A Year Gone By

I don't know why, but I felt like it was a big accomplishment to make it through the first year of widowhood. I wanted to scream, "I made it!" (Whatever that meant.) It was a milestone. It was one full year of living through every holiday, birthday, anniversary, and season without my loved one. It had to be the worst year ever. And it was finally over.

With a sigh of relief, the time seemed right to clean out the rest of Nelson's possessions. Whatever I couldn't keep, I gave to family or friends. This was done of course on my good days. I moved in life as though in waves. Sometimes I'd forge ahead a little happier with energy, and then just as quickly, get drawn back into sadness and knocked down in despair.

During this time, I recognized my friends' compassion, who knew our situation, and how much of a difference this made on our family. A few months ago, what seemed like a good idea to move out of state, I realized it had been a terrible idea. "Thank you, God, that I listened to my friends who told me not to do anything for a year." Now, I couldn't imagine life without our friends' love and support.

I began accepting more social invitations. I noticed that the more outgoing I became, the more sociable people were towards me. As my self-confidence grew, it became easier to fight my negative feelings. And those depressed feelings were sometimes right around the corner. At times I had control over my emotions and at other times I'd lose control and feel like he just died the other day.

One of the hardest situations I still had to face, was attending my children's school functions. I proudly watched as they participated in the end of the year talent show to show off their dance and gymnastic abilities. I was on cloud nine watching them but once it ended my mood sank as I watched the other dads applaud. Knowing that my daughters will never experience their father's approval again, how sad is that?!!

So I began giving myself the "Blessing Lecture" every time I felt like I was going down. God blessed us with a certain amount of years with Nelson. When Nelson was on this earth, he filled us with more love than some people hardly find in a life time. We had wonderful memories of him as a husband and father. This helped me to pick myself up, brush off my tears, and saddle back into living life. Living life with amazing daughters, a wonderful family, and irreplaceable friends!

A Widow's Commemoration

I would imagine that most widows dread the anniversary day of their husbands death. Especially the first year. Kind of like a holiday or birthday, it's a BIG one. As the day approached for me, I contemplated what to do. It felt too big of a day NOT to talk about it. But who would really bring the subject up?  I realized that I would have to make the effort to talk or suffer alone in silence.

"I'll invite our friends to go out on the thirteenth, in memory of Nelson. Why ignore the day? It would just make the pain worse. This way, we can be together to comfort each other." For our night out, my friends and I went to a neighborhood pizzeria. It was four couples and myself, which accentuated Nelson's absence all the more. Our evening consisted of sharing our memories of Nelson.

The evening seemed healing for not only me but my friends, too. Not one of us had wanted Nelson to die. He was a wonderful person. We all had funny memorable stories to share. We laughed together and I felt a sense of joy to have these wonderful friends in my life. I bought a round of drinks and toasted to everyone's glass, "I couldn't have done it without each and every one of you this past year."

I felt Nelson was close by. I wondered if our feelings and soul could connect to the spiritual world. Or did I just want him here so badly? I knew I wouldn't know that answer until I died. So for now, I decided to enjoy the relationships of family and friends that were presently in my life. And this special night would become a new memory. A memory of how much my friends loved me.

"Cindy, these are for you." Sal handed me a bouquet of roses. "Nelson would have bought them for you." Tears filled my eyes. "All of you are so sweet. I couldn't have made it through this day without your company." And to this day, many years later, I have memories of that evening. Of the first anniversary of my former husband's passing. Memories that are so sweet. Good memories.

There are other ways to commemorate. Coming from another widow's blog, Heatache to Healing, read Joanne's post, "As Time Goes By - Celebrate and Remember". She begins; Do you remember the song “As Time Goes By?” it was made famous in the movie “Casablanca” and hundreds of artists have performed it over the years. Time going by is a fact of life and yet when you are grieving the loss of a loved one time can feel as if it stopped.

So if you are contemplating what to do on that memorable day, I hope you don't suffer in silence. Call a friend and make a plan. Share stories of your loved one. Laugh, cry, and reminisce. You may find that you'll be making new memories, too. And it may help to soften the pain just a little more. "Cheers, to you and your support system that keep you going!"

Tossed Back and Forth in Time

How can it feel like it happened yesterday, but then seem so long ago? I'd been a widow through the first year of holidays, summer vacations, birthdays and our would have been 12 year anniversary. In one way I felt like a conqueror but also anxious for the year to be over. I felt like a year marker would be some sort of a relief. Like, "I DID IT! I made it through one year!"

