The Big 5

Well hello, friend.  It's been a long time since we've connected in this format  -  like almost 14 months long time.  And well here I am again, unsure of how I got here, but knowing I did and still with the big wonder of a 3 year old, "what is this?"

This my friend, is life.  Tuesday, 2/7/17 - I celebrated (odd choice of words - I know) - the 5 year anniversary of my husband's death.  Five, yes 5, 5, 5, years.  Saying it out loud, typing it, thinking it... I'm unsure how 5 years has passed.  I think we all are unsure how this linear thing we call time moves so quickly and it isn't until we look backwards that we realize the enormity of all that has come before.

We still move through each day, growing, evolving, and living - sometimes with ease and grace and others like a seizure taking root in our very being.  I still miss my husband. I often dive into our memories and take my girls with me.  And in the same moment, can't imagine what it would be like if he was still here.  So much has changed.  I have changed...

I wonder at times if he would be proud of how I mother and of the woman I've continued to become.  Yes, become, because we are always becoming - we are never done, never static, never without evolution.  The evolution isn't always fast or fated and often leaves something unrecognizable in its wake. 

And enter Bridgette...  Yep - Bridgette.  This past summer, I changed my name back to my birth name.  Changed the whole damn thing - first, middle and last.  I've had many questions as to why I changed it - what was the purpose? What was wrong with the name Amy?  Well nothing and everything.  I couldn't relate to her anymore - it felt like Amy had served me and served me with honor.  She was a survivor of so many injustices - so many cruelties the world had to offer.  First in line to keep me, the soft, surrendered, secret side of me, safe.  

You see my story didn't just begin when I lost my husband.  That was when my story became more public.  It was likely that moment when my ability to keep the pain inside from seeping out also ceased to exist.  The prolific straw that broke the camel's back.  You see my story has always been playing out, word by word, page by page, chapter by chapter - just like yours.   Yet, the published story was fiction in so many hard and hurtful ways.

Oh and isn't it easy to say swiftly and without mercy - that was completely up to me.  It was my choice.  Yes, it was....because I knew how the world expected me to show up.  I am an excellent student, quick study and a perfectionist.   So I learned to dance in the ways I was requested, certain this would be easier.  Easier for me, easier for family, easier for friends, easier for the greater good of all.  Because if we all buy our ticket to the dance, don't we all become dancers?

It turns out, I'm not a good dancer.   I completely and 100% suck at most types of dancing.  However, when I let the music take over and allow my body and soul to simply respond to the vibration and sensation, release my mind of its teachings...  there I am, a dancer.  There I am, Bridgette Marie Singer.

So how do you show up?  Is it in truth or fallacy?  Fiction or non-fiction?  Judgement or acceptance? 

And here's to new beginnings each and every day and a big welcome to myself, for dancing now - just for me, just for this moment, just as I am.

Where's my dad?

   It is a bit like a confessional - realizing I haven't written for about a year and half.  I've had moments where I thought about it and for one reason or another didn't follow through.  This morning has rocked me again - and like the magic that is life, I didn't see it coming.  

   As is our routine every morning, I took Lissy to preschool.  Once at school, we always go potty as sometimes her body doesn't keep up with her mind.  She is literally on the toilet and looks up at me with those big blue eyes and asks, "Where is my dad?"  I was so startled and tears went instantly to my eyes, I repeated the question back to her.  She simply said, "Yes."  I told her that he was in heaven. She asked, "why?"  I responded, "Because heaven needed an angel baby."  

   And then I lost it.  Lost my shit like I haven't done in quite some time.  Sitting her now, still cannot quite get it together.  I was so unprepared and as a close friend in NY said to me, "You knew she was a sharp one and clearly ready for this."  But I'M NOT READY!    Realizing even using the word but attempts to negate what comes before and still it is.  My baby that is now a spirited and challenging and loving and wickedly smart little girl was ready to talk about her daddy.

   Here's the thing, it isn't like we didn't talk about her daddy.  We look at pictures, I share stories, we spend time with family.  She calls out "that's my daddy" now when she sees his picture. He is very much alive in our lives, especially in this little girl that would have stolen her daddy's heart in a millisecond.   

   So as I sit in my sadness and longing and heart break, I realize we are doing ok.  My baby asked a question and I answered it honestly.  I shared with her my heart was hurting because I miss daddy.  And in true 3 year old form, she moved on to washing her hands and laughing at the snowman soap bubbles she created. 

