts, their stories. What a precious gift.

The Brave Girl University (BGU) Teacher Retreat took place first. I was rather intimidated going in because these women are already well known for their work and have existing classes and websites. But it didn't take very long for me to be able to put away my "less than" feelings. Serendipitous moments. Kind comments spoken just when I needed them. Offers to help me where I'm struggling. And then there's Melody and Kathy and each member of the Brave Girl team. I know that my life would be very different if I hadn't found them back in July 2012. I am forever grateful.

I'm now working on a BGU class that I would never have thought to do if I hadn't been at this retreat. Lynette listened to my story and immediately said I should prepare a class on it. Of course, I pushed back - but she didn't budge. She recognized that I'm willing to do things for others that I won't do for myself and used that insight to convince me that there are others out there who need to hear this and learn that they are not alone in their struggles. So I will share my little secret and work alongside my students as we each climb our mountain.

While the retreat had a more laid-back schedule, the Soul Restoration Certification Training was very intense. So much really important material to get through, so we started early and finished up late each day.  This course has already changed so many lives and I'm honored to be entrusted to teach it. I'm not sure yet how or where I'll be sharing this course ... whether in women's or teen shelters, a 6-week long weekly class or at a retreat. Lots to figure out with business licenses and insurance and possible venues. Not to mention coming up with a name for my business. I'm working on it and believe that the answers will come.

On that final evening at the lodge in McCall, after all of the hard work had been completed, we stepped outside to view the night sky in all its glory. So breathtakingly beautiful. Countless stars in the dark night. And then we found ourselves in a circle in the middle of the road, embracing one another and softly singing "this little light of mine".  No photo could have captured the exquisite beauty, peace and sisterhood of that precious moment that will forever remain in my heart.

Would you like to learn more about all things Brave Girls? Just ask me and I'd love to share - or click on the links below:

• Brave Girl Symposium?  Click HERE
• Brave Girl University (BGU)?   Click HERE
• 30-day FREE trial for BGU?  Click HERE & use my coupon code:  diannewest
• Sign up for Daily Truth emails?  Click HERE

Brave Girl Symposium July 6-8

I recently spent 12 days in McCall, Idaho for the Brave Girl University teacher retreat, followed by their Soul Restoration certification training session.  I cannot emphasize enough how amazing it was to be in the company of all those Brave Girls.  Powerful. Life-Affirming. Supportive.

Can you just imagine what it will be like to be surrounded by HUNDREDS of Brave Girls? Wow!

You don't need to imagine it ... you can live it ... July 6-8 ... by attending the very first Brave Girl Symposium in Boise, Idaho.  I'll be there - and I'd sure love to have you join me.

Click  HERE  to see the preliminary Symposium schedule and all the details. Hope I'll see you there.

You need a death certificate for that? Really?!?

I donate blood regularly. I have for many years, but I especially understand the importance after the many, many, many times my Vern needed transfusions to stay alive. So I headed off to Sunset Station this morning for my scheduled appointment and was in and out within the hour.

They were giving a free breakfast or lunch buffet coupon if you donated, so I took my voucher over to the Rewards Center to get the actual coupon to use sometime this month. Easy, right?  You would think.

I handed the voucher to the nice gentleman along with my driver's license and mentioned that I didn't have my reward card with me. He said that wasn't a problem and proceeded to pull my info up on the computer. He verified my birth date and printed out a new card and handed it to me, along with the buffet coupon.  The name on the card was Vern West.  Ummm ... "That's my husband." ... "Oh, your card is printing out now."  "He died."  "Oh dear, I am sorry."  "It's been 5 years."  "That's ok, just bring in his death certificate and we can remove him from your account."

What????  Are you kidding me???  For a casino reward card?  Ack!!!! There aren't even any points on the card.  (No - I didn't say any of that out loud. My experience this past weekend with the delayed/cancelled flights and seeing how badly others behaved is still fresh in my memory, so I'm practicing kindness these days.)

So Vern will be staying on my Sunset Station rewards account. He's still on the Verizon cell phone and DirecTV accounts and our gas and electric utility bills. They're all paperless and paid automatically from my checking account, so seeing his name on monthly bills isn't an issue. And it's not because I'm procrastinating about doing this (I do have a rather long list of THOSE things). It's because having to pull out that stinkin' death certificate is hard. Even at 5 years. Trust me, I know he's dead. I'm living with that. Every day.  But I can choose to not have to handle that piece of paper that authenticates the death of my forever love just to have his name removed from an account. It's a choice I can make quite easily, thank you.

And in case you didn't know, my young widowed friends are required to carry their spouse's death certificate with them whenever they travel out of the country with their children. That just makes no sense at all. It should be noted on their passports so that awful document isn't needed.

I also received a t-shirt for my blood donation today.  If you're able, I hope you'll consider being a regular blood donor. It's so important to have a blood supply available for those who need it. Trust me ... I know that, too.

Old? Not a chance!

I took a hard tumble last night and for a moment, as I laid there not sure I would be able to get up, I felt old. But only for a moment.

Lately I've been hearing a lot of "old" comments. Oh, not directed AT me ... but just casual references to others using that "old" adjective to describe people in their 60s.  I'm sure my friends aren't even thinking about their use of that word - even though in most every situation it is not used as a flattering term.  To my friends in their 20s and 30s, I'm old. I get that. Probably also to some in their 40s. My 50ish friends see me traveling the road just before them, so I doubt they'd like to use that word since it hits a little too close to home.  But really ... why do we humans feel the need to categorize ... label ... limit ... compare ... and judge others?