I reached the point in my grief where it was time to put away the rest of the sympathy cards. As I read each card again, it brought me back to yesterday (10 months ago). It still seemed hard to grasp. Felt like it happened just the other day. Where did the time go? I knew it was time to let go if I wanted to move forward. I put the cards with the others in the funeral book.

I looked around the house; time had taken its toll. I realized I had to maintain it by myself now. "Do you and your husband want all the carpets cleaned?" the carpet cleaner man asked me as he brought his cleaning machine into the house. "Actually, I'm a widow." After a pause and some embarrassment, we shared a few stories and laughs. It felt like ages since my husband had died.

I wasn't ready by any stretch of the imagination for a relationship. In fact, I still had my mind made up that I wasn't even going to date. It was just nice to have some casual conversation and a few laughs with a male. How I missed laughing with Nelson. It felt like just the other day I was having laughs with my best friend. Now I'm laughing with another male in my home.

It wasn't time to let go of the comfort from thinking about my former spouse. He brought smiles to my heart. He was still a part of my life and my heart still felt connected to his. I would always remain faithful to him. I would wait until we were together again. It wouldn't be long. The ten months that went by, was like a day. Like it had just been yesterday.

And so was my life for a while. Feeling like he had just passed yesterday and then feeling as if it had been so long ago. When it was yesterday....I'd feel his closeness. I relished the memories that were so close that I could practically touch them. And when it felt so long ago, I'd look to the heavens and see where God would lead me next. There was a sadness in that time of letting go, but there was also an element of curiosity. What is the plan for my life now?

Writing the Memories

During my first year of widowhood, memories of my husband flooded in from happier days. They were crystal clear...like our family vacations. We frequently flew to Puerto Rico to visit his parents. They would occasionally babysit and we'd run off to the beach for some time alone. I'd lie on the beach and listen to the Salsa music playing from the close-by, beachfront establishments. Nelson would play a few games of pool and then bring me back some yummy food.

Then there were the memories that came before the holidays. I'd remember Nelson just loved Thanksgiving! The more family and friends around him, the merrier he was. I reflected on one particular Thanksgiving with our friends, Lisa and Sal. We laughed so much that day that probably our sides hurt. Maybe you won't think it was as funny. But there are those times that you just had to be there.

Nelson and I arrived for Thanksgiving dinner just as Lisa ran out of milk for mashed potatoes. An hour later, when Lisa poured more milk in the cold potatoes to mash them, all she managed to get were lumps. Giggles in the kitchen became contagious. When the turkey was done, Sal lifted up the gizzard bag that he forgot to remove. Once we composed ourselves from laughing, we sat down to eat. For Lisa's next birthday, I included a box of instant mashed potatoes!

I could tell more stories. It's been 17 years since my late husband passed. I can remember the details because I wrote them down. In the first year of painful grief, every day I wrote the memories while I cried many tears. This helped me to progress through grief and now I have these memories forever with me. From the happy times to what I remembered when Nelson was dying in the hospital.

I believe that writing your memories is one way to become unstuck in your grief. I think sometimes we don't want to forget special moments we've had with our loved one and we keep our thoughts constantly on them, clinging to every detail. If we can get in a habit to write them down, it would be easier to move on. We would know that if the memories are written down, whether in a private journal or public blog, we could go to them whenever we felt the need.

Writing down memories takes time and courage. It's making a conscious effort to make it a priority. It takes guts, too. The tears will come and this helps you grieve. As you write the past this makes it easier to let go and move forward. These treasured memories will always be with you. And one day, as you read them, instead of crying tears, a smile will spread across your face!

First Birthdays in Widowhood

My 35th birthday came a month into widowhood. One of my best friends took me out to dinner that evening. You really know who your closest friends are when it comes to celebrating birthdays and holidays in the first year. After all, how do you make it a celebration? Why would I want to celebrate my birthday on the first year of being a widow? Well, thank God for shock in the grief process. At least I was still numb when my birthday hit.

Now fast forward seven months and Nelson's 35th birthday was upon us. The shock had worn off by then. I was still trying to accept my loss and move on. Somehow, I had to make it through the day. "Girls, let's have a birthday cake for Daddy and invite some of our friends over," I suggested before they darted off to play. "Can we have ice-cream too?" Jessica asked as Nicole squealed with approval. "Yes." I smiled at their happy faces.

