Moment of the Week

I currently have 3 blogs, lol.  Amazing for someone who has had both writer's block and limited time to write over the past year or so.  There's this one, obviously.  The second, A Moment's Glory, I started about two years ago as a spin-off to this one.  I even said goodbye to Glimmering Through Aspen.   My third is one, Fresh and Fabulous:  Capturing Your Inner and Outer Radiance, is what I use along side my "business" or better stated my hobby as a Lemongrass Spa consultant.

I go through an ebb and flow on each of them.  Right now I find myself with a mild flow on each.  I have even added a new feature on A Moment's Glory, called the "Moment of the Week" to help keep the flow going.  "Moment of the Week" is just a way for me to think about and appreciate something that has happened to me during the week no matter how minuscule it may seem.  It's also a good way to focus a day of writing and to help prevent writer's block, ;).

After yesterday's post here, I felt that my moment of the week from two weeks ago fit in perfectly to show exactly where I am at this point.

MOMENT OF THE WEEK

January 30, 2017

I had just dropped my son off at school on Wednesday morning and continued along my own daily path to work when Fields of Gold  by Sting came on the radio.  That song always brought warm and loving imagery to mind when Dale, my late husband, was alive.  It was unofficially our song.  After he passed away, I was so laden with a multitude of emotions that the song lost its innocence.  I just couldn’t listen to it the same as I once did.  Until Wednesday, and as I made my beeline commute to work on Brooklyn side streets, you could say that I got swept away.

Long after the shock and confusion surrounding his death subsided, it was the bad memories and guilt that hung around.  Guilt being the more powerful of those two forces.  It’s taken almost every bit of the nearly 6 years since his death for me to finally feel those tight grips loosen up.  Wednesday morning, they let go and I managed to listen to the whole song without a bad memory or an ounce of guilt (my nemeses) interrupting.  It was warm and it was sweet and I cherished every moment of that 3+ minute song.

Recovery

They say that there is a grieving process that one goes through when a loved one is lost. The 5 stages of grief according to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross are 1. Denial and isolation; 2. Anger; 3. Bargaining; 4. Depression; 5. Acceptance (PsychCentral). 

A death by suicide is different and a loved one's suicide can trigger intense emotions. The stages of grief differ slightly.  

• Shock. Disbelief and emotional numbness might set in. You might think that your loved one's suicide couldn't possibly be real.
• Anger. You might be angry with your loved one for abandoning you or leaving you with a legacy of grief — or angry with yourself or others for missing clues about suicidal intentions.
• Guilt. You might replay "what if" and "if only" scenarios in your mind, blaming yourself for your loved one's death.
• Despair. You might be gripped by sadness, loneliness or helplessness. You might have a physical collapse or even consider suicide yourself.
• Confusion. Many people try to make some sense out of the death, or try to understand why their loved one took his or her life. But, you'll likely always have some unanswered questions.
• Feelings of rejection. You might wonder why your relationship wasn't enough to keep your loved one from dying by suicide.  (Mayo Clinic)

Now that I am approaching the 6 year mark to the beginning of the end, memories and emotions for me are beginning to stir.  Six years has given me time to heal and to be able to reflect on where I was and where I am today.  

In the early days of this blog, when I was in the beginning-middle of recovery, I couldn't see as clearly as I do now.  And reflecting back on the stages of grief, I can look back and say that my state of shock did not last for long.  There was the initial shock that began the moment I found out, but it didn't take long for that to fade and to only be hit with it sporadically over the years.  Even now, 6 years later, for no particular reason I will think of Dale and say to myself, "I can't believe he's gone."  I suppose there will always be that shred of shock, but not in a sense that is binding.  I believe shock never stayed with me for long because I lived with a suicidal man for years.  Many times he led me believe that it wasn't going to be if but rather when.  I lived my life revolved around that fear he bestowed upon me because somewhere inside, I believed him, and I tried to do everything that I could to never let that happen.

For me, the first prominent stage was confusion.  I saw things in Dale in the last few months that I had never seen before.  He had spoken of the demons, but for nearly 13 years, he kept them at bay.  I was confused as to how one could get to the place he was at, not just towards the end, but his entire life.  Why did he feel this way for so long?  Why wouldn't he seek help?  What happened in his life before I knew him?  Was it depression alone?  Did he have borderline personality disorder?  What role did I play?  Was I an enabler?  Why didn't I see this storm coming?  How could I have been so unprepared? I would look back on our lives and see things differently, but was it correctly?  Did my perspective change?  I. was. confused.  I wanted to understand.  But the more I thought about things, the more confused I became.  It took more than a year to begin to let go.  It was so difficult, especially with my introverted personality.  By nature I think and process.   However, I came to the point where I had exhausted all of my thoughts and questions due to the inability of ever having them answered.  He wasn't here.  I wasn't getting any answers from his family.  I knew everything that I would ever know.  I had to accept what I knew to be true and let go of the rest.  

Dale's death broke my heart.  It was a devastating and traumatic loss.  However, I never found myself in despair.  Sometimes I wonder if raising my son completely alone kept me from despair.  I had no time for it.  I had a child to attend to and there was not a single day that I didn't get out of bed to take care of that child.  I also never felt rejected by Dale's choice.  Admittedly, I thought that after our son was born, he would have been enough to keep Dale going.  I never saw myself in that place, but my son, I believed hoped that he would be enough (what a burden to put on a child).  I do not believe that it wasn't about my son or myself not being enough.  Dale didn't think that he was enough.  He was a terribly tortured soul and from the beginning, I always felt more sad for him (even though he was gone and in peace) than for us (my son and I).  