Perhaps you know some who have succumbed to the public pressure to "act their age" but, thankfully, I'm seeing so many who are living with 'their number' and not letting it define them. Go gray if you want to, or add some pink or purple to your hair.  Wear the clothes you want to wear - even if you find them in the young women's section.  Put on those bright colors. Live your BOLD life!

I happened upon a Facebook post yesterday that really caught my attention:

"She said I am not old; I have lived a hard life.
I have lived a long life. Has it been perfect, no. She said am I happy with where I am in my life right now, yes. Does she have any regrets, no.
She said I have amazing strength and courage, for which I discovered during my times of pain and agony. She said I also have tears of joy.
As she looks back on her life, she realized she had created a master piece, not knowing at first what a beautiful creation she would live to tell others about.
She said I slaved and sacrificed from the ones I love, loving them, she also found the love for myself that carried her through times of second guessing herself; she realized she is worth it.
She said I am whole, unique, lovable and real.
She said my body may have changed, my face may have wrinkled, but my heart and soul remain the same, giving love and having that love return to her.
She said that I may not have been what you wanted me to be, but I am not old, you still may see an old body, but I have come alive inside, the spirit of youth remains forever inside, and once you discover it, you embrace it and never let it go.
When you look at me, don't judge me and don't ignore me, for I have stories to tell. I will share with you where I have been and where I still intend on going, and don't tell me I can't do it, because you think I am old. After many years of trying to prove her worth to others, she has realized the one person that truly matters how worthy she is, is herself.
Don't tell her she is old and it can't be done at her age, for she will prove you wrong.
Accept her and love her for who she is, she is brave, bold and beautiful."
Mary Costanza   Link to Mary Costanza's FB post

And then today, Elizabeth Gilbert posted about an inspiring conversation she had with her 73-year-old Mom.  Here's a link to her Facebook post:  Elizabeth Gilbert's FB page

 and Melody Ross shared another relevant quote from Mary Costanza's page.

"As a woman gathers more years, she becomes more bold, which is not the same as brave: Brave is jumping in. Bold is jumping in led by angels. In age, we learn to know the difference. For certain, 'older is bolder'.  Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Don't you just love that?  "Jumping in led by angels."  Wahoo!

So to those of you who are fretting about turning 40 (really?!) or 50 or 60 ... how about we just forget those numbers. As a widow, I can assure you there are no guarantees how long any of us will live. So why not live each day the best that you can?  I miss my Vern. I will forever miss him. But I have to tell you, I hear him cheering me on each time I take another bold step in this alone life. I.am.not.done.yet.

And yes, I did get up from my fall and I'm ok.  Actually, I was more worried about being able to get on that plane tomorrow morning to attend the Brave Girl University teacher retreat and Soul Restoration certification training. Because that's how I'm living my BOLD life!

If you'd like a FREE 30-day trial to check out Brave Girl U, just use my coupon code (diannewest) on the registration page. I've finally posted an intro video and will be getting my courses added after the retreat.  http://www.bravegirluniversity.com/

Oh Sheryl Sandberg, what have you done?

So it's apparently "news" that Sheryl Sandberg, Facebook's COO, may be dating less than a year after her husband's death.  Really?  Why is that any of our business?  And why on earth are people being so judgmental in their comments?  This is her life. She does not need your permission to date nor does she need your ugly comments ... and I'm rather grateful that she's probably not reading them.

But my widowed friends are reading them. You know ... those of us 'regular' folk who have lost our loves and are facing it every.single.day. Our lives may not be covered in the national press, but we do hear those comments, those judgments. And so do our children.  And they are hurtful and just as wrong for us as they are for a 'celebrity'.

I am truly excited, thrilled and grateful - regardless of the time since loss - when:

• a widowed friend decides she/he is ready to start dating.
• a widowed friend finds a new love.
• I can attend or hear of the wedding of a widowed friend who has found their Chapter Two.

I feel these lovely emotions even though that is not something I choose for myself.

So why can't we just let everyone live their best life the way they choose?

I choose to not date or remarry and I've felt this way right from the start. For me. Personally. Not something I push on others. Not something I say is better or the way we must do this widow thing. It's just for me - and I guess to also be a voice for anyone else out there who may feel as I do.

But while responding to the offensive comments made by NOT WIDOWED people to all of these Sheryl Sandberg articles, some of my widowed friends have edged up to a line, too, with comments that could also be offensive to me and others like me if we didn't know and love the people making them. To paraphrase ...

"my married life made me love being part of a couple so I want that again"
"because we loved so well the first time, we want it a second time"

"loving again honors him instead of wallowing in grief and wasting my life"

 "I want to model resilience by moving forward with a new love" 

These kind of statements - even while said in response to hurtful and ridiculous comments about widows dating 'too soon' - have a subtle implication that those of us who choose not to seek a new partner had a bad marriage. Or that we are wallowing in our grief and wasting our lives. Not true and not fair.

I believe I am modeling resilience ... just for a different audience.

So ... to my friends who are not widowed ... please do not pass judgments on others for things you have not experienced. You do not know what this alone life is like, you do not know how you will feel or how you will want to live your life when that time comes. Trust me on this. Just love your spouse or significant person while they are still with you - and show love and compassion to your widowed friends as they do the best they can to move forward in the way they choose.

And to my widowed friends ... please be cautious with the words you use to defend yourself against those who feel they have a right to comment about how you live your life. You really don't need to defend yourself. How you live your life is none.of.their.business. And it's ok to just tell them that. Period.