I invited Angela and Sal's family from next door along with Kelly and Joe's family from across the street. It was a bittersweet get-together. We all sang "Happy Birthday" to Nelson and then blew out a candle. The kids ate their cake and ice-cream then ran off to play. We sat and reminisced of our memories we had of Nelson. I needed this day of reflection with some of my close friends. It validated a beautiful marriage I had and a celebration of Nelson's life.

I was no expert, but I believed our celebration of Nelson's birthday had a healing effect on all of us, including our friends. It gave us an opportunity to reflect on favorite memories we had of Nelson. It brought us sadness, joy, and laughter. This in turn helped us take another step forward. We didn't have to forget and not talk about our grief of losing a loved one, rather it gave us all a chance to share how much this person meant to us. A gratifying experience.

We kept this tradition alive for many years. Of course as life goes on and changes, this ritual eventually ended. It served a purpose during our years of healing. Whether it's a birthday cake, or another way of celebrating your loved one's life, it's an important part of healing. It's a way to validate how important this person was in your life and shows your children that their parent is not forgotten!

I'm curious to know what others have done on their loved one's birthday. It might give other widows some ideas who have that date looming in front of them at this time. Somehow we have to get through the day. We can ignore the elephant in the room or we can accept the fact that though our loved one is no longer with us physically, they remain in our hearts forever. Let's share the love with others. How did or will you celebrate his birthday?

First Male Caller- Poor Guy! I've Come a Long Way!

Friday the 13th this month...this year. It's been 17 years since the passing of my first husband. Seems like a life time ago. But when I open my book, that I condensed from my journals, I remember clearly how I felt during my grief journey. I have special memories that live close to my heart. Yes, I grieved deeply because I loved deeply. When I became a widow, for a long time I wanted to die a widow. No one could ever replace Nelson. No one could ever make me as happy!

About 6 months into my widowhood, I received my first phone call from a male. He was one of my friend's relatives that wanted to help me out. If he was one of Nelson's friends, I wouldn't have minded. But he didn't know Nelson, so why did he call? He left a voice message and freaked me out!! I didn't want the girls to hear a male's voice on our answering machine and I didn't want to talk to him!

I hysterically called my friend. "Tell him not to call me!" My heart was beating fast. I didn't want any man calling me unless they were Nelson's friends. Such a small matter in my life loomed like a skyscraper. You would have thought he was trying to force me to marry him. I never wanted to talk to any males on the phone, or date any males, and of course, NEVER marry anyone else. I told my girls that we didn't need any men around, and certainly didn't WANT any around either!

So how did I ever get remarried?? Here I am, 17 years later, happily married again and looking forward to our 3rd anniversary this June. I look back on those first couple years of widowhood. I wasn't going to budge. It was a process. And I do believe that for some widows, it is better not to remarry. There's nothing that feels more protecting than having God our father fill in as our husbands.

But there's this thing called human nature. I desired to love and to be loved. It took me a while to understand, but I finally realized that our hearts our big enough to love many people. Just as I love each of my daughters 100% each, I found out I could love another man 100%. Just as one child could never replace another child, my second husband will never replace my first. But that doesn't mean I love either one of them any less. It just means I'm blessed to have had 2 wonderful husbands!

What I did learn though, was that in order to love the second one 100%, you have to grieve the first completely. Each widow has her own time table and I recommend God as your guide. I could have made some really bad choices for our family but I choose the path less traveled by most. Continue on this journey with me and find out how I made it this far, with God's blessings, in a beautiful second marriage.

My Grief Journey: 2 Steps Forward...1 Step Back

A half a year had passed. This was a big marker in becoming a widow. But my life still seemed confusing and off balance. As I moved forward to find some sense of direction, without warning, I'd collapse in despair. Perhaps a memory was triggered from hearing a familiar song. This could cause me to instantly fall apart. Then sometimes I didn't care to move on and I just wanted to wallow in memories of my husband. I never knew if I was going to go forward or backward each day.

Since my life took a new direction, I had to reprioritize it. Every morning I read from Our Daily Bread devotional and then prayed in surrendering to God's will to feel peace in my soul. This was easier than to struggle with doing it my way. After all, my dreams were shattered six months ago. Now, all I could do was handle one day at a time. God's peace helped me along in a forward direction.