It took years for anger to make its presence known.  In a way, I understood what he did.  I didn't and never will think that was the right choice or that it ever should have been an option.  But despite what he left me to deal with, I couldn't be angry with him.  Again, I was deeply, deeply saddened for him. Broken-hearted, alone, and confused... but I was alive.  I had a beautiful son and a life.  I was thankful for all that I did have.  It wasn't until I was in "a good place" that I was able to open up the doors to anger.  

One of the things that I had told myself from the beginning was that despite all that happened, I was not a victim.  I was an active participant in my life (even when I was a mush of a person and I wasn't making choices, that in and of itself was a choice).  That mindset made me not regret my decisions and my life with Dale.  (If you haven't read much of this blog, the situation was much more than the suicide).  Those thoughts gave me power, power because I felt that I had control over my life.  It was a necessity, especially at that time.

It wasn't until about 2 years ago or so that I couldn't help but to compare my life with John to that with Dale.  I even went further to compare my life in my twenties (I married Dale at 23) to John's and to other friends in their twenties.  I didn't have many fun, exciting, young and carefree experiences because (even though I didn't know it at the time) life was already strenuous.  I was taking care of a sick person without ever even knowing that I was doing that.  That made me begin to feel resentful towards the life that I had with Dale because I felt that I missed out.  That's when the anger trickled in.  I have had to retell myself that I was there, I made decisions.  I need to take ownership over my past.  And I have and I do.  Hindsight is always 20-20 and I have to keep that in mind.  I cannot change the past, and to be honest, I am not sure if would even want to.  All that I can do is make the most of today and to experience life to the fullest so that I don't look back and have any regrets on how I am living my life right now.  

I also worry about my son.  I always will.  Whenever he gets upset and down on himself, I can't help but to have an internal panic attack.  I can't help but to be worried about his mental state, or his future mental state.  That causes me to become angry with Dale.  I am angry with him for giving my son a predisposition.  All I can do is fight with all of the nurture I can find and hope it kicks nature's ass!

Guilt.  Guilt has been by my side for 5 years.  It found me well before Dale took his own life. It found me when I finally spoke up about my unhappiness in our marriage and the lack of respect that he had for me... which led to his unraveling.  It punched me in the gut when I got the phone call.  It was there whispering in my ear as I tried to work though all of my confusion.  It laughed at me when I began to find happiness again.  It was there day and night and even in my dreams.  I was swimming in guilt.  I knew that it wasn't my fault, that it was Dale's decision.  But I also knew that by my speaking up (which I had the right to do), I caused his derailment.  It may have been an accident waiting to happen, but I was the trigger that led to his end.  I felt guilty that I still had a life.  I still had our son.  I was happy to be alive.  I found beauty in life, even in the darkness.  I felt guilty that I was healthy enough to do that, when he wasn't.  I felt guilty for finding enjoyment and for finding happiness.  Guilt really threw its all at me when I found John.  Maybe it knew that I now had the artillery to beat it.  But for the first two years with John, I was almost consumed with guilt.  What I felt most guilty about, was that I liked my life better now.  I was happier now.  Life was good.  It wasn't heavy.  It was healthy.  Everything was just... better.  God, that was sooooo hard for me to admit.  Even now, I feel a tad bit dirty for say that.  But its true.  My life is better now than it was before.  

My mind battled my guilt mostly through my dreams.  I believe that's because I wasn't awake to put up my guard to protect my true thoughts.  My dreams let me expose them in a safe place, within my own mind.  I worked through it in my dreams.  And I would say it took me up to about the 5 year mark from Dale's death for me to feel the clutches of guilt begin to release itself.  

Since then, I have noticed that I have been thinking about Dale more.  When I think about him now, I can do so without the bad moments ruining the good.  I couldn't do that before because I was protecting myself.  Now, for reasons that I don't quite understand, it's safe.  I can go there.  So I have and as a result, I have begun to miss him more than I have in a long time and that is a strange place for me to find myself in.  For the first time in almost 6 years, it's mainly just me, without shock, confusion, anger or guilt.  What I am feeling is genuine and untainted by the stages of grief.  It's new and I haven't fully processed it yet.  I suppose that is why I am back here writing and sharing all of this.  I can't imagine its a bad thing though.

Our Story

This month of May, which holds the day that changed so many of the lives of people that I know, is a month that I felt was the time to share in more detail the story of us.  What I have shared in the past five months is the story of me.  It holds my thoughts, my perspectives, my discoveries, my pain, my fears, and my hopes.  However, as I reread all of my postings starting from December, I realized that in those words, I have already begun to share the story of us.  It is my hope that what I have shared with you so far was a story of my life that was filled with a great amount of happiness and love.

I believe that love is part of the reason why it has taken me a year, a year of questioning, a year of grieving, and a year of healing to be able to complete the story of us.  My love for my husband was always present just as it is now.  I feel that in this past year, my experiences have brought out from within me a woman who is strong, confident, and one who can speak her mind and express herself in a way that is honest, genuine, and dignified.  I needed to feel comfortable and confident in my abilities to share my story for two reasons, my love for my husband and for the love of my son.

My husband will live on forever with me, with our son, and with the many people who were touched by having him in their lives.  However, the sad truth is that his story is over.  There will be no more experiences, no more laughs, no more memories made by him or with him.  So in the next two days, I have decided to remove the armor and to share with you how our story ended.  I have decided this because of my confidence to do so in a manner that will bring to light the reality of what is now only my life.  There is more to my story to be written and I feel that if it is to be written in a way that will bring me peace and happiness, I do need to let this go.  Sharing only the beginning, only the end, or only the bits and pieces of the in between does not do justice.  I need to share the whole story so that I can move on in a healthy way.  There is one more step in my healing process that I need to reach.  I am not ready for it yet, but after the conclusion of our story, I will be that much closer.

