Taking a Moment ......

...... amidst the joy, the laughs, the tears (feeling very teary this morning), the friendships - new and old, the chaos and the wonderfulness that is Camp Widow ...... to write a bit.

I'm sitting on a comfortable sofa watching the women and men around me interact, laugh, and have all kinds of discussions.  In the last 15 minutes I've heard snippets of conversations centered around how to tell if your toddler is having developmental problems, meditation, awesome trips to India, what to expect when the "flash mob dance" occurs later this afternoon, and "Damnit Dolls".

So as not to leave you hanging, these are the Damnit Dolls:

A friend sells them and yes, I have one.  The purpose of the doll is to help you vent your frustration.  It's a very sturdy, stuffed doll that you hit against the wall or something solid, while you say, "Damnit, dammit, dammit!!".
You'd be surprised at how extremely satisfying that can be.
Not that I'd ever say that while I used it.
A-hem.

It's been a great Camp in just the one day we've had.  Since it's the 5th anniversary of Soaring Spirits many of the people who haven't attended in the last year or so have come to this one.  It's been like "old home week".  I love seeing their faces and sharing those long, hard hugs.
Love.
It.

Yesterday the mayor of San Diego signed a declaration making July 28th 2013 "Camp Widow Day".  He was to come to our reception last night and give us the framed declaration himself.  Those of us who either live near here or have been watching the local news here over the past week or so (like me) were guessing what the odds were that he'd show.
I thought they were extremely low.
Too bad I couldn't put money on that because he didn't show.
Some guy from his security team came (late) to tell us.  We made him take the place of the mayor and speak to the crowd, awarding us the declaration.
Poor guy.
He even had to take a photo with us.
Maybe he'll be elected next time instead of his boss.

One would think that if one's public office job wasn't going so well at the moment, one might consider a photo op with 250 or so widowed people to be a pretty good thing to do.
One might also think that standing up a crowd of 250 or so widowed people is definitely not a good idea.
One might want to be looking for a new job, doncha think?
: )

This morning we had our key note address and we had a big surprise for the group.  Someone had decided to contact the White House about Camp, and about the declaration.  Less than 5 days after she sent an email we received a letter.
A personal letter.
From Vice President Joe Biden.
Who is himself a widower.

It was very thoughtful.
And brought tears to my eyes.
There are way too many of us, and that never ceases to make me sad.
Our ranks grow every day.
Unfortunately.

There are people walking around today, enjoying life and their relationships ...... and have no idea that in the next day or so they, too, will join this club.
That really sucks.

Anyway, this is always a happy/sad/joyful/tearful weekend.
It's a balance for me ...... and finely tuning that balance each time.
That's getting easier with each camp, thankfully, and with time.
This is never a weekend I dread, but one I look forward to tremendously.

It's a weekend where all of our hard work helps other men and women to feel normal ...... some for the first time since their loved one died.
And trust me, when you're widowed you long to feel normal.
Even if it's only for a weekend.

Happy Saturday, Peeps.
: )

Camp Widow East ......

...... was amazing.
As always, but even more so.  I think it gets better every time.

Better and yet ...... sometimes more difficult.

It's so difficult to look into the eyes of someone who's been recently widowed.  We had several people who were only 3 months out.
And quite a few young women who became widowed while they were pregnant.
T.A.N.W.

There is never a shortage of widowed people.  Our ranks keep growing.
No matter how much we hate it and wish they wouldn't.
But at least we at Soaring Spirits are getting the word out:
You are not alone.

The eyes of the recently widowed are exactly how I remember mine looked.  How mine still look in my "after" photos:  empty, lifeless ...... dark.
And so very sad.

But it's interesting.  Their eyes look that way on Friday morning.
Their posture looks what way, too.
But by Sunday morning, only 48 hours later, things are different.  Most of them have a small spark in their eyes.  Not the same spark they had "before", to be sure, but a spark none the less.
And a small spark can grow and grow, over time, until it lights up the entire face.
And body.

Most of them wouldn't believe that.
But then most of them wouldn't have believed they'd feel differently on Sunday than they did on Friday.

And most of them wouldn't have believed how much fun they'd have Saturday night ...... dancing.  And taking goofy pictures in a photo booth.

This is the dress I wore this year:

I love this dress (and the red 4" heels that I had on!).  And not because it had no zipper and I could just pull it on over my head.  Which, I have to say, was a huge positive.
And not because it was sheer at the arms and below my thighs.  But I did love that I could show a little skin, without really showing skin.
I would never have guessed that I'd like that ...... 5 years ago.
Never.

The reason I loved this dress so much is ...... I found it at H&M.
Really.
For under $100.
No, I'm not kidding.
I know!

After Helen Hunt wore an H&M dress to the Oscars ...... I knew that anything was possible.
And that I had to go there and look at their formal dresses ...... dresses I didn't even know they sold.
Before seeing Helen ...... and loving her for being more like "the rest of us".

Here is my picture right before I turned in for the night/morning.  We used glo sticks again this year to light our way to the beach.
I was a beacon of leadership.
Ha!