As I moved forward, I tried my best to also help my daughters. My oldest daughter enrolled in a gymnastics class that she liked to do. My youngest daughter was picked from her dance class for a competition group. Even though this required additional time and money, they deserved this happiness. I wanted them to pursue their dreams, and one day maybe I could rejoin life with new goals, too.

Since I had been a professional hairdresser, my friend Trish came over one day so I could do her hair. As I started, a Kenny G. song played on the radio. What freaked me out a week prior with a panic attack, this time I was totally at ease. I told Trish about the anxiety attack at Bonco. One story led to others from my grief adventures. "You should journal all your tales as a widow," Trish said. "You'll want to remember these experiences." The idea to write a book seemed challenging.

I felt like I was moving forward at a good pace when I thought about where I'd been compared to where I was now. But we should never become too confident. Because within a few moments or thoughts, we can be down on our knees in tears. We can be in so much despair and sadness that it sets us back. And as we take that step back, we want to stay there for security. It feels a little safer when we know what to expect then to keep going forward into the unknown.

I think if we continue to have a few good days in a week, it's ok to wallow a couple days in sadness and gloom. It's healthy to have productive days of moving forward in grief as well as having a few days of back sliding into a familiar place of sadness and depression. As long as we don't get stuck in our depression, we can continue to praise God for His help in moving us forward. Kind of like a few days of sunshine, after a couple days of rain. Any other analogies?

Embracing the Pain

Once I surrendered to enduring the pain of losing my husband, the process of healing began. It actually took almost a half a year to come to terms that he died. Only by calling out to God and feeling a peace slip into my soul, could I function during many days. It was too much for me to bear alone. The pain was wrenching. I just let it keep coming, day after day after day. It became a ritual to get through the day as a robot, and then cry and scream into my pillow every night.

The height of my pain went on for several weeks until I reached a climax. I reached a turning point. It felt as if I finally came to terms with my broken heart and felt comfort with the familiar hurt. Since the pain made everything real, that my husband truly died, I embraced it. Because I felt that once the pain faded, the memories would fade, and the memories were all I had now.

So as the intense suffering began to subside, the realization of wanting to keep my husband's memories alive, enabled me to embrace my grief. Each day I welcomed my journal time to grieve and reminisce. I'd sit down and journal my thoughts as I cried. This was my cleansing and my time of remembering my husband. Reality still felt overwhelming, so this was my way of living in the past and feeling comfort from feeling the pain. Does this make sense to anyone else?

Embracing Holiday Grief

I had to face it, holidays would never be the same after my husband died. I soon realized that I was never going to share time with my loved one again. There would never be the traditional Christmas shopping together, putting up Christmas decorations, shopping around town for a real Christmas tree, or going to a Christmas party together. I was never going to see another smile from my loved one or hear him say "I love you". At times it felt that life would never be joyful again. And holidays seemed the worse because of so many joyous memories.

I had many other joyous moments in life. I remembered how joyous I felt when my children took their first steps, how excited and happy they were on Christmas morning. Then they went to their first day of school and they were no longer toddlers. I grieved to a certain point because I remembered the beautiful memories of them as babies, but knew that period of time was over and could never come back. But I'm still able to smile of those memorable moments.

Children grow up, get lives of their own. If we're blessed, we can still share time with them. We take what we can get and savor every moment. Life is different, but we live in the moment and make new memories. Are we going take advantage of the present, and find the joy? Or will we still live in the past and wish they were toddlers with excited faces on Christmas and feel sad that it could never be like that again? If we live in just the past, we'll never find joy in the present.  

Why not embrace the past and smile that we were fortunate to have wonderful memories. That's how I came to embrace the holidays through my grief. I had a wonderful man for many years. Yes, I was deeply sad that he died at a young age. It didn't seem fair. But I had to face it. He wasn't coming back. All I had were the memories. I embraced them. I remembered how he loved shopping for Christmas, wrapping presents, decorating, and parties. I recalled how much he loved his family. I now smile when I think of those bittersweet memories.

But I can also smile in the present when I see my adult children making good choices and having lives of their own. I smile when I can spend time with my 2 year old grandson and he tells me he wants Santa to bring him a bike for Christmas! It brings me joy to hear Christmas songs on the radio that I've loved since I was a child. This causes me to remember childhood memories that I can never live over, but embrace the past with a smile. Merry Christmas!!