   That's the key, I am being reminded of again as I've lost my way a bit.  What matters is the people, the time, the love.  What matters is this very moment, this moment in history that will never be experienced again.  The rest are distractions and illusions.  None of us know how much time we have on this playground called earth.  We spend so much time supporting or being controlled by our ego, that we miss out on the good stuff, the juicy stuff.  The things that break our hearts open in new and profound ways in hopes that we can leave it open and vulnerable and stay connected to the parts of ourselves that see the grace and good in and everything around us, including ourselves.   

  So, as I move into the final days before for my 3rd Christmas as the unwanted widow, I am again in awe of how blessed I am.  So grateful for my family both near and far, work I love, solid friendships and my ability to surrender again to this journey of life.  I am not teaching life, life is teaching me.  

  Merry Christmas...

6.14.13

Today as most days filled with emotion - took me by surprise.  After a long road - the lawsuit is over.  Feels anti-climactic and incredibly depressing at the same time.  When I got the email from my attorney,  tears filled my eyes and some odd cry escaped my mouth.  Soon followed by a conversation with Robert, feeling as if he was slipping further away.

That sounds crazy and I'm laughing and crying as I type it.  How can someone who is no longer physically here slip further away?  I'm realizing life is not meant for sissy's.  At least a life that has been lived, often even when you don't want to live it.

So now, I can close the estate file, sell Robert's car, remove his name from our joint checking account....  see slipping further away.  As much pain as it brings seeing Robert's car parked in the garage and his name above mine on the checks I rarely use, it is still a way that our physical lives are intertwined.

When there isn't much to reach for you, you reach for anything.

Please know, that I know - physicality is but one dimension.  I do believe and know Robert is still with me, with his family and loving his baby girl.  And I am blessed for so many reasons in this life, even with losing Robert when I wasn't ready that complaining or throwing a solo pity-party seems un-grateful for all the good and all the joy that surrounds me.

Losing Robert has pushed me to live a different life.  A brilliant analogy I heard one time, is you think you have the story of your life written and bound in front of you.  The pages glossy, full and predictable.  Then when you least expect it, a few paragraphs, pages or shit even whole chapters are casually torn out, cast aside, floating away in the breeze.  And you are left with a gap, a hole, a big empty void.  Now not only does the beginning of the story not match the end, the end is no longer.  So we write and re-write until the new story of our life emerges with every new day, week, month and year, as if this was how it was always meant to be.  It doesn't mean however, that you never look back, double checking - to see if the missing pieces have miraculously reappeared.

I'm exhausted, relieved and sad.  Yet still I will continue to write and re-write these new parts of the story of my life.  I know two things for sure, my life story thus far has not been one I would have anticipated and I'm certain going forward, the same magic and mystery that flows through us all, will continue to surprise me, challenge me and allow me the luxury to truly live.

Today is the day...

I'm so naive.  I seriously believed in my heart of hearts, that I could simply treat today like any other day without my husband.  I mean I've managed 364 other ones, right?   And well,  I did pull it off for a while.  I even had myself convinced that today wasn't "the day."  A few friends posted on FB and I thought, "gosh, they don't know it isn't today."  Aren't our brains amazing?  Mine protected me as long as it could until I was ready and able to sit, process, reflect and again, again, again...move forward - after of course losing it.  Snot streaming, eyes burning, heaving chest.... losing it.

I've found in a short window of time tonight, I've managed to run through all the fabulous stages of grief, that everyone feels they should talk to you about when you lose someone close.  As if knowing the stages exist, will make experiencing them easier, less profound, less significant.  Like I am supposed to be able to take a step back and get perspective.  I should be able to tell myself that what I'm feeling is normal and anyone in my situation would react the same and everyone understands.  Dumb dumbs...

No one understands.  Ok that's not true, nor is it fair - in unique and varying ways everyone that has lost someone they were truly close to, has some notion.  They have their own perspectives and perceptions of loss.  Their relationships were uniquely their own and one that is not identical anywhere else in the world.  For this reason - I count myself incredibly lucky.

I loved my husband.  No, I didn't just love him, I adored him.  From the very first moment...I knew I was meant to be with him. Never before has anyone ever captured my heart and soul in the way that Robert did.  I had no doubt that my whole life had been preparing me for this moment.  I felt like all the pain and suffering had not been in vain.   I saw the pain instead as a teacher, guiding me, pushing me, growing me, so that my own awareness would be so heightened - I wouldn't miss that something magical was happening.

And I did know.

And I never took it for granted.

And I still don't take it for granted.  I was lucky and blessed to have been able to call him my husband.  I hope that those of you that saw us together, read about our lives on FB, or heard me talk about him - could see what pure magic, came from our relationship.  And my loving husband, even now is holding my hand and proving that this world, my world is still magical.