Tree of Life

Autumnal Maple
Zeb Andrews

I began this blog as a therapeutic measure to help keep me in a good place as I set out on this journey into my new life with so much confusion, heartache, loneliness, and sadness from having to experience the tragic loss of my husband.  When I first began, I had two journals.  One that held the utter pain and confusion for the path my life had taken.  And this, Glimmering Through Aspen, the place that didn't forget all of the hurt, but a place that could see the light as well.  This blog held the hope and optimism that was within me, but allowed me to release it so that it could come to life.

They say that time heals all wounds.  I do believe that time has been a good friend in the process of healing.  I do not believe that these wounds will ever go away completely.  There is a hole, an absence, that no amount of future happiness will ever be able to fill.  This is not a bleak outlook.  It is a realistic outlook and one that I do not mind accepting because that hole, was created by a man that I truly loved.  He was my husband and the father of our child who is the the absolute light of my everyday.

Whether it has been time or the breath of life in my words, but I am in a good place.  Part of my healing process is finding myself.  One thing that I have become quite aware of is in fact myself.  Self-awareness has been significant in my healing because I have been able to recognize patterns and thoughts and where they might lead.  I am also aware of my resources and where to go, what to do, and whom to seek out when I feel myself going down a path that I don't want to go.  I do not repress my thoughts or feelings.  I let them come.  I have grown to the point where I can feel them fully, deal with it, and let it go.  I have not gotten stuck in a long time. I also seek out this blog more so than my journal, and I have done so for quite some time now.

The day is approaching.  The day that marks that it has been one year since my husband passed away.  The anticipation of this day is weighing heavily.  I feel that I have come to the point on this blog where I do not want to seek out my journal for the thoughts, feelings, and memories that will be pouring in over the next 11 days.  I am not sure what will come and where they will take me, but I am hoping that I can use this forum to look back on my life with a brave, yet genuine smile.

A Walk in the Past

My parents are visiting this weekend.  With them, they brought my dog.  I had this dog for nine years, ever since she was an eight week old puppy.  She was with me through everything up until September.  In September, my parents offered to take her for the upcoming winter months.  The intention was to help me out so that I wouldn't have to wake up early to walk the dog with my son in the cold and so that I wouldn't have to walk her alone at night with my son as well.  It was very weird at first, not having a dog. It was quiet and lonely when my son and I would come home to an absolutely silent home.  It was even more quiet and lonely at night after my son went to sleep and it really was just me, alone with my thoughts.  But, as with everything else, I adapted.  It was nice to sleep in a little bit later in the mornings since I didn't have to get everyone ready for that early walk.  It's nice to not have to rush to get home from work, the zoo, any sort of outing to let a dog out to go the bathroom.  The little break was needed and appreciated.

As it turned out, my father, who is retired, and my dog, who likes the quiet attention of an older person, are a perfect pair.  They keep each other company during the day and they help keep each other fit and active with multiple daily walks.  So, my dog's new home is now with my parents.  My parents and I discussed this arrangement and for my dog it really is the best situation for her.  My parent's have a house and a yard.  My father is home during the day... Yet, it's just another thing.

However, she is here with me now in New York visiting.  It is so nice to see her.  To see her with my son, to see them play together.  She still seeks out her favorite spots in the apartment to take her naps, to eat her treats, and to plop her toys.  It's as if she has never left.

The past two days I have taken her for her nightly walks.  I've taken her on the usual routes that I have taken so many times in the nearly two years that I have lived in this neighborhood.  There was a comfort and a familiarity in these walks that I have missed.  Between my two dogs, I must have walked over a thousand miles over the course of the ten years I had them.  They were our babies.  No, we didn't dress them up and take them into grocery stores.  Instead we'd walk them rain or shine, hot or cold (that includes snowstorms and hurricanes!).  They went on vacations with us to the beach house.  We'd wake up super early to walk them before a long rode trip.  I even waited while my husband took the dogs for a quick walk before going to the hospital when I was in labor!  These dogs were just an important part of our daily lives.  Now she is officially not living with me and I have adapted to life without her.  So when I do see her, she now remind me of my old life.

Both nights as I walked with my dog, I couldn't help but feel as if my old life was sitting right there, just out of arms reach.  The first night, last night, I actually had to remind myself that when I returned home from this walk, I would be returning to my parents.  It wasn't old times.  I can't ever go back to old times no matter how far I would be willing to walk backwards.

This is one of my favorite pictures of Skye.  <3

Lady Friends

Since I am nearing the one year mark, I have had a lot of things on my mind lately.  I can remember specific events that occurred during this time last year and the exact day that they occurred.  I have been reliving getting the news and have been thinking about everything that happened immediately after.  I have even been thinking about what happened in the weeks and months that followed not long after. 

In the immediate before and after, there were three main people that I relied on, my sister, my best friend, and my sister-in-law.  I don't know what I would have done without them.  They were there for me morning, noon, and night.  They listened to me talk (sometimes in circles), cry, and ask questions that had no answer.  The most amazing thing about them is that not one of them lives near me.  They were not physically present to give me that much needed hug, to get me out of the house, to distract me in someway, to help with my son, or just to sit with me and help take away the loneliness, especially at night after my son went to sleep.  These three women are so amazing that they didn't have to be physically with me. Their love and support was so strong, I could feel it in their voices when we spoke and could see it in their words when we texted.  They were my main support system and thinking back on those first few months, I am in awe that I made it through that hell as gracefully as I did. 

