Mustang Sally

I graduated high school in 2004. It was a pretty good year, finishing high school and on to the new and more exciting life of college. My parents were super excited for me and so proud at how well I had done in high school. I was 17 years old and I drove a Chevrolet Cavalier that I'd gotten for my 16th birthday. I'd always been obsessed with Mustangs though, and I wanted one so bad. So, so bad. Specifically an older model - a 67 Convertible, red with a white or cream top. Ooooooooh baby.

So, my dad made me this little deal. He told me if I got a free ride to college, he'd buy me my car. He however did not want me to be driving an older one no matter how refurbished because he felt they were lacking in the safety features of newer vehicles. So, the agreement was a free ride to college would lead to a brand new Mustang. Who can argue with that?

I busted my butt on scholarship applications all of senior year. I didn't want student loans. No amount offered was too small and no essay requirement too long. If I met the criteria, I was applying.

I ended up with a full ride to college and so dad (and mom too, of course), holding up on his end of the bargain, took me to the Ford dealership and home we went with my new car.

I named her Dorothy (Dodo for short haha) because she was ruby red like the slippers. She had a tan top, leather interior. V8 engine and manual transmission. She was lovely. Of course I drove her everywhere, she was my car (and we'd traded the Cav in).

In 2008 upon graduating from college, I started working at the Army post near my parents' house. On and off post Dodo and I would go every day. We'd go to the PX on lunch, and one fateful weekend in August, we went to the bowling alley.

That weekend, we came across a gorgeous Marine. A group of silly Marines actually, but one in particular that would change my life. After the bowling alley closed, the Marines and I were headed to the rec center a few streets over to keep hanging out. One silly Marine walked me to my car and I offered him a ride. Two more silly Marines jumped in the back because the top was down. I had to tell them to get off the back and put their seatbelts on I was not getting a ticket on post! My Marine gave the other 2 a dirty look, he wanted to be with me by himself. I drove us over to the rec center. The other guys went ahead and me and mine hung back. As we started walking over, the other guys called up and said we couldn't go in, the Marines had to return to the barracks. My Marine asked if he could kiss me. We stood there next to Dorothy and the most magical kiss I've ever experienced happened. I drove her home that night. It wouldn't be the last time I drove on post to hang out with Jonny.

The guys didn't have cars since they were still in training, so I'd go pick them up when we wanted to do stuff off post. Usually in Dorothy, sometimes in one of my parents cars if there were too many hanging out that night. We would pile in and head to whatever we were up to. I'll tell you what, a Mustang full of Marines sure shows it's weight, poor Dorothy would seem to jump up in relief once everyone climbed out!

That car was with me when I met my sweetie and she was our main transportation in the early days of our relationship. Maybe TMI, but chances are high that our beautiful daughter was created on the smooth cream leather of that pretty Mustang...

Months came and went and Dorothy and I drove down to North Carolina. She had a new friend, a nameless Toyota truck, but she was still my baby and my main mode of transportation. The truck was Jonny's.

Then Ariana came. The carseat barely fit in the back and I just wasn't comfortable with my precious cargo in the back of a 2 door car with a cloth top. As much as I loved my beautiful convertible, I loved my baby's safety more. Jonny and I talked of trading in the Mustang for a more family friendly car like a small SUV or crossover. Jonny said a new Camaro would be a nice surprise for him when he came home (trade my baby for a Camaro?! HA)! I started looking at different options but it was just so hard to part with that car, the truck now became my number one transport and was super handy with all the extra room (I wouldn't even dare try to fit a stroller in the Mustang...). I figured we'd figure out the second car situation when a second car was necessary.

Then Jonny died. There were so many memories in that Mustang, so many with him, how could I let it go? I could look at that car and remember different times we went out, different things we did. He loved that car, I retaught him how to drive stick in that car (he'd learned once before but was rusty so he relearned). We did sooo much in that car. If I let her go, even though I had really stopped using her, would I lose those memories too? She just sat, she'd get taken out every so often when it was just me doing something. The tires always needed air and more often than not she'd need a jump, but at least I could see her, at least she was there with her memories.

I had her shipped up to Maryland when we moved and she's sat. I think I've driven her maybe twice since we got here. So today, I did it. I finally parted with my car (ah, finally we've reached the point of this long story personifying a car!)