Here are the pictures from the beach later that night.  It was pretty chilly so the hotel provided towels for us to wrap up in, which explains why we all look like we have blue blankets on.

This moved me ...... they wrote the names of their loved ones in the sand.  And it certainly felt like they were right there, with us.

It was a great weekend.
Not for every single person.
Grief is hard.
And sometimes it drags you so far down that you can't breathe.
Or be around anyone.
Or want to believe that you'll feel better some day.

Even though you will.
In time.

The thing I love most about Camp?
Seeing people returning.
And the spark in their eyes that's bigger than it was the year before.

Camp Widow West is only 2 months away.
And though I know there will be some difficult moments ......
...... I can hardly wait.
:)

Happy Friday, Peeps.
:)

My Weekend ......

...... through the eyes and words of someone else.  Someone newer to the "club".  And someone new to Camp Widow.
This post was written by Kelley Lynn, and I am proud and yet humbled to call her my friend.  She has a beautiful heart (and a beyond-witty sense of humor, which kind of makes us twins, except I was born first) and she's writes beautifully.  Hopefully she won't mind me posting her words here.  She wrote them on her blog, which you can find here.

Enjoy.  You really will.

Hope Comes Alive at “Camp Widow"

Two women are standing alongside the ocean in front of the Marriott Resort in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. They are lingering behind about a hundred or so other widowed people who have started to go back inside – women, men, married, unmarried, engaged, same-sex partners, old, young, international. People of all kinds, from all over, with one very harsh thing in common: the person they intended to spend the rest of their life with is gone. They died. 

It is a little after midnight on Saturday, April 20th, and we have just finished a ceremonial “ocean letter release”, where we wrote love notes to our partners, attached them to ribbon and hearts (all biodegredable), and tossed them out to sea. Most have left the beach area by now, but some of us can’t just yet, because the moment is too big and too powerful, and we still aren’t done talking to our husbands. We never will be.

“ORBS” appeared in this cool shot of our ocean-letter-release on the beach

One of these two women happens to be me, and this other woman, maybe about 5 or 10 years older than myself, comes walking up to me with tears in her eyes, and a few glasses of wine in her stomach. It is pitch black outside, and only the stars and the waves washing up on shore act as our light to see one another. “I don’t know who the hell you are, and I don’t really care”, she says to me matter-of-factly. Then she gives me a hug and starts to cry. We stand there together, arm in arm, looking out at the water. There are no other words. No explanations of any kind. There is no need for any of that. Because I already understand. In fact, everyone here understands. Welcome to Camp Widow.

New friends …

Just 21 months ago, in the life where my husband was alive and well and we were happily, joyfully married; I knew nothing of such a place, nor did I care to hear of such a place, quite frankly. But when you wake up in a new world one morning where a freight train dressed up as a massive heart-attack decides to kill your husband for no damn reason, what becomes important to you quickly changes. Writing and comedy have always been coping mechanisms and saviors for me, so I wrote and I wrote and I wrote, and then I wrote some more. I created this blog and started furiously typing out all of the ugly, painful, horrific, and often hilarious truths about what it’s like to lose your husband and the life you knew.

And then, a few months ago, an angel on earth disguised as a woman named Michele Neff Hernandez, found my blog and contacted me. She told me she runs an organization that connects widowed people worldwide, called Soaring Spirits. (www.sslf.org) Through that organization, she also founded and runs this amazing annual event called Camp Widow.She wondered if I would like to be one of the 7 featured writers for their website’s blog called Widow’s Voice, and she invited me to deliver a 75-minute comedy Workshop / Performance on grief and loss, at Camp Widow. Never in a million years did I imagine that saying yes to both of these wild ideas would have such an impact on my life. But then again, who ever imagined I would be widowed at age 39?

Me and Michele …

In a lot of ways, it is almost impossible to describe something like Camp Widow in writing. I could go into all the specifics about workshops and other people’s personal stories of loss and all of that, but I wouldnt ever be able to capture the feeling or the tone or the magic of what went on there, inside this blogpiece. It is one of those things in life that is simply an “experience”, and you really need to be there to understand the impact and the power of its existance. However, if you are a widowed person and you are reading this right now, try to picture the following:

Try to picture a place where complete strangers give you a hug or a smile or a comforting look, because they know where you’ve been, and they’ve walked where you’ve walked. A place that holds a formal and elegant Banquet Dinner Reception for it’s “campers”, and where the D.J. is specifically ordered not to play any slow songs the entire night – ever. A place where you can dance freely and openly and have fun, without worrying about how you look to others, or whether people will think that you must be “over it” or “getting better”, simply because you are out and you have dared to laugh or feel joy again. A place where every single person around you understands how you can go from exhausted to angry to elation – all in the course of one hour. A place where you meet men and women whom you have been talking with for weeks or months or years online, and when you see them in person, you feel that instant connection, that bond that brings you closer. A place where they hand out kleenex before Workshops and Seminars, and where people don’t look the other way or act all awkward when you bust out crying or when you mention your loved ones name. A place where you are no longer the misfit, because everyone is the misfit. Everyone is Rudolph, and you all get to hang out on The Island of Misfit Toys. Throw in 2 full days of wonderful speakers, presenters, Workshops, and Round-Table discussions (like a support-group, but with specified topics such as Sudden Death, Widowed Without Kids, Long-Term Illness, Finances and many other subjects), all held at a gorgeous beachfront Marriott hotel with cockail parties and social events put together just for us; and you’ve got yourself a truly unique, once-in-a-lifetime experience.