Now he is the teacher and I am learning.  I am evolving. I am ever changing and forever changed.  This man that brought such joy and love into my life, is showing me that my life can still be filled with joy and love.  He is showing me the way.  He has not left my side, physically - yes, but he is with me.  This I know for sure.

So as today marks the 365th day, the one year anniversary - it marks the last of my firsts as the unwanted widow.  As much as a relief this is to have one of everything under my belt, it also means time is moving forward and like it or not, I'm moving with it.

I'm still not sure what will come of this unwanted widow during the next 365 days and beyond...and yet I know inherently that I will be ok.  I will be happy.  I am oh so blessed to share a love that continues on in ways I never imagined.  I am the mother to two beautiful little souls that have been placed in my hands and I know I am privileged to be their mommy.  I have amazing friends that regardless of my ask - show up time and time again.  And my ever present English family that shows me all to often, that Robert's loves are their loves - no questions asked.

In a few hours, I will slowly, gently close the door on the unwanted widow, the first 365 days.

And I will fling open the new door and new doors coming my way with laughter, love and light in my heart...

So, see you later unwanted widow....
     it's been quite the journey...

Closing things out...

Every day this year has been a milestone approaching the 365th day marking the one year anniversary of losing my husband.  Some have been easy, some not so easy and some down right miserable.  January and February bring about our anniversary, my birthday, the day I lost Robert, Valentine's Day (stupid ass holiday) and Robert's birthday.  Seems I've been preparing all year with baby steps for these 2 months.

There is no rhyme or reason to grieving and I do believe everyone has their own process, their own method of madness.  Because really it is madness.  Madness = dealing = hopefully coping = hopefully embracing something new...  So that's the real deal then right - starting anew.  Starting anew by default means you have to finish something.

I've thought a lot lately about finalizing and finishing the things I've been avoiding.  In many cases, ok in most cases, these things are insignificant....  If you want to know how unimportant clothes, a car, your last Christmas gift, your job, your facebook account, etc., IS - just ask someone that has been left behind to handle the tasks of finalizing the details.

So what's left for me...closing out a FB account, closing a credit card, cleaning the home office (lord this room is like a black hole to me - I enter it and lose all sense of time and space), selling a car, packing the toiletries that I couldn't bear to do 10 months ago and still want to vomit thinking about it and finally complete the closing of Robert's estate.

These things should be relatively easy to do but...

~there is something about having the FB account open that maybe this is still really one big joke gone wrong and he will send me a message.
~If I leave his credit card open - he might be able to get back to me.
~If I leave his office as is, he can return in his ugly fleece sweatpants, t-shirt and bed-head (yes he really did work from home like this).
~If I sell his car - how will I know when I pull into the garage if he is home?
~If I pack up his toiletries, I will smell him, see him standing next me in our bathroom with toothpaste running down his arm and onto his shirt - and I'm scolding him telling him it has bleach in it and I won't be able to get the bleach out of his shirt - and he smiles and calls me the laundry fairy.

And yes, closing the estate - means all things related to Robert in an official way are done.  It is putting the last nail in the coffin.

And it hurts.

Yes, I will take care of these things because it turns out when you hang onto them too long, they begin to suffocate you.  Little by little, you feel them closing in until the desire to finish becomes more than the pain to hold off.  Because the emotional game of pretending things could be different, is damaging.  It is brutal and there are no winners.

So here's to the next 2 months that will again test me.  Provide me opportunity to grow, evolve and change.  My hand has been forced and I will succumb.  May I have the ability to do so with grace, gratitude and the over whelming new reality of what really matters. This is the purest way that I can honor my husband, my children, my family and friends.

Leaving behind 2012...

Can't believe it is the last day of 2012.  I realize I feel this way every time another year has passed and I'm not quite sure where the time went.  This year, as one can imagine, was life altering.  Hell who am I kidding, it was all consuming, mind blowing, painful, joyful insanity.

There is a part of me (lord here come the tears) that wants to go running into 2013 and leave behind 2012 with such intense need that my muscles ache.  And yet leaving behind 2012 in some ways means leaving behind my love.  2012 was the year I lost my husband.  It was the year I became a widow.  It was the year I graduated and finally claimed my bachelors degree.  I spent time in England and introduced Addy to its beauty.  2012 granted me a month long stay in the hospital waiting for Miss F to arrive in the mist of a massive home remodel.  It brought me my beautiful, perfect Lissy.  It created a new family with lots of estrogen and a glorious extended family that I am thankful for daily.  2012 showed me the strong and dedicated friends I have in my life that stepped up and stepped in - taking care of me when I couldn't and walking beside me when I could.