Does this help put things in a different perspective for anyone?

My 12 months (not days) of grieving

These were my first twelve months of grief:

First month: Shock
They told me Nelson died. But I didn't feel sad, angry, or anything. I actually felt joyful that my husband was in heaven and no longer in pain. Why were others so sad?

Second month: Denial
Nelson's presence was still close. There were many coincidences that proved my husband had not left. I denied my grief and was comforted by dreams that he was still with me.

Third month: Instant Gratification (Out of control!)
Drinking, eating, gambling, shopping, and traveling. Within a couple weeks, I was into a pattern of habits that I couldn't stop.
(excerpt from my book)

"If I stay as close to the Lord, like I am now," I confidently told my friend, Lynette, "then I'll never feel any grief from my husband's death." I stirred my Margarita then swigged down the last gulp.

"It doesn't work that way." Lynette adjusted her kitchen blinds to block out the early evening sun. "You're still in shock. But once you get back home, the pain will come."

"We'll see." I didn't want to argue. "I think I'll have one more drink before we go out to eat."

Forth month: Guilt (Coming out of the fog)

Why didn't I call the doctor sooner. Doesn't matter. My husband is not coming back. I'm the only parent. What was I modeling? How could I be so selfish and neglect my children?

Fifth month: PAIN (My broken heart!)

Unbearable and excruciating pain. A knife stabbing my heart. Relentless nights of weeping to God. As the pain released, I felt God's comfort. Only God's love could mend my broken heart. 

Sixth month: Depression (Letting go)

It was October, a change of season, and the holidays were approaching. I started cleaning out my husband's closets. I gave his favorite leather jacket to his best friend. I cried.

Seventh month: Disorientation (Past or present?)

Sometimes I wanted to go back. I wanted to cry and live in past memories. A familiar place. But my children lived in the present and my friends encouraged me to keep going forward.  

Eigth month: Revelation (Acceptance)

My first holiday season consisted of visiting numerous family and friends from all time periods of my life. This revealed that Nelson was not my entire past, only part of it.

Ninth month: Comforting moments

The pain came and went. Moments of joy between moments of pain. We made new memories over the holidays by allowing our family and friends to share our pain and fill us with love.

Tenth month: What do I do now? (My future?)

Should I move closer to my sister and parents? But professionals say, don't make any big changes for at least a year. I better wait a few more months. I just don't have a clue as to what to do.

Eleventh month: Finding fun and socializing

It was time to go out and dance again. It was time to meet new people. I needed to feel alive again.

Twelth month: Time to reminisce

I spent the anniversary of my husband's death with friends. We all went out and celebrated Nelson's life. We all shared our best stories of the best memories we had of this wonderful man!

Thanks for the Memories

Another year of holidays is upon us. I smile when I think of my loved one now. I remember there was a time in my life when I had no idea what grief even meant. At that time, we were a happy family of four. Thanksgiving meant celebration with either family or friends with food, drink, music and laughs.


In my first year of widowhood, I grieved not only for my loved one, but I grieved that I was certain that I'd never have joyful holidays again. My daughters were 6 and 7. It was now up to me to have some kind of holiday spirit for their sake. My parents came to stay with us for the first Thanksgiving. I didn’t feel thankful for much. I actually felt bad for my parents because I was not a joy to be around.


I knew that Christmas would be worse so I planned some traveling over the holiday break. It soothed my pain to a certain degree to see family and friends that I hadn’t seen in quite some time. I even went back to Piscataway, New Jersey, where I grew up and had lunch with my neighbors after many years. I began to feel that life was more than my married life and I was now making new memories. 


So year after year, the three of us made new memories. We continued taking trips when possible and drew joy from the love of family and friends. Holidays were not so painful anymore. There was pain AND joy! Much better than just pain!! Soon the pain lessened on those holidays. I began to remember them with a joyful heart. I can now think about past holidays when we were a young couple with 2 young children and smile. It was a good time.


But life now is good, too. I’m looking forward to celebrating Thanksgiving with my second husband, my parents, my mother-in-law, my 2 daughters, my step-daughter, my hopefully one day, son-in-law, and my grandbaby.  Although, we’ll be making new memories, we’ll never forget our prior memories. Happy Thanksgiving!