at the formal banquet with new friend Diane, who drove us to South Carolina

None of this would even exist without that Angel I mentioned before – the one named Michele who is walking around earth in a human costume. When her husband Phil went out for his evening bike ride on August 31, 2005, and was hit by a Suburban, her entire world flipped upside down in seconds. Left with their 3 children and a planned future stolen away by death, Michele used her pain and her struggle and her grief to help other people all over the world who were going through something just as lonely and isolating and frightening. She took something that is terrifying on every level, and with it, she created this place of hope and dreams and inspiration. She didn’t have to do that. She didn’t have to do a damn thing, if you really think about it. To me, the very idea that she didnt drown or hide inside of her grief, but chose to reach out with it in the most expanding way possible, while still raising a family alone, makes this woman one of the most heroic people I have ever met. 

Michele with Raffle Winner / camper at Banquet

 At Camp Widow, Michele delivers a Key Note Address to all the campers who traveled from all over the country, and the world, to be at this exciting event. In her speech this past weekend, she quoted from the beautiful poem A Summer Day by Mary Oliver, in asking us all this incredible question:

“Tell me – what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

It is a loaded question, especially when you are grieving the loss of your life-partner, and just trying to regain your footing. And when a non-widowed person tries to deliver me words of inspiration such as this, or tells me how strong I am, or some other cliche or cheesy thing – it just sounds like pointless words. Like the teacher’s voice from all the Charlie Brown specials, where you just heard that noise coming from the phone or loud-speaker: Waah waah wah wah waaa….

Walking the beach …

It is not that I dont appreciate friends and family trying to encourage me or believing in me. I do. I really do. However, when someone who hasn’t been through this stands there and tells you that things will get better or that you will be okay or that you will have joy again, it is very tough to believe them. Because truthfully – they just dont know. They havent walked through the fire, so how can they say how much it burns and when it will stop? They havent felt the torture of nails being pounded into their flesh over and over again, so how can they end the bleeding? They haven’t sat all curled up in their beds, with recurring visions of that horrible, traumatic day – flashing before them on an endless loop, asking themselves why they should bother to get up today and continue on with existing, so how can they possibly know about what it means to lose hope, and how scary and awful that feels?

But this woman. This Angel. This woman with the warm and inviting voice - this woman who said a casual goodbye to her husband and then never saw him again - this woman who somehow found the way to rebuild her life – this woman who created and invented a place for people like me to go, where we can feel wanted and loved and not ashamed or shunned by society or forgotten about, even if only for a weekend – this woman who embodies everything good and everything real – when this woman stands up on a stage and tells a crowd of widowed people that hope matters, or that we can still have an amazing life, even if its not the one we wanted or planned – I believe her. I believe her because she did it herself. I believe her because she is standing there in front of me, and she is made up of all her pain and strength and fear and love and grief, and she continues on. I believe her because her life will always be complicated and wonderful and joyful and tinged with sadness and loss, and because she married again, to a man who not only doesnt feel threatened that she will always love her late husband, but who fully supports her calling to help other widowed people throughout the world. I believe her – simply because she is alive.

For those that have been asking what Camp Widow did for me, or if Im “all better” now that I went there – as Ive said many times, there is simply no such thing as being “better”. There just isnt. However, there is such a thing as recreating your life, while always carrying your partner with you, deep inside of your soul. There is such a thing as finding hope where you thought there was none, and light where you saw only darkness, and tomorrow where you couldn’t see past today. There are new relationships and friendships to explore, and people to love, and things to learn, and beauty to see. And there is the fact that even though today I feel hopeful and inspired – tomorrow I will feel different. And then different once again. That’s just grief. And that’s okay. 

 And then, of course, there is that lingering and very important question that still needs to be thought about, pondered over, and answered:

What is it I plan to do with my one wild and precious life?

I have no idea. But then again, maybe I do. In a lot of ways, I think I am already doing it.

Soaring Spirits is a non-profit organization helping the widowed worldwide, and celebrating its 5 year anniversary of Camp Widow West (coming up in San Diego, June 28), and 2 year anniversary of Camp Widow East (last weekend in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.) If you know anyone who is widowed, please tell them about this magical place where they can begin to live their life again, one tiny moment at a time. Please donate towww.sslf.org , and also check out www.micheleneffhernandez.com. Thank you so much.

Thank you, Kelley, for saying it better than I could.
xoxoxo

Happy Wednesday, Peeps.
:)

Please Help Us ....