It sounds kind of sad, at the time, I had lived in New York for almost 4 years, but I was only somewhat close with about two people.  These two people were very concerned and I knew they cared, but I wasn't close enough with them to unload.  I didn't know them well enough to seek them out for comfort.  My parents did come and stay with me for a couple of weeks after my husband's death.  But after that, I was quite alone, with my child, in this new world of ours.

One of the first considerations I had when thinking about this new life of mine was to move back closer to my family.  That consideration lasted for about a day or two.  I knew in my heart of hearts that was not the place for me.  I love my family.  I love the comfort of the small town that I grew up in.  I love the grass and the fresh air and the simplicity of it.  I love to visit.  It hasn't been the right place for me since I left and went to college.  I just couldn't do it.  I couldn't envision myself living a truly happy and fulfilling life there, so I decided to stay.  Even though it meant enduring so much on my own.

I am not so alone anymore.  This past year, two women have come into my life and I am so grateful that they have.  They were a gift from my husband.  They were coworkers of his that I had never met before the day of the funeral.  They have supported me and checked up on me and loved both me and my son.  I don't see them as often as I would like, but when we do meet up, it's as if we had been friends our whole lives.  They are truly special ladies and I am so grateful that they are a part of my life now.  I have also become quite close with a few women that I work with.  We meet up regularly for dinner, we go to the gym, they come to my wine and treat nights that I host at my home.  We talk, we laugh, we have a good time.  And there is too of course, my babysitter.  Without her, I wouldn't have the same opportunities to take some time for myself to enjoy my new friendships, to relax, to heal.

My core group is growing.  I am still the same person in that I don't need many people in my life.  I just need good people in my life.  Not only did I find good people, I found wonderful people.  For the first time in a long time, I actually have people that are near me.  I am starting to feel as if I have a family here in New York as well.  That is so important to me.  Especially if I am going to stay here, even if it is for just a little bit longer.  I have to admit though that I am starting to feel like maybe New York could be my home, my son's home, our home.  And I once again have some amazing women to thank for that.  Because honestly, I have been searching for what feels like home for a long time, and this little tease that I am getting now, it feels good.

Like everything else in life, who knows what will happen?  What I do know is that I have yet another blessing to be thankful for.  Thank you to all of my lady friends.  You all mean more than words can say.  :')

    

Familiarity from a Different Sort

Last night was date number two.  It was nice.  He was nice.  I really can't go beyond the word nice.  It's not a bad thing, it's not a good thing, it's... a nice thing.  I am happy with that.  I didn't want a bad first experience nor an amazing experience.  I just needed something comfortable and safe.  That is what I got.  But its the realization of some of what makes me feel comfortable that is difficult.

There always had to be a first.  There is just no way to avoid that unless I vowed to live the rest of my life alone, which I don't want.  So here I am taking the first initial steps in moving on in my life in what I view as the absolute most important and most beautiful of ways, an initimate relationship with another person. 

Last night I cried.  I miss him. 

My date reminded me of my husband in some ways.  When I was on the date, it was familiar.  The familiarity made me feel comfortable.  But when I got home, it only reminded me that He is not here. I do not regret that I have begun my attempt to move on in this way.  I don't think that it would ever be easy, no matter how long I waited and healed.  Just as everything else, this is a process.  It's a painful one though.  It is as if wounds are being opened up again, just so that they can reheal in a different way. 

As I have stated, I know that this is a process that must occur.  It is something that I am willing to endure.  I just hope that it leads to something amazing.  I know that it exists.  I'm not sure if I'm ready for it right now.  But, amazing.  Simply, utterly, phenominally amazing.   

Sixteen Candles (x 2 + 1)

No, it's not my birthday.  This post is all about my date that would have been appropriate for a sixteen year old, lol.  But, the tone was completely created by me.  I wanted simple and sweet.  My date, he delivered.  I don't think I could have had a better first date.

We met in the city and had dinner at popular New York must do that I never did before.  In keeping with the "Sixteen Candles" theme, I had a burger and chocolate shake, no lie.  After our 15 minute in and out dinner, we just walked around the city.  It was a beautiful night.  We just walked and talked.  There were no awkward silences.  The conversations flowed and we got one another's jokes.

The site that I met him on didn't give me the option of stating I was a widow, so he didn't know.  I did tell him.  He asked a few questions and could tell that I didn't want to go into any more detail than what I provided and he casually dropped it with care.  I later felt comfortable enough with him to tell him that he was actually my first date.  Flattered is not the right word.  But he understood the importance of this first date for me and his role in this.  He immediately asked if I was having a good time, and I was.

However, with the stroke of midnight... no, no.  At the stroke of 10:00, I jumped onto the subway and was on my way home.  This is true... I purposely didn't ask my babysitter to stay too late.  I wanted this date to have a definitive ending and I wanted it to be short and sweet.  So just before I walked down the steps into the underground world of the NYC MTA, I got a hug.   I also got asked to go out with him again this coming week.

This person gave me a comfortable place to live out the reality that I am in fact moving on.  I am moving on and I have to do with it someone who is not the man that I married, the man that I had been with for almost 14 years, the only man that I had ever known in each and every way.  I am truly grateful that it was as soft as it could be.

But, I think I gave him something too.  He laughed at how cheap of a date I was, but I think he realized that was only monetarily speaking.  He could tell I was being honest and genuine and that I wasn't playing any sort of game or following any "rules" of dating.  I think that made me different and I think he appreciated that.

One date at a time... let's see what Tuesday brings.

Moving On

I have a date tonight.  It is my first.  I know that I have made a few postings on this topic since I first put myself out there two months ago, but lingering online and actually meeting someone in person are two completely different experiences. 