I sold my Dorothy today. The dealership was happy to take her. And guess what? The memories are still there! Nothing left with her, except the insurance to keep tags on and the space being taken up in the garage and the idea that maybe I'll drive the Mustang today.

It was a big step. I know it sounds stupid. It's just a car, it's just a material object. But I've said before, I hold on to these material objects like they might bring me a piece of him. The truth is, I don't have to feel the leather or hold the steering wheel to remember.  All I have to do is close my eyes and think. I feel almost as if a small weight has been lifted. Moving forward doesn't mean letting your loved one go, sometimes you have to let go of some things, but it doesn't mean you'll let go of the memories or the feelings.

And maybe now, she will provide her new owner as much joy and as many awesome memories as she did for us. Maybe she'll belong to another headed-to-college kid, or maybe someone going through a midlife crisis. Maybe a Mustang aficionado or someone who goes to the track. Maybe a mom who wants a "me" car or a 20s something guy who wants to pick up chicks. Who knows, I just hope they treat her right, she sure is a great car (haha gosh I sound like I got rid of a pet or something).

So Dodo, it was a great eight years. Thank you for being such a sweet ride!

For Lauren (I Love Widows)

Well, my dear friend was very sad that when she checked in here, nothing new has been posted. So, here I am after yet another hiatus. I have so much I want to talk about. I really want to talk about Memorial Day, but I need to figure out how to post something first, so my Memorial Day post will be even more delayed. I'll just say it was a nice one and I hope and think my hubby was proud.

So instead, I'll talk about widows. I love widows. They're basically my favorite kinda people.
Sometimes, that's because they just get it. They understand my life because they are me. They are me and I am them. We can be so different yet so alike that sometimes it may be hard to remember if a grief experience is your own or a friends'. I can read blogs and be astonished by the words another widow writes that I swear I could have just written (had I not been on hiatus - haha) or the comments from widows who are sure they wrote my post themselves.

I love widows for the sense of humor many of us share. The way we can embrace crappy situations through laughter. Sure, some of us may be a little more dark, crass and inappropriate than others (*hides face*) but widow humor is just something that makes our situation a little bit easier, a little bit more bearable and I am so thankful for other ladies who can embrace that.

I love widows for how they embrace life. So many of my friends who have lost their significant other just really jump into life head first. We know how short life is. We are faced with that terrible reality every day - that life can end in an instant. A surprising and completely shitty instant. So what do we do? Well, maybe we go a little insane, but we live. We find ways to feel alive. We travel, we see things, we meet people, we do extreme things (like flying airplanes or jumping out of them), we start organizations (I'm just sticking with the "we," no, I have not started an organization), we reach out to people, we appreciate those special people in our lives sometimes leading to neurosis (many widows I know have anxiety when being separated from their loved ones, it's not just me - I just call it extreme love heh), we tell people how we feel even if they might not like it, we honor our spouses and keep their memory alive so they will remain with us always.  Are these qualities the same for every widow? No. That's not what I'm saying. What I'm saying is the widows I've met, especially those I've become close with do many of those things, they just grab on to life and let it take them because it could all be over when we least expect it.  We've seen that - we get it. I don't want to be a generalizer and say all widows are awesome, but the ones I've met are indeed awesome, each in her (or his, I know one widower) own way, if in only the fact that they are living through the tragedy they were handed, they are awesome (although it is usually much, much more than that).

I love widows because they make me feel less alone. Although this is the one time where I can also say I hate widows, too. I hate that so many awesome ladies I've met have been handed this life. I hate that there are so many young, beautiful people who know all too well what heartbreak feels like, how death changes your entire life. My heart breaks when I meet new people who are widows. It's strange because I get excited, a new friend - yay! But my heart just breaks that there is one more person who has lost so much and hurts in a way that will never heal. It might mend but it won't heal. It's frustrating and confusing. But above all that, I love them! They make me feel normal, they make me feel sane, and just simply not alone.

So, for my widstas out there, I love you guys. You inspire me every day and many times you have helped me through the hardest spots of my life and encouraged me to go on. I am grateful for all of the times we've had together, for those who stopped in this weekend and visited (Holla Karie, Kelly and Lauren!), for those I've traveled with, cried with, laughed with, facebooked with. You guys are all the bomb, don't stop doin' what you do - don't stop livin'!