.... at Soaring Spirits/Camp Widow by clicking on the link below and voting for us.  The winner gets a $50,000 grant!!!
It's almost overwhelming to think how many grieving  people we could reach out to with this win.
So please vote.
And vote often.
You can vote on line and you can add a second vote by text.
Every day.

If you buy Pepsi products you can "power vote" (giving us extra points) by using the code printed on each product.

You'll have to create an account, but they only ask for e-mail and bday and it's very quick. And then vote. Again and again and again. And tell everyone you know! Please!!!


Pepsi is giving away millions each month to fund refreshing ideas to change the world. The ideas with the most votes will receive grants, so vote now!

Vote, vote, vote!! PLEASE!! And thank you! :)

Support the programs of SSLF, including Camp Widow. - Pepsi Refresh Project

www.refresheverything.com

Another refreshing idea to support the community & make a difference - Pepsi Refresh Project

Just When You Thought You Were Having Fun ....

.... life comes and smacks you right between the eyes.
And it hurts.

Camp Widow was great. And fun.
And hard. And sad.
And emotional. And physical.
And .... wonderful.

It is an amazing experience to be amongst almost 300 people who understand.
And as amazing as that feels,, it sucks for them.
I love so many of these men and women. It breaks my heart that they have a reason to be in the same room with me, let alone the same hotel .... and conference.

The group of us that have been to all three CWs are a tight-knit bunch. And yet it was wonderful to meet other friends for the first time IRL*.
And wonderful to make brand new friends.

But it was horrible to find out that many of these new friends have been widowed for less than a year.
Much less.
One amazing person was only one month "out".**
There was no way I would've been capable of attending anything, let alone flying across the country to join 300 widows/ers for a weekend.

I had the blessing of meeting a lot of the new "campers" when I co-led the "First Time Campers" workshop. We had a lot of fun, which I think many of them found surprising. We laughed.
We laughed a lot.
I think some of them had not laughed that much in a very long time.
They blessed me.

I slept very little over the weekend, so I felt exhausted a lot of the time, and I only worked a fraction of what the other board members worked.
But by the middle of the afternoon on Saturday, I needed a break.
Desperately.
Or I knew the dam would burst.

And so I left the hotel and walked along the pier for an hour or so. By myself.
I've always been part introvert, so I have always needed to find some time to just "be". And that seems to occur more since Jim died. Probably because I'm alone much more than I'm with other people. Especially 275 or so people.

But the walk did a world of good and when I came back I found a group of friends out by the poolside bar. And we sat and talked.
And talked.
And talked.
Until it was time to go in and get all gussied up for the banquet.
I brought a beautiful red dress that Daughter #1 wore when she was in high school. I wonder if she'll ever find out?!

When I tried it on at home several weeks ago it took a bit of effort to get the back zipper up.
(Another sucky thing about being alone .... there's no one to help with zippers. Or, even worse, bracelets. I kid you not, one morning, not so long ago,  I was going through the McDonald's drive through and I asked the startled woman at the window if she'd clasp my bracelet for me and then stuck my arm out of my window .... and into hers.
She was very gracious.
And I am not proud.

Anyway, it took a whole lot longer to get that dang zipper zipped Saturday night.
But I triumphed over it .... finally, and put on a pair of the fiercest heels I've ever owned (I'll post pics later, but if you're on Facebook you'll be able to see the dress and the shoes.)
They were a hit. :)

And then it was all over. And we were hugging and saying our goodbyes on Sunday morning.

And then I came home.
To life.
The Sons were all fine and the house was in good shape.
Son #1 and I talked while I started the dreaded act of unpacking.
Then Son #2 came home and sat with us.
He was shortly followed by Son #3.
I was happy to see each of them.
I had missed them. A lot.

Then it was time to go to bed.
Since it was after midnight.
And so I did.
But as exhausted as I was, sleep did not come.
I finally gave up at 4:30 and took a sleep med to help.

And it did.
I slept until noon.
Which would have been really great, had I not forgotten that I was supposed to play tennis at 9:00 a.m. Meaning that I left 7 people in the lurch. I felt beyond horrible when I figured it out. I sent all 7 an apology email, asking for forgiveness. Three have answered to assure me that it was ok and to not worry about it. Which hopefully doesn't mean that the other four are too mad to email back.

After I sent that email I went to my Facebook page.
And saw I had a private message.
And that's when life slapped me.
Hard.
I found out that a dear friend, whom I love very much, is here in Houston.
At MD Anderson..
This friend is one of the reasons that Son #1 is named what he's named. She was responsible for setting Jim and me up for our first date.

She fought breast cancer very, very hard over 10 years ago.
And she beat it.
And remained cancer-free for enough years to be called "well".
Almost.
She was just months shy of that magical 10 year mark when she found out that it was back.
With a vengeance.
And that it would take her life, but hopefully that wouldn't be for some time.
This was a year or so after Jim died.