It's funny how things work out.  I was cancelled on.  I cancelled on someone myself.  And I guess the third one is a charm.?.  But, I think that it is for the best this way.  The first potential date I felt nervous for because I thought very highly of him.  The second that I cancelled on (actually I didn't really cancel, I just made plans instead of waiting for him to respond) seemed too serious or intense.  I wasn't really excited about it, I was just doing it to "break the ice."  But this guy that I am going out with, I don't know a whole lot about.  What I do know is that he seems very sweet and interesting.  I think of this meeting as more as meeting a new potential friend, and that is how is should be.  I don't feel very nervous (yet), and I actually feel comfortable meeting him.  That is a good thing.  A very good thing.  For a first date, I think he is probably the perfect sort of first date, atleast for me.  The date itself is going to be very casual.  A very casual dinner and perhaps a stroll around the city.  For me, simple at this point is the best.  So as I near the 7:00 mark, I am starting now to get a bit nervous, but more so, excited.

However, this is my first date.  My nerves are not so much about making a good first impression.  My nerves are moreso geared around the fact that "it's my first date."  This is a huge step forward.  When I first put myself out there, I wasn't sure if I was ready.  It has been 2 months and I got comfortable with messaging some men.  But as I stated above, virtual and in-person reality are very different.  I won't know how this will truly effect me until I am actually in the situation itself.  That is why I think it worked out for the best that this guy is going to be "my first."  It's strange how we can have an effect on people without even knowing it... His actions may trigger my reactions in either a positive or negative way.  He could make me feel comfortable going out and conversing with another male or he may make me reconsider so that I wait a bit longer.  He has no idea though.  And truly, I do feel comfortable and part of this comfort is that I am not thinking too much into this date, or should I say past this first date.  One day at a time, that has been my motto for everything else, why not this? 

I will let you know how this goes.  :)

Sing in the Morning

This month's Happiness Project focus is on parenthood and as I have already posted, one of the suggestions is to sing in the morning.  The purpose is to help create a light mood and to start the day off right.

Lol, I have to laugh at this one because I am such a lousy singer.  It's embarrassing actually.  It's so bad that my two year old son tells me just about every time I break out into a sing song melodious rant, "No singing Mommy!"  There is but one exception... when I sing in the morning.

One thing that is very important to me and I have tried so hard at doing was to keep my husband as alive as can be to our son.  Talking about him, looking at photos, taking our son to visit his side of the family, and creating some traditions are all ways that I have tried to keep his spirit alive.  Another of these ways is to sing the song that he used to sing to our son in the morning to wake him up.  I have no idea where it came from or if it is just a song that he made up.  It's funny, it's cute, it's a way to wake up.  It goes like this... "Get up, get up, get out of bed... Get up, get up, you sleepy head..."  And that's it.  Or atleast that's all that I know of it.

So, every morning that I go in to wake up my son, that is what I sing to him.  And you know what?  He never tells me to "Stop singing Mommy."  Even on the mornings that I can tell he just does not want to get up for anything, he still let's me sing this song.  The best (and worst, lol) part is that when he wakes up before me or if he ever sees me close my eyes for more than the 1/2 second it takes to blink, this is what I get... "Wake up sleepy head... (in the same tune as the song itself)."  It's absolutely adorable.  Not always welcomed, but always appreciated.  I need reminders too.

Sing in the morning.  Each day is a gift.  Enjoy the moment and the life you are lucky enough to wake to each day.  <3

Fate or Free Will?

This is an area where I am right down the middle.  I believe that there are always options.  We always have choices and have the freedom to make those choices.  Sometimes they are hard to see.  Sometimes they are extremely difficult to make, but they exist.  That sounds like free will doesn't it?  Well, here is where the fate comes in.  I also believe that after freely making these choices there are consequences that follow.  Good, bad, or indifferent, the consequences exist just as the choices do.  Sometimes, it is easy to predict these consequences.  Sometimes it's not.  But, I feel that after a choice is made, it does take us on the path to that eventual consequence.  The difficulty in seeing the precision here is that we are constantly changing our minds and actions and we are not the only factor in this.  There are people all around us that influence our lives in ways that we may not even be aware of,  just as we may not even be aware of these particular people.  All things considered, our paths, our "destinies" are capable of changing.

I have been thinking about life and what I want from it.  As hard as it is, I feel that my theory above does apply to the life I had with my husband.  We met when my suite mate in college got a new roommate and this new roommate was dating one of my husband's friends.  That is what eventually led us to our first encounter.  There are many events that I could pick out throughout our nearly 14 years together where I can see how the choices we made led to particular outcomes.  However, hindsight is 20-20, isn't it?

During this past year, I feel as though certain events and more particular, certain people in my life became very significant in allowing me to have the softest of cushions to help me deal with the loss of my husband.  My family was there for me, in particular, my sister and my best friend.  I became closer with some colleagues of mine at work, where now I consider them actual friends, not just women I work with. I even have some new friends in my life that have made such an important impact in my healing.  Then there were some things like finding a babysitter (on the Internet!) who is absolutely wonderful and who my son absolutely adores.  My home (that I only lived in less than a year before my husband passed), work, and son's day care are all so close to one another.  That is a lifesaver between getting both of us ready in the morning, tackling laundry at the laundromat after work, going grocery shopping, or just running an errand that is so much easier to do without my son.  I can get these things accomplished and pick up my son from day care the time a "normal" (non-teaching) parent would pick up their child.  And I can't forget the perks of being a teacher... great hours, weekends, holidays, and summers off.  I even have health care which is priceless, especially with a child.  All of these factors have helped me to transition to a life on my own and the smooth transition has made my life less stressful and that has helped my healing process significantly.