"I have known true love.I have known defeat.I have conquered defeat.I have endured.I have persevered.I am more than a widow.I am anINSPIRATION."-AWP

Never forget, my widow loves, you are an inspiration. W<3

It Gets Harder?

Well before getting into the nitty gritty of the post, I will first apologize for my serious MIA status. I've been doing a little bit of vacationing and thoroughly enjoying it. Went on a cruise with mom, dad, and A and then came home for a few weeks before heading to Florida with A to see Jonny's side of the family. In between all that I'm still working on getting my home set up, and I'm pretty sure I'll be in "moving-in" status for the rest of my life, or at least five years. Yikes! Our travels were good, the cruise was a lot of fun and A loved seeing the water every where. Our trip to Florida was outstanding, and I think it was also much needed. It was great to be with his family which is also my family, reminisce, hang out, and really just keep getting to know each other. We had a blast and I am looking forward to our next trip there.

I say it was a needed trip because I just needed some more of him and his family is as him as it gets (thank God I have a little piece of him hanging out with me everyday). I haven't been doing well. Grief isn't just a nice and neat little agenda you can follow. The pathway of grief or whatever it's called? Yea, complete bullshit. It just doesn't work that way. The stages, sure they may be there. The anger, the depression, the bargaining, all of that. Yup, it's there. But it doesn't come as it's "expected" one neatly following the other and never returning when it's done. Each little "stage" springs up when it feels like and you have to deal with it when it presents itself, even if you've dealt with it before. And oftentimes, it's not alone, in fact 9 out of 10 times it's accompanying another little stage of grief, tag teaming on the ass kicking. Grief is just not fun. I'm saying grief a lot, because it finally actually feels like grieving.

For the last two years, well, let's face it. I've been running. Maybe if I ran fast enough, I occupied myself enough, I hid, well maybe then there would be no grief. If I moved fast enough, got away from it, maybe just maybe I would wake up from it. The problem is, however, there's nothing to wake up from. This is real life and well, frankly, it sucks. No life doesn't suck, just the circumstances, the grief. That sucks.  A lot.

This March, April, and May have just been wooping me. I just want him here. I don't want to be a widow anymore. I just want to be a regular wife, with my husband who I love, having regular married people dilemmas. I called my mom a few weeks ago after I'd walked through my office where Jonny's urn (the box) is proudly displayed. I had stopped and stared at that urn and was like "What is that?" in my head... "what is it doing here" I called my mom and said that I am ready to wake up from the nightmare now. But like I said, and she said, it's the crappy reality.

I know, I'm rambling. It's been a while, alright? I guess where I'm going is I didn't expect it to get harder. I didn't expect it to get easier, either, I just figured it would... I don't know... I didn't know what to expect. I miss him more than ever. It's been too long. I want to feel his warmth around me, talk to him, just have him here. I'm sad, I'm angry, and I'm not feeling like accepting it.

I know, you've all read this before. I'm certainly not looking for pity, it's just so good to get it out. The written words seem to help me make sense of it all. I've just been in so much pain. I'm not numb and I'm not running and I'm just here and hurting.

But. I will survive. I always do.
Pump up the Gloria Gaynor for a little motivation.

Grievances of Dating

I guess I'll start this post out by saying that Z and I decided to split. After a year together, it was time to take a break from one another to really evaluate what we each want out of life. I'm obviously not going too far into it because it's a personal matter but I will say we remain friends and he was a very important part of my life for a year and I will never forget the time we shared even though I've decided we should go our separate ways.

Our split happened about a month or so ago and I decided I really want to see what is out there in the world. Or better yet - who. I never really dated like an adult. You know, went on dates, that sort of thing. I had a long term boyfriend from high school to college, then Jonny and I met shortly after I graduated college and fell in love - it was so easy for us, I was and am so lucky - and then got married.  I tried dating for a while (a little known fact that I don't discuss because I don't really like hearing people's opinions on my personal life) and then I met Z and settled in with him for a year. I know I'm getting pretty personal and I know I'm going to get all kinds of comments on this and I'll just put it out right now mean/hurtful ones will not be tolerated, they will be deleted and you'll be wasting your time and energy typing it out.

So anyway, I've decided I want to try to date. Not to get serious, not to get the booty from every guy in town (I'm actually on a strictly no-booty-for-a-long-while program, if you need to know) but to date. If anything, make some new friends. Since I don't really have many single friends anymore, I did what more people than you think might do, and I joined Match.