And now, she's here.
Fighting again.
And I cried when life slapped me with that.
Fortunately the friend who told me was also able to give me her cell number (thank you, H!). I emailed, texted and called, not knowing if she'd get the message at all, or if her husband would, or if it was too late to send a message.

A few hours later my cell phone beeped with a text message.
From her.
And I cried again ... with relief.
I had begged to come see her and she said yes. But I have to wait. She is going to have her lungs drained tonight, and is not able to talk.
She said she'd love to see me and will let me know when she's stable and can talk again.

I told her that I am praying.
And she said thank you .... and that she needs prayers, very badly.

And so I return to you, my Peeps, and beg you to join me in praying for her, her husband and their children.
I don't know if I'll be able to see her before I head to St. Louis for the transplant (I leave Wed and the surgeries will be on Thursday morning). But I hope to be able to see her after I get back on Saturday.

So I'm asking you for a lot of prayers this week.
For V, her son G and her husband R, as R's kidney is placed into his son's body.

And for my dear friend S, who's fighting for her life.

This all puts my achey joints at the bottom of any list. And makes me feel ashamed for even complaining about them and the lack of reief I'm getting from the new meds (which thankfully aren't making me sick at all).

I am blessed.
I love my children.
I love my family.
I love my friends, both old and new .... married and widowed.
And for each of you, who are not just Peeps, but are friends .... and loved ones.

Thank you, again.
And again and again.
You mean more to me than you will ever know.
You ... bless me.
Very, very much.

Thanks, Peeps, and happy Tuesday.
:)



*in real life
**the word "out" is used by widowed people to indicate how long ago their partner died. No one is ever told this,or taught it, it just seems to become part of your vocabulary when your widowed. Kind of strange, but interesting.

I Am Beyond ......

.... exhausted.
I slept well the first few nights at J and L's, but Wed night I did not fall asleep until after 4:30. I'm guessing it's the meds.
 Poor L, we had an error of comedies, though it wasn't funny at the time. I had intended to be at the hotel by 10 am and then the night before said I'd get there by noon. After not much sleep, I decided to just play it by ear, thinking that they had nothing planned for the day, other than picking up J's car, which they could do on the way to the hotel.
 I didn't realize that L had made a swim date with one of S's friends at 1:00. Then when she told me I thought "ok, I guess I'll leave when they head to the pool", not thinking that L had to be the one to drop J and I off at the car shop.
 Yes, I can be a moron.
 So imagine her shock when, at noon, I told her that I was going to get in the shower, so I didn't want her to leave before I got out. She said, "What?", so I repeated my request. That's when she told me, trying to speak calmly, that I had to leave with her,since she was dropping us off and then coming back for the pool date.
Oh.
Oh, my! I had not even begun to pack.
I'm not sure I'll be invited back.

It all worked out, though we had to drop S off at the pool with the other mom while L dropped us off at the car shop, with me offering up apologies the entire trip. Oh, I also had to apologize for, thinking that my DP bottle was tightly capped, dripping it on her carpet as I drug my suitcases out into the hall.
L only has one child .... who isn't very messy.
Nuff said.
Again, I may have to skip my annual visit next year.
Dang it.
It's a good thing she loves me.

BTW, please do your best to ignore any spelling errors ....I'm on my iPad and trying to type quickly, so there will be many.

Yesterday the board members who were here met up for awhile in M's suite. Yes, it's a suite and it totally rocks.
Then I met up with Matt and met his famous daughter, Maddie, who is currently in the "everything is opposite" phase, which she finds hysterical. She called me a boy.
I'm not talking to her at the moment.
Like she cares. :)

Ok .... I have to run. Another board member and I are presenting a workshop in 10 minutes to all of the "new campers". Then I hope to finish this post and take a nap. Ha! Whatever.
It is now 2:48, my tme. I was supposed to be eating lunch just now. Instead, I typed. I rarely do what's expected of me, do I?
I think it makes life much more interesting. At least for me.
Others? Not so much.

It is now 6:36 pm and this is the first time I've been to my room all day.
The presentation went great.  I think they had a lot of fun, which makes it great for me.  This is a conference for widowed people.  There are some here who have been widowed less than 3 months.
Yes, seriously.
So there is not a lot for them to smile about.
And yet they've smiled.  Most likely surprising themselves.
I am amazed that they're here.
And give them a lot of credit for that.
I'm not sure I was even capable of forming a sentence at less than three months, let alone able to get on a plane by myself and join a bunch of strangers for a weekend.

So it went well and helped energize me.
I'm feeling less exhausted.
It's not only physical exhaustion that gets to me .... it's emotional, too.
While this IS my passion, working with other widowed people and yes, I do feel 100% that I have been "called" to do this, it can still "get" to me.
And the tears still come ... for others and what they're experiencing.
And for what is yet to come for them.

The tears here are rarely for me.
Until I see the "tribute tile" on a wall with many, many others.
They are pictures of our loved ones.  We sent them in and they make a tile out of the picture and put them on the Tribute Wall.
Here's the one I used this year:

I.
So.
Miss.
This.
Man.

Still.

And I miss my kids.  Very much.
But I'm glad to be here.

