A Widow's Fear of the Future

It was time to plan a future. The first year of widowhood was the hardest. The second year wasn't a piece of cake, but I felt a bit of joy at times and a little less pain. Once I accepted my loss and realized I was the head of my family now, it was time to move forward. I've written on moving forward at specific times in my grief before. Letting go of a spouse's possessions is just one example. I was beyond that. I was getting ready to move forward as a single individual ready to make future goals.

In one way it was an exciting feeling. I decided to take a 3 week course at my local college called, "Fresh Start". It was a program for single women who needed a fresh start in their lives. It provided the tools and resources to decide on a future plan and actions to take to achieve that goal. I also signed up for a dance class.

I decided a Latin dance class would be fun. The night I met Nelson, we were at a night club when I was eighteen. Being Puerto Rican, he had been a great Latin dancer. Five years later, we married. Through the years he had tried to teach me the dances, and I just figured there would be more time for dancing in the future. Didn't work out that way. So now, when I heard the Latin music, I had a desire to want to dance. I think it made me feel closer to Nelson again.

I sensed adventures on the horizon. Like a butterfly teetering on a branch before her first flight. Or right before you jump out of a plane to skydive! There seemed to be endless possibilities of direction. I sensed these college courses would change my life. I felt excited but also fearful of my future. I started to reflect on my past again.

For one and a half years, sorrow had filled my life. Sometimes I didn't want the sadness to leave. It felt like I was leaving Nelson behind. I guess I felt guilty. There was something familiar and comfortable with grief in my life. As painful as it was, it was still my comfort zone. I knew what to expect....cry...feel lonely....dread holidays and birthdays...dwell on certain memories....

So now, to embark on a new future, I had to step out of my comfort zone. This was scary and unfamiliar. I was fearful of the future with no idea of what to expect. However, I could stay in my comfort zone of sorrow, for as long as I wanted, or I could explore a new experience. To me, the second option sounded more appealing and exciting. Yes, it was scary, but just like jumping out of a plane, (Which I did for the first time last year!) the fear leaves soon after the initial jump.

No Fear After Death

When death took my loved one, my whole life was turned upside down. In the first 6 months of widowhood, I could have cared less if I died, so I could be with my loved one. I lived with little fear. I wasn't fearful of flying in planes or the approaching hurricane I lived through while visiting Puerto Rico. I had a calm inside me that gave me freedom. I was free to experience life without being afraid of anything.

Then little by little as the years went by, fear slipped into my life again. I believe this was healthy. It meant that I was living life again after accepting my loss and I didn't want to die anymore. I was hanging on to life and feared what could possibly happen. But I really don't like to live in fear and I try to fight any fears I do have.

So when my daughter gave me a Christmas gift to go skydiving with her, how could I resist! I'm not a big fan of flying in airplanes, but I love amusement park rides and the thrill of riding on motorcycles. I fought the fears inside and took a leap of faith (out the airplane door). It was an experience I'll never forget!

Yes, it was crazy! AND INSANE! But a lot of fun and I'm happy to still be alive. We might as well live life now with as little fear as possible and enjoy it. Because eternal life might be here before we know it!

A Widow's Wake Up Call out of Denial

In my new grief, or should I say, before working through my grief, I found myself out of control. Can anyone relate? Before we want to accept our loss, some of us bury our grief by gratifying ourselves in ways so that we don't have to feel the pain. We find something that works, perhaps eating, shopping, working, drinking, etc. You get the picture. So every time the heartache starts, and we know what's coming, we find our gratifying friend. We may reach for another chocolate, spend a few extra hours at work, buy another outfit, or take that third or fourth drink that we know we shouldn't! Before long, we're on a vicious cycle that we can't stop!!

I relate this cycle to feeling like you're on a ride of some sort, going faster and faster, and you can't stop!! Mine felt like I was on a Merry-Go-Round. I knew I should get off, but I couldn't. It was like having an addiction with no control.

Two months after my husband passed, I took a cross-country road trip with my 2 young daughters. We drove from Florida to California. Nelson and I had married in California, our daughters were born there, and we lived there for 10 years. We had many friends on the West Coast, and I had a deep desire to see them. See my blog post, "Catch Me If You Can". My plan was a week to drive there, 5 weeks visiting friends and a week to drive back before my daughters went back to school.