One thing that I know for certain that I want from life is to meet someone and to be married again one day.  I loved being married.  I love being with that one person and all of the glory and comfort that comes with it.  But, it's a process, one that I am not enjoying so much (more on that another day).  But the first step is to meet someone.  Well, I almost did...

A few postings ago, I mentioned a man that I had been exchanging e-mails with that I was very interested in meeting.  We had a date set, but he had to cancel, said it was a family thing and I actually did believe him.  Just the other day, he wrote to tell me that he was seeing another woman and that it had become more frequent and that wanted to see where that was leading.  Boo!  I was and am still very disappointed.  My impression of this man was that he was in fact very kind and sincere.  Even the way in which he told me about this other woman was done so with care and class.  On paper, I think that this guy was a good one, a real good one.  I'm not sure how we would have worked in reality, but now I won't ever have that chance in knowing.  Timing.  Timing can be so critical.

But was this fate working here as well, my fate?  He used his free will when he chose not to meet me.  I had no control over that.  So if this is my fate, where am I headed?  I can tell you this, not to anyone that I have met online anytime soon. :(

Back in December, I wrote about a book/movie called One Day.  In this story, the two main characters are friends for about 15 years before they (the guy) realize they are soul mates and eventually marry and thus finally find happiness.  Why couldn't that have happened 15 years earlier?  It would have saved them so much heartache and would have added many more years of happiness into their lives?  I think they were fated to be together, but their free will led them both to make choices that wouldn't allow them to be together until the precise right moment.  Timing again.

I have been watching Sex and the City (practically with a pen in hand to takes notes, lol) and have been talking and listening to my single girl friends alot lately.  Even my married friends have stories from their single days to share that are telling too.  What everyone seems to say about the one that got away is that "it wasn't him" or "he's not worth it" or "it wasn't meant to be" or "you can do better."  All of those sayings (and I have said them to) are meant to make you feel better, to restore any optimism or hope you may have had in that one person who may have took a piece of that with them.  However, how long can that work for?  I have only stepped out into the dating world two months ago.  On a scale of 1-5 on how serious I am about wanting to find someone at this point, I'd say I'm at about a 2-2.5.  Despite that low number, it can still feel disheartening when something doesn't go the way you wanted.

So, as of today, April 13 (Friday the 13th no less), these are the choices I am freely making...

• I am exercising regularly to stay fit (and sexy, of course!).
• I am buying some fun and sexy date clothes and am breaking them in going out at night with my girlfriends... no, I will not wait around for a man-date.
• I am on online dating sites and I am only initiating contact with men that I feel are worthwhile, to me.  And I am only responding to men that I might be interested in as well.  
• I am continuing to work on myself... discovering more interests, sharing my thoughts and opinions with others, and even settling in more into my apartment, my home.  

Fate, well... it's fate.  I really can't do anything about that.  However, I am hoping that by making positive and healthy choices, those choices will led me to a fate that is filled with complete happiness (...with unicorns and butterflies and roses! lol)  But seriously,  I am very hopeful and optimistic about my future.  :)

Spring Cleaning

Ahhh.... spring is in the air.  The days are longer, brighter, and warmer.  The trees are in bloom and we have been graced by magnolias, tulips, and lilacs.  The air smells fresher and cleaner, earthy.  Spring is the time for awakenings.  Spring is the time to clean.

I've put the pledge and windex sort of cleaning on the to-do list though.  My "spring cleaning" is of a different sort.  It has almost been a year.  I'm not quite sure how I feel about that.  It seems like it has been both the fastest and slowest year of my life, simultaneously.  However, regardless of the pace of time, this past year changed me in many ways.  

Not too long ago I posted about finding what is right for you, whether it's a job, home, or person.  I have decided, that even though my rent is going up $100 next month, that this apartment that I am currently in is the right place for me, atleast for right now.  There are things about this place that I do like... the location, the size, and the neighborhood.  Then there are some things I don't like about it... no laundry, the layout, and white walls.  It's blah inside.  

I may have never mentioned this before, but I am an HGTV junkie.  I love it.  And I know from my friends at HGTV and from being a one time home owner myself, Decorating 101... Paint!  There is nothing easier and probably cheaper than a fresh coat of paint.  It can do wonders for a room to brighten it up or to just give it a touch of the personality that you want it to have.  Not to mention that it makes the room appear to be sooo much cleaner as well.  Therefore, I have decided to paint, not all, but a couple of rooms in my apartment.  I'm going to use light, neutral colors just because I don't want to have to repaint when I leave and also because I am going to bypass asking permission from my landlord.  I'm actually pretty excited.

I have also been looking around at little things that I can change with the things I have filled this apartment up with.  For some reason I started in the kitchen.  All I did was get knew pots and pans, dishes, and glasses and got rid of the the old ones along with anything else that I never use, and that has made such a difference.  Now, my focus is in the living room.  This is where I feel like I am going to change things the most (with little things) to represent my personality now.  I want to brighten up the place a bit more with some color.  In the olden days, I would have picked out bright colors and florals.     In my married days, the tone was darker and with more plaids.  Now, I want color, but I also want sophistication.  Thank God I have a brown, neutral sofa because my new accent color is going to be purple, like a plum and cream to add that tint of lightness.  I am going to add new curtains, pillows, and a throw to begin.  I also hope to find new lamps.  I never cared much for the ones I have, they were just a gift and I felt obligated to keep them.  However, I have had them long enough.  They and I have both done our duty.  I'm going to go shopping for these pieces tomorrow and I can't wait! 