I'm supposed to be at the evening reception now.
But I needed a few moments to just .... be.
And to finish this post.

And now I have finished it.
So I guess I'll put my work shirt back on and head down to the reception.
And meet more amazing people.

I must say that it's so crazy and wonderful to have people come up and hug me because they recognize me from my blog, or from the Widow's Voice blog, or from Widowed Village.
Crazy, wonderful and very, very humbling.
Humbling to hear what they think of my writing .... of my words.  The ones that just come out of my fingertips and onto my keyboard.
The ones that I give very little thought to, but which explain how I'm feeling .... or how I've felt .... during this "after".
I am blessed.
Beyond words.

So goodbye for now, Peeps.
I wish more of you were here.
Well, only the widowed ones.
The rest of you would just think .... well, I'm not sure what you'd think.
You'd most likely be very, very surprised.
But I hope you never find out.
:)

To you other Peeps, the ones on this path .... I hope that you can make it out here some time.
We plan to do two next year.  One in San Diego in August.
And one in the spring .... on the east coast.
We just let that cat out of the bag today.
I'm excited.
Not sure which state yet, maybe one of the lower ones ..... like the very lowest, but still not certain.
More to come on that later.

Take care, Peeps and Happy Friday.
:)

It's Only Been Five Days ....

..... and yet it seems like a week.
A full week.
It's been a very full five days.

Camp Widow is 17 days away.  But then I guess you know how far off it is/is not .... if you just look to the right.
:)
As the Volunteer Coordinator it's been a busy couple of weeks, trying to get in touch with everyone and get t shirt sizes, meal choices, workshop choices, etc.
If this were a perfect world, everyone would respond to my e-mails ..... in a timely fashion.
However it is not, and the do not.  Sometimes, not at all.
Sigh.
But most of them do and it's going to be a great weekend!

Daughter #2 came home today for a short visit.  We had pedicures this afternoon.
After I went to the physical therapy and then to see my orthopedic surgeon ..... who told me that I was a free woman.
OK, that's not exactly what he said, but that's what it amounts to.
I'm done seeing him, unless I get injured again (please, God .... no).
I'm done with physical therapy, which is both good and bad.  Good, in that I won't have to go 3 days a week, bad in that I liked going, liked my PT and the workout my shoulder got, and bad that I won't be doing that kind of work out at home.  I mean, I could totally lie and say that i will, but who would I be kidding?  I'm hoping to get some PT stuff done, but it won't be at the same level as going in and doing it is.
So yay, my shoulder has been cleared to do whatever it feels like doing.  Just not all at once.
I played tennis last Monday and it felt great.  No pain whatsoever.  For the first time in over 5 years.  And no pain that night, either.
And then I played on Thursday.  And I played longer, and a bit harder, than I had played on Monday.
And it was too much.
It's still a bit sore from that day, but not too bad.

