You may have noticed I haven’t written a new entry since “I Thought I’d Be More of a Slut.”
Here’s my dilemma. Where do I go from here? I’ve met someone. I’ll call him “M” which is “W” upside down if you’re dyslectic. I’ve taken myself out of the dating pool (I’ve never been much for swimming) to enjoy and see where this relationship goes.
Here’s the hitch. I don’t really want to take you along for the ride. And I don’t want my children to be privy to my antics. Suddenly, I’ve found my privacy gene. Who would have thunk it?
More importantly, publicly sharing my life today, normal and natural as it is – is beginning to feel disrespectful to Jimmy’s memory.
I’ve gotten away from the point of the blog which was to express the aftermath of widowhood from my very personal day to day living. Did I set this up to help other widows? Come on. Anyone who knows me knows I am way too self absorbed for that.
Writing forced me to pinpoint my exact feelings and it gave me clarity during an unimaginable unfocused and searingly painful period. Notice there are two ME’s and a MY in that previous sentence. I told you – self absorbed.
Now, almost three years later, I’m in a new period and it’s none of your %$*!%^business. Of course, I only mean that in a loving way.
But, and that’s a big BUTT – from all the confusion and loss comes wisdom and son of a gun – a bit of grace. I believe I really do have something valuable to offer other widows. I have managed to hold onto myself. (not literally) I’ve lost my spouse without losing myself.
This is clear to me because my sense of humor is undoubtably what most defines me to me. That has remained in tact during some extremely dark days to boot. I’m seeing that I can inspire other widows to step outside of their comfort zone to find themselves again.
In the two bearevement groups I joined and failed and in my sessions with Gene, my evil shrink, I took away one phrase that rang right. Our lives will never be “normal” again, not in the way we knew it, but we must strive to find “the new normal.”
Even doing familar things feels unfamiliar because we’ve been damaged. I know this only too well. But, time and the right attitude heals us. I can’t do anything about the time. My name’s not Ann Sullivan, the Miracle Worker, you know.
Yet, I believe I can champion other widows to choose a positive healing attitude. I can help them to accept their “new normal” by rediscovering their “old self.”
After much thinking (so much so that my furried brow needs an extra shot of Botox) I’m going to turn this blog into an advice column for widows and widowers. It will be helpful and real and funny and entertaining.
Besides the comments displayed here I’ve gotten tons of e-mails throughout the life of this blog. They always tell me how much my blog has given them strength. Unfortunately, many of them are too pathetic to print.
So, please write to me and let me know what you think about the new format…which I haven’t shown you yet (will begin it ASAP) and to the poor widows and poor widowers out there let me hear from you.
To e-mail me: click on “View My Complete Profile” above the orange “Health Maven” to find e-mail address. Thank you, as always for reading and allowing me a forum to shout from.