But 2012 made me a widow.  Just sticks in the back of my throat.  Filling out paperwork marking "widow" as my marital status.  Let me assure you that sucks in case you were unsure.  I truly thought in meeting Robert and finally feeling like I was home, my life was secure, safe, protected.  The truth is none of us are those things.  We are all since our birth waiting to go back home - whatever/wherever you believe that to be.

I've learned this year to live without Robert physically here with me.  People have often said to me, "this will get easier with time" or the fabulous (heavy sarcasm) "time heals all things."  I would politely disagree.  Dumb-dumbs...  It doesn't get easier.  You simply learn to live differently.  You develop a new normal, a new routine, a new way of living.  It doesn't stop the longing for what was and what can never be again.

And things have to change. For me things had to change.  Well really, I didn't get to control the change did I?  It was thrust upon me without any thought or consideration about what I might want or need.  So I chose to change, to attempt to adapt.  Isn't that evolution in the making?  The strongest survive, they adapt, create features that allow them to survive the new terrain, the new environment.  Adapt, adapt, adapt... adapt or die.

So, I adapt...sloppily, clumsily, two steps forward, three steps backwards....but lord help me I did adapt.  And I have learned that I am stronger than I thought I was.  I am capable of more than I ever imagine.  I live in the now, in the moment because I am living proof that nothing is guaranteed, nothing is forever - at least in this physical world.  I have changed my belief system, no that's not true, I have found one.  I discovered I am a spiritual being. I am thankful.  I am grateful. I am honest.  I work really hard at taking nothing for granted anymore.

I am true and I love... all of this, in the year I became a widow and had my heart broken in a million little pieces.

So as I move into 2013 with the wisdom of 327 days as a widow - I won't be making any grand resolutions or big promises I know I won't keep.  Instead I will continue to put one foot in front of the other, thankful that I am here to do so.

And to my darling Robert, thank you for setting such a shining example of what a husband, son, brother, father, uncle, cousin and friend should be.  Thank you for our little Lissy - what a joy she is to us all.  Lastly, thank you for loving me without reservations and for the first time showing me that I am worthy and enough.

So long 2012...
Welcome 2013...
~A

Incomplete

Tonight should be a night when I am celebrating with my husband.  We are giggling and being silly until he looks at me in all seriousness and will tell me would say about me.  It was always as if he was talking about someone else, someone I didn't know.  Robert had started to give me the gift of believing in myself.  I'm sure this comes as wallop of a surprise for many as yes, I come across as having it all together.  I'm strong, remember?

Tonight I feel weak, defeated and so painfully lost that everything seems foreign and hazy.  The life, my life, the goals, the dreams that I had seem silly in some ways now.  I suppose it isn't enough to do things just for me.  It is important to have someone by your side to celebrate with you, along side you.  Robert was my biggest cheerleader.  I will never know what he saw in me but I hope that maybe someday I might be who he thought I was.

So, what's the big deal?  I turned in my last 50 page portfolio tonight and in a weeks time I will officially have my bachelors degree.   This was a hard road for the last two years, particularly the last 2 quarters since losing Robert.  So I'm done, no fanfare, no fireworks, no giggling, no kind words from the man I adored.  Just the closing of the laptop, finishing laundry, feeding the cats and then the not so surprising fury of sobs that racked my body and left me gasping for breath sitting on the bathroom floor.

Sometimes I get angry at myself.  Pull it together.  What the hell is wrong with you?  Lord too many things to write down tonight.  I really wish that someone, anyone, could tell me what God's big plan is?  Everything happens for a reason right?  I will look back at this someday and be able to see the lesson and know I was strong enough to have lived through it.  Oh there are lessons, but I hardly need them and I sure as hell don't want them.

I want my husband.  I want to feel like I matter.  I want to know that someone has my back and will drop everything to make sure I'm ok.  I don't want to be the grown up I have to be that bears all the responsibilities and plays nice when all I want to do is lash out.

Realizing I shouldn't be too surprised of where I am at emotionally....school was a distraction, albeit a painful one.  Now the noise has stopped and I am left with the silence.  I know you need silence and calm to process and grow, but did I have to have it now?  This diploma will forever be a reminder of where I was emotionally and learning to deal with the loss of Robert.  There is no joy here just relief I am done and an intense void swirling all around me.

Where do I go from here?