But Thursday got a bit worse after that.
After playing tennis I went out and did a lot of errands.  At this point in time (just after midnight on Tuesday) I can't remember what all I did, but I was heading home around 3:00 p.m.
Our smallish-community has been having a lot of road work done on one of its 2 major streets.  Yep, one out of two is a lot.  I was on that street Thursday afternoon.  As I pulled on to it I passed a sigh that read, "road work ahead" .... duhhhh.  Then the next sign read, "Right light closed ahead".  Well, "ahead" in this case meant in about one mile.  But I dutifully moved into the left lane as soon as I could because that's just how I run.  And I ABHOR the little people who continue to zip down the right lane and cut in at the very last moment.
ABHOR.
Many such little people were doing this on Thursday.  And if you have done this, shame on you.
After being in the left lane for about 20 minutes (20 minutes of stop and go traffic) I looked into my rearview mirror and noticed that the black truck behind me was driving down the center of the two lanes, so that no more little people could zip by.  I smiled and thought, "Good for you, Mr. Black Truck Driver!"  We continued to drive this way a bit longer and then I noticed that there was a white truck behind the black truck and Mr. White Truck Driver was being aggressive.  Way too aggressive for stop and go traffic.  I have no doubt that he was totally ticked at Mr. Black Truck Driver for not letting him zip past.  He kept speeding up and riding on the rear end of the black truck, swerving left and right and mainly driving like a huge jerk.
Then he must've decided that driving like a jerk was not nearly as fun as driving like an ass, because he suddenly swerved to his left and drove up and over the curb, past the trees and sidewalk and past the black truck.
He then drove off of the curb and back into the right lane.
Next to me.
I was a bit stunned but would soon be even more stunned.
Because Mr. No-Longer-a-Jerk-But-Now-An-Ass started heading into my lane.
Where I was.
I thought that perhaps he didn't notice me there, even though I drive a large-ish red-ish SUV.  See, even then I gave him the benefit of doubt.  But that disappeared in the next nano-second.
Because I honked to let him know that there was indeed a car in the lane into which he was swerving.  I looked at him, his window was next to my window, and he was shaking both of his fists at me and waving them towards himself, as if to say, "C'mom!  C'mon and get some of this!".
And I was about as stunned as I thought I could get.
Until he kept heading into my lane.
I could not have avoided him, unless I swerved to my left and up and over the median on my side, or sped up and slammed into the car behind me, or hit my brakes and then watched the rear part of his truck hit the front part of my car.
He pulled closer to me and then swerved in my direction, causing our side mirrors to smash into each other.  I saw paint and glass flying everywhere.
And at that point I was about as stunned as I was going to be.
And then I became P***ED.
Very, very, P***ED.
I stopped my car and saw that he had stopped his and leapt out of it.
In my p***ed off state, I forgot that I was alone in my car, that I am only 5'4" and weigh somewhere around 120 lbs.
Meaning, not big enough to beat the crap out of this guy.
Even though I felt big enough at the time.
I jumped out of my car and just looked at him .... probably with a most unkind look.  He started screaming, "Pull it over!!  PULL IT OVER!!!"
I knew at that moment that I was dealing with a madman, but still didn't conclude that I had no one there to back me up.
So I mustered up all 5'4" of me and yelled the only thing I could think of (and of which I am not proud) .... "Screw you!!!"
And then I got back in my car and thought about just driving off for about 2 seconds.  But I was still too mad.  So I picked up my cell and dialed 911 and pulled my car over into the right lane.
A very, very kind mind who had been driving in front of my got out of his car and told me that I had done nothing wrong, I was in the right and that man was crazy.  And then he stayed with me until the police came, which took quite a while, seeing as how there was only one lane of traffic and people were gawking at us.  Mr. White Truck Driver, who henceforth shall be known as The Supreme Ass (of TSA), stayed on his end of the street and I stayed on my end.  The police came, took my story, took TSA's story and then took the witness' story.  And then he talked to TSA again and came back to me with an ultimatum;  he could give both of us a citation (wait for it ...), and we could take our chance in court,  or just let us both go and take care of our own cars.
And I then learned that I could, indeed, be stunned a little bit more.
I said something like, "WHAT?!!!  Why would I get a citation???!!!  I didn't do anything wrong and you have a witness to that fact!"
To which he replied something like, "I'm not going to go into any of that.  Do you want the citation or not?"
Now I have never had a citation before.  Nor a ticket.  Ever.  Yes, I know it's hard to believe, but it's true.  I personally think one should receive some sort of plaque or something if one reaches the age of, oh .... 50, and has never had a ticket.  Evidently not everyone agrees with that.
So all I could think, and say, was, "No!  I don't want a citation.  But HE should get one!"  Mr. Policeman, henceforth known as Ass #2, just looked at me.  Finally I said, "No, I don't want a citation."  He said, "Fine.  Now I'll go talk to TSA."  The witness could not believe it when I told him what Ass #2 had said.
Then Ass #2 came back and said, "TSA wants to file a police report.  So I'm going to write one, but not give either of you a citation."  I asked what in the world that meant and he said it meant that I should take his police report to my insurance office and then follow their directions.  He then told me that I could go. I got into my car, got back into the left lane, drove about 2 feet ..... and then it hit me.  Ass #2 did NOT want to give any citations because that meant that, not only would he be out there longer, but he would also have to show up in court.  And then I was furious.  Beyond furious.  I drove straight to my insurance office and told them what had happened.  The woman asked, "You told him, Yes, I want the citation!!! Right?"  I told her that, alas, I had not.  I was new at all of this and couldn't think in time and that I later realized what had just happened.  I had been scammed.
She told me that the police department from this particular large metropolis (which shall remain nameless, but you all know where I live anyway) contains some of THE laziest people on the face of the earth.  They, as an insurance company, encounter this all of the time.  This is so wrong .... on so many levels.  But if it ever happens again I'll know better.  And I'll go to court.
On the bright side?  His mirror was hanging by a wire.  Mine is just really scratched up.
And .... when I went to the insurance office I saw our weekly farmers' market in our town center.  I'd never been to it because I never remember that it's there.  But that day I went.  And enjoyed myself immensely.
So there, TSA.

Yes, this is a hugely long post and for that I am truly sorry.  I told you it's been a week of only 5 days.
And now, as of tonight, my joints are hurting.  Not just aching, but "had to take a pain pill" hurting.
Damn.
If they're like this tomorrow then I expect I'll be seeing the rheumatologist sooner, rather than later.

So there you go.
A week of 5 days.
I'm sure there's more to share with you about those 5 days, but it's almost 1 am and I have to take Son #3 to the dr. at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow.
Guess who made the appointment at that time?
It wasn't me.
sigh .....

On that sigh ..... Happy Tuesday, Peeps.