My Merry-Go-Round started slow and then gained momentum. Before I realized it, I was out of control. I was spending my sympathy money on gambling, gained 20 lbs., and found myself having a drink every time I started to feel that tinge of pain. I tried to rationalize it by saying once I got back home, I would stop. I wasn't sure I believed myself, but it sounded good. I had planned to leave for home on a particular day so we would make it back to Florida for the girls to start school on time. As the day got closer to leave for home, the ache started again and I started to procrastinate.

"Instead of going home tomorrow, I've decided to stay an extra day," I said to Lisa, while relaxing on the lounge chair with a cold beer. "This way, we can celebrate your birthday tonight, and then I'll have a day to recuperate before getting on the road." Lisa agreed, so we went to a Mexican restaurant and stuffed ourselves with food and Margaritas that night. Once again, I succeeded in feeling no pain.

The last day came. I sat on a bar stool and watched Lisa prepare our final dinner. Suffering from a hangover, I held my head up in my hands with my elbows firmly on the counter for support. My head, like my life, was spinning out of control. All of a sudden, the front door swung open with a bang. Lisa's three boys ran in, screaming, "Nicole broke her arm! Nicole broke her arm!" My mouth dropped open at the ghastly sight! Nicole calmly entered the foyer as she awkwardly held her disfigured arm close to her body. It was twisted around backward and out of place!

At that moment, I fell off my Merry-Go-Round and crashed to the ground. The accident happened on a Thursday night at 8:00 p.m. Nelson died on a Thursday night at 8:00 p.m. If I had left California when I had originally planned this wouldn't have happened! I felt like someone hit me over the head and awakened me from a deep sleep. It felt like an alarm clock going off. "Hello!" I envisioned God saying. "Are you still there? You have children to take care of. It's time to wake up. They need you!" God grabbed my attention. It felt like He yanked me off my merry-go-round, and I hit the ground with my head still spinning.

Nicole went through surgery and had to get pins placed in her arm. I had to step up to my responsibilities and take care of my children. I worked through my guilt knowing that God would forgive me. Nicole's arm healed perfectly. The doctor had his doubts, explaining it was the worst break an arm could have. I had to put my trust back in God, and know that He would help me through. He did! I used this situation as an opportunity to get my life back on track.

So when we each have our own wake-up call, we can turn it into an opportunity. We finished our ride and it's time to stand up on our own feet and take on our responsibilities. So what was your wake-up call? Was it rehab? Hitting the scale at 200 lbs.? Getting into debt from shopping? Losing your home from gambling? Losing a friend from adultery? Getting physically sick from working too much? We each have our own story to tell. Use it as an opportunity to get unstuck and move on through grief!

SHOCK! Safe in God's Cocoon

I glanced up toward the hospital ceiling, "Can you see me? Do you know that you died? Are you hovering over me, or did you go towards the light?"

I believed my husband's death marked a time to rejoice. I felt that we'd all be in heaven one day and see our family and friends again. Why should we cry? What's so sad about death? My only sadness was for my fatherless children.

As I settled in for the first night as a widow, I lay staring at the ceiling. "Nelson, where are you? Can you hear me? I wish I'd die, too, so we could go to heaven together." My thoughts raced back and forth all night between imagining my husband's adventure to heaven and planning his memorial service. The joy I felt came from knowing he no longer lived in pain but in eternal peace. I kept thinking, "How cool is that! Isn't that where we all hope to be one day if we're Christians?"

I tried to stay in this spiritual realm for as long as possible. I felt happy, safe, and peaceful. Besides, it looked so dreadful how family and friends were mourning. I wanted to stay in my happy place and be happy for my husband. Because of my faith, I knew that he was ok. I realized that my family and friends needed to grieve in their own ways, even if I didn't understand. Probably many of them couldn't comprehend God's cocoon I was living in that sheltered me from the pain.

"Cindy, I've watched you today," said Fran, a friend from church. "You're a tremendous witness for God. I see how He's filled you with strength and peace. I noticed how you shared your faith, hope and beliefs to others."

For a month, God did fill me with His strength and peace. I could not have done it on my own. I only wished I could have stayed in His cocoon forever!