I have a confession to make as well.  I visited Peter Lik today, the photographer.  Well... not actually him, but his gallery here in NYC.  I talked to one of the art consultants and I am actually considering purchasing one of his photos.  They are super expensive and I am hesitant, but when I see them, they just make me happy.  I was talking to someone today about this and I shared how I just love the landscape photography.  She questioned if it's because it captures life... in it's pure and simplest form.  It's fresh, it's calming, it's beautiful.... yes, perhaps she is right.  I feel like it's fresh air blowing in my face and who wouldn't want to come home to that everyday?  

The problem is, which one do you choose?  This one below is one of my favorites.  I'm surprised actually that it is, but it is.  Can you tell where the color splash inspiration comes from?  

This spring cleaning of mine has also made me put more things away.  I have rearranged some photos.  I have gotten rid of some more non-sentimental decor.  I want to replace the piece of art that was of my husband's choosing with one of my own.  One thing that I have learned more than almost anything is that he is not in things, he is in us.  It wouldn't matter if I did a complete makeover of my whole apartment, it wouldn't take away his spirit.  It's taken almost a year, many good byes, and even more tears to accept that I do not have to feel guilty about choosing to make changes to my life because of the changes that were put upon me without choice.  

As for the changes in me, I am finding that simple elegance is my taste.  I want a simple and clean living environment.  Clean, simple, fresh, bright, light, lively, warm, welcoming, and comforting... that's the kind of home atmosphere that I want for myself and for my son and for the wonderful people that enter our lives as they pass through our door.

P.S.  I did go shopping the next day, today, and got a throw, 3 pillows, two curtain panels, and two candles... all for $100.  I only painted the trim and my room already looks so much better.  I can't wait to throw on some wall paint!

Parenthood

Wow... I cannot believe that it has been nearly two weeks since my last posting.  I've had plenty to write about, it's just that these past two weeks have been tough.  So this topic, which actually is inspired by The Happiness Project theme for the month of April, works perfectly in more than one way.

These past two weeks, I have been busy recooping a very sick child and now trying to recoop myself.  I have been on the verge of sickness during this time, but haven't really budged either way.  I don't want to be sick, but this limbo state isn't good either.  I have been very exhausted.  :(

My son got sick last Saturday and I found out Monday morning from the doctor that it was a viral infection and we had to wait it out, which meant, no meds!  I had to call for reinforcements, which I don't do, but I had no choice, I couldn't miss a whole week of work.  So, my dad, who is retired, drove 8 hours to watch my son for the rest of the week.  (Thanks Dad! <3)

The worst part of being single with a child is not the late nights, the lack of sleep, or the grouchy child (and parent).  It's the worry.  There is no one to share the worry with, no one to reassure that he is going to be fine.  It's scary when your child has a fever, is crying, and you know there really isn't a whole heck of a lot that you can do to make them feel better.  If only hugs could work magic.  So I am partly recovering from stress as I am of physical exhaustion.

Funny, on one of the online dating sites that I am on, I took a quiz to find out more about my "dating personality" and I am considered "balanced."  I am balanced to the point where it can be portrayed (this is all from the website) as a negative by some because I don't overreact, I am not dramatic, and I don't get overemotional, even during circumstances where it would be somewhat appropriate or understandable if one did.  That's just me.  Rarely do I snap and I don't nag, even when I am tired and cranky.  Although I do have my moments, and that is why I am excited about this month's topic in THP.

"Lighten up" is what Gretchen has to say about parenthood for this month's goal of being a "happier" parent.  As with each month, these are the aims that she gives for this month...

• Sing in the morning
• Acknowledge the reality of other's feelings
• Be a treasure house of happy memories
• Take time for projects

As I read this chapter, I felt pretty good about it.  I am looking forward to doing some of the things Gretchen suggested and since this will directly impact my son in a positive way, I know that I will be more successful and take on this month with more gusto than I have taken this project during the past two months, oops.  (But, I seriously do want to get back on track of doing this project because I do believe in it.)  So, I decided that instead of one huge post about all these aims, I will spread them out throughout the month.  

I have mentioned before how I do take life one day at a time and how that has been a true gift.  I slow down, I appreciate the little things, and I don't stress so much.  I've lightened up.  My son is at the age where he is curious about the world around him.  He is both physically and mentally capable of interacting with his surroundings.  He is absolutely fascinated by the littlest of things and he is pure joy and refreshment for me.  He has taught me so much about life; how to live it and truly enjoy it.  The only way I know how to repay that is by creating a loving, happy, and safe environment for my son.  I am not a perfect parent, but I try to be the best parent for my son every day.  Welcome April and a whole month dedicated to becoming a better, happier parent!

Don't Settle

Not too long ago, I wrote about my charm bracelet.  I feel silly writing about a piece of jewelry, especially a charm bracelet.  That sounds so juvenile.  But it's really not about the jewelry or the charm itself.  It's about what it represents and I do feel that is worth writing about.

I had decided that I wanted to take my time in filling up my bracelet and I have to admit that it doesn't look all too appealing dangling from my wrist at this present moment.  But since it has more sentimental value to me than appearance value, I wear it almost daily.

When I went to Las Vegas, the only souvenir that I bought myself was a charm.  That trip was so much more than just a vacation.  It was a concrete representation of how far I had come in my healing and growth and I wanted to have something to remind me of this.  So I was thrilled when I saw a Pandora store.  Even though I happened to forget to put on my bracelet that morning, and even though my bracelet is not a Pandora and I really didn't like any of the charms, I still bought one.

The image above is the charm I bought.  Not exactly what you'd think of when thinking of Vegas, huh?  In my defense, I had just returned from the Grand Canyon and was inspired by that wonderful experience.  I thought it was whimsical and would match the flower I already had.  No, not so much.  I regretted it almost as soon as I put it on my bracelet.