Here's where the grievance sets in. So on match, you can put what you're looking for. You fill out an "ideal match" section so to speak. Then every day, you're sent profiles of people you might get along with. So I check them out, see if anyone sparks an interest and go from there. One of the first things I look at is what they're looking for. Specifically the part where it says about kids and relationship status.

The issue I'm having is these guys will check off "never married, divorced, separated" etc. etc. They'll check off every box but widowed. Basically saying, I'm willing to date any kind of person, even one not even all the way broken up, as long as they aren't widowed. Honestly, it kind of gets to me.

Being a widowed person is challenging, oh hell yes it is, and being friends with a widowed person, even more being in a relationship with one, I'm sure is beyond strenuous. You can ask Z, it ain't no walk in the park. But to be completely closed off to dating a widowed person? Well, you might just be missing the best thing you could ever get.

I get it. "Baggage" is a word that comes to mind. For me though, I'm not going to hide my widowed-ness. I won't change it to "divorced" because I'm not. I still love my husband with all my heart, but I'm open to loving someone new, as well. I'm not even looking to love someone new right now to be honest, just to see what is out there, but the idea of loving someone again is not something that I am opposed to (obviously, because I was in a just-shy-of-a-year long relationship). Do I have my "baggage"? Well, I suppose you could call it that. I've got a husband that I love dearly who is no longer with me and a daughter that he created with me who I love with all my heart. In my mind, that's not baggage - but I know to others it may be. But I also have a husband who wanted, above all things, to see me happy, and I know that even though he is not with me, that is still his wish for me. I won't settle for less than happiness.

There's a stigma that widows don't or shouldn't date. To me that's complete hogwash. Why do we deserve less than others? Why should we have to be alone? Why don't we deserve to share our lives with someone? It is perfectly possible and acceptable to love someone new while still loving and honoring your spouse in Heaven. Is it awkward? Yup, it's awkward for both the dating persons and the friends of them. I know that friends of my husband have felt weird about me dating, but it's not their life. That's the long and short of it. It's my life and I know I deserve happiness. I want someone to share my life with, to share joy and sorrow with, to share responsibilities with, the whole nine; and it is not fair for someone who has never walked in these shoes to tell me that looking for someone to love (or even just spend time with) is wrong. It's also not fair that anyone would be opposed to meeting me because I'm widowed. Do you have to love me and spend your life with me? Nope, if it turns into something you can't handle or you don't want to handle, that's fine. But to be completely opposed to the idea? Ouch. I'm still a woman. I'm still hilarious (or at least, I think so). I still like having fun. Do I have bad days? Oh definitely. Do I miss my husband every single stinkin' day? Yup. Do I still incorporate him in my daughter and my life? You betcha! But I'm still just a person! A person who's been through a lot, sure, but a person who is funny and life loving and moderately attractive, too!

So there. There are my grievances on dating. I'm going to repeat this because I know you little anonymous turds out there - mean/hurtful will not be tolerated. I deserve happiness, and if you think I don't, your words are meaningless. I hope this might help a fellow widowed person out there who may want to pursue dating or is dating and dealing with the obstacles of widowed dating. Besides everyone having some sort of input on what we're doing, dating as a widow is a challenge. It's really putting yourself out there. There are about 243180571 emotions involved in it and it is certainly not easy. To my widowed friends - do what makes you happy. To my non-widowed friends, please don't judge when you have no idea what it is like in these shoes. And to the singles out there and looking, don't write us off because we're widowed, I know so many awesome widows out there you are going to be sadly missing! Life is about taking chances. Take the chance to put yourself out there, take a chance on something new, take a chance to hear a person's story before making a judgement.

As an addendum: Being more focused on what I'm doing with my own life, I forgot to add this in until just now (scatterbrained, what can I say?). There are also widows who choose not to date. Young and old alike. That's cool, too. If you are in a position where you don't want to date, then don't date. There are people who have their opinions on that as well (You're young, you'll find love again. What haven't you started dating your husband's been gone xxx years, etc. etc.) If you're happy not dating then be happy. And if your widowed friend is happy not dating, leave her (or him) alone. I spoke about dating because that's where I am in my life and the issues I'm facing, but there are others who choose the opposite and still face issues of opinions and judgers. The choice to date or not date is a personal one that can only be decided by the person. In the end the only answer is to be true to yourself and do what brings you happiness.