I settled.

I don't want to settle for anything less than what I want or deserve.  I shouldn't have to and I don't have to.  The best part... I am in complete control of that.  Part of my healing process is making sure that my mind is healthy.  And in actuality, nothing else is going to fall into place if its not.  (This blog is just one of the pieces that helps me to do just that and it has been a very powerful release for me. :))

I feel good.  I really do.  I have my moments.  I welcome them and let them pass right on through just as quickly as they arrive though.  I feel that through everything, I have been left with a stronger mindset.  I am optimistic.  I am confident.  I have a perspective on life that is invaluable... I can find beauty in the small, I appreciate the little things, I don't stress over stupid things and I am handling being a single mom with energy, patience, and complete gratitude in having the most precious of gifts.

All things considered, I am happy.  I only want to add more happiness to my life.  Settling for anything, even a charm (lol),  is not going to add to what I need and want from life.  And it's entirely up to me what I invite into my world and what I let go.

So here it is, my replacement charm.  It's called Blue Desert.  The gold bling, reminds me of the gaudy bling of Las Vegas.  The background color doesn't necessarily remind me of the desert or the Grand Canyon, but having the word desert in the name is good enough for me.  This piece complements my others and is a perfect fit.  And that's all I wanted... a significant piece that compliments.  

As for the charm I settled on... it hangs with others and it stands out as the ugly duckling.  In a way, I don't mind that it stands out.  It is the first one that catches my eye every time I look down at my bracelet.  And for now, that may just be the best thing.  As I have started to venture into dating, I want to remind myself that this more than any other area in my life is the one that I do not want to settle in.  There is too much to gain in waiting for that complimentary piece and too much to lose in settling.

Don't Settle.

Baggage

The photo displayed above was taken by a photographer that I was introduced to in Las Vegas.  His name is Jeff Mitchum and I became instantly captivated with his work the moment I stepped into his gallery in The Bellagio.  This piece that I am sharing with you is called "Third Day."  It was titled this because he said it "felt like one could be carried off into eternity with the light..." and that it "represents the resurrection of life." (http://www.jeffmitchum.com/image-portfolio/4X5/)

I paired it with another piece composed by Dustin O'Halloran titled, "We Move Lightly."  I felt that the combination of these two pieces were very much appropriate for the topic that I want to write about tonight, baggage.

I have not shared any intimate details about my husband's death, but in order to authenticate my thoughts for tonight, I do want to share just a bit.  My husband was sick and was for quite some time. Love cannot shield all and the sickness did start to take its toll on me as well.  Having said that, I do bare some wounds from that experience.  I have healed a great deal in what has almost been year since my husband's passing.  My healing process not only consisted of dealing with the loss of my husband,  but of also finding myself once again.  I am now 33 years old.  I am widowed.  I have a two year old child.  I am finding myself.  And I am building a new life.  There's a lot going on right now.  I wouldn't call it drama, but I wonder how many men look at me and see baggage.  

I have not kept the fact that I am a single (widowed) mother a secret on the online dating site that I am on.  There have been many men that have written to me.  There have been some that have immediately asked about the how.  And then there are the ones that may have been turned away by this.  I am not trying to be unfair.  I actually have no idea how many men have looked at my profile and clicked next after reading about me.  It could be very few or it could be a great number.  I do have to say though that I have read on many men's profiles that they don't want anyone with "baggage."   I guess every one's idea of baggage varies.  I do wonder how I am viewed.  

This is what I have to say about baggage, not just my own, but for anyone who has "baggage."  It's not baggage.  It's called life.  It means you took chances, you experienced, you survived, you learned, you grew... you lived.  If you can walk away... walk away gracefully... move lightly, then how is that baggage?  Baggage is heavy.  It is cumbersome.  It should not be confused with one living a life.  

I have thought about what type of man I wanted to find.  I wondered if a man who was widowed or divorced would be a better match because they would have had experienced a marriage and (some form of) a loss.  Then I quickly disregarded that thought as I felt more strongly that it really depends on the individual.  However, I have began a correspondence with a man who is widowed.  I first viewed his picture and thought he was adorable.  He reminded me of someone, someone whose character I really liked and so I immediately viewed him a nice guy.  Second, I saw that he was widowed.  Third, I read about him and found him to be very interesting.  We have gone back and forth a few times now and I get a very good vibe from him.  I am very much into words and I find his to be very kind and genuine.  He is interesting.  And the fact that he has experienced a great loss as I have myself really is in the backseat.  However, I would be lying if I didn't admit that I feel this unspoken understanding with him, this man I have never met.  I do not know anyone personally that has had this experience.  It is not that I wish it on anyone, but it does happen and it is a bit of a comfort knowing that an unfortunate as it is, it is a commonality; one that is not shared with most others.

 I was listening to this song, "We Move Lightly" and it made me think that this is how I have tried to move on with my life, Lightly.  Gracefully.  Optimistically.  I have been thinking a lot about what some of the people who know me best have said about me throughout this past year.  I am a modest person so it is a bit uncomfortable to write this, but I have been admired for my strength and grace in dealing with such a traumatic event and its aftermath.  It is often said, that one's true character is revealed in the toughest of times.  I would very much like to meet this man.  I think that his true character will be revealed in who he has become and what he has done since his loss.  This could turn into something, just a friendship, or absolutely nothing.  But my gut... it's telling me he is remarkable.  It's based on very little.  It's just a gut feeling, and what do I always say, trust your gut.  Maybe I will find out.  Hopefully sooner rather than later.  It's time for a date already (lol)!