And please, move into the correct lane in a timely fashion.
:)


P.S.  I forgot to add that my insurance agent called the next morning and had a message from TSA.  He's filing a claim against them/me for "failure to yield".  She thought that was hysterical.  Especially since there was no where, nor any way for me to yield and not get hit by him moving into my lane.  He never stopped, never slowed down, never seemed to care that our cars would collide at some point.  I was glad to have helped given her some entertainment for her day.  She laughed .... a lot.
So did the agent who called yesterday to get my "tape recorded version" .... and she works for his insurance company!  I later got a call from my company, for the same thing .... my recorded version.  The person who took that one was very confused as to why he was even wasting their time.  I just said that I thought he was a wee bit crazy.  That's all.
Aren't we all?  But hopefully we hold it in while driving .... hopefully.

Help Me ....

..... help us.

Please.

And thank you, Peeps.
:)


Please help me to honor Jim's memory by supporting widows & widowers who don't have the wonderful support I've experienced over the past 3 1/2 years. Jim was a wonderful man, in all aspects and he'd be the first person to send in a donation. So please, if you knew him, if you know me ... take a moment and help us help others in this "club no one wants to join". And thank you!!


http://www.crowdrise.com/JanineEggers

Attention All Widowed Bloggers!!!!!!

Widowed Bloggers -- win a ticket to Camp Widow!

Write a post sharing WHY you want to attend Camp Widow 2011. Notify us that you posted by leaving a comment on the home post on Fresh Widow's blog to make sure we see it (you can also send us a note.)


Camp Widow is a exceptional weekend for widowed people of all ages. We will choose one (possibly two) bloggers to receive a PARTIAL scholarship that covers Camp registration and some incidental expenses. No actual camping is involved. Learn more about this event, which is in its third year, at campwidow.org.


How do I enter?
Please write and publish a blog post telling the world WHY you wish to attend Camp Widow 2011. You may include topics such as how you expect to benefit, or share about some of the widowed people you've already met. You do not need to demonstrate financial need though if you wish to write a separate note discussing your financial circumstances, you may do so.


Who is eligible to compete?

Widows and widowers of all ages who started blogging before 4/1/11 and who are interested in attending Camp Widow 2011. Please note: you should be prepared to pay for and arrange your travel to and from, and your lodging in San Diego. (We can help you find a roommate to reduce costs). If our generous donors can pay more, they will, but please don't apply unless you are prepared to make the trip (including arranging child care, taking time off work, etc.).


Summary and dates

• You must publish your blog post AND notify us by midnight EST, Tuesday, May 31.
• We will notify the winner(s) within 2 weeks.
• Camp Widow will be held August 12 to 14. Details are at campwidow.org. 

Winner(s) MUST arrange and pay for their own travel and hotel reservations.
Scholarship covers Camp Widow registration fee plus some incidentals.



Questions? Want to help fund this scholarship? We'd love to hear from you.


(Disclosure: This competition is hosted, managed, and funded by an independent group of widowed bloggers. We're not being compensated for creating this competition and those judging entries are not eligible to win.)



OK, Peeps ..... some of you are totally capable of winning this!!  And for those of you who are silent Peeps (which seems to be everyone now ..... unless everyone has stopped reading by now) please, please PLEASE consider going to Camp Widow.  I can promise you that you'll have a great time!  How could you not ..... being in a hotel with a couple of hundred people who GET IT????

Good luck to all of you bloggers!!!  I can't wait to see who wins!!!

Now start typing!
:)

Camp WIdow ....

..... is happening again in August.
In beautiful San Diego.
It's.
SO.
MUCH.
FUN!!!

Here are some Q & A's from the CW web site (if you have any other questions,  ask away!!):

FAQs

• Camp Widow sounds like a place to sit and cry, is it really a fun event?
• I don’t know anyone, and am feeling very nervous about coming to camp alone. Will there be other people also attending solo?
• Will there be people my age at Camp Widow?
• There don’t seem to be many men at Camp Widow. Is this program only for women?
• Will you hold Camp Widow in other locations?
• Does SSLF make a profit on the Camp Widow program?
• Why do you hold Camp Widow at a fancy hotel?
• What are some cost saving tips for making the camp experience more affordable?

Camp Widow sounds like a place to sit and cry, is it really a fun event?

We’ll offer the photos on the website as proof…we laugh, we share dark humor, we allow space for lightness and a break from the reality of being in charge of all the responsibilities that were once shared. Of course there are emotional moments when we talk about our loss which are both healing and natural, but the focus of Camp Widow is on what lies ahead in our lives. One of our favorite quotes from both 2009 and 2010, “I laughed so hard my cheeks hurt.” Two years in a row, two different people.

I don’t know anyone, and am feeling very nervous about coming to camp alone. Will there be other people also attending solo?

YES! We work hard to provide several opportunities for you to meet people individually, and in small groups. Camp Widow Ambassadors are on site to help you get comfortable, and to guide you through camp logistics. But the biggest reason to come alone, is that you will meet people who get you and likely make friends who will last a lifetime.

Will there be people my age at Camp Widow?

The age range of campers is generally between 21 and 83! There is a liberal sprinkling of campers from all age ranges, and through the time spent at camp we come to discover how very much we have in common regardless of age.

There don’t seem to be many men at Camp Widow. Is this program only for women?

Camp Widow is for anyone who has lost a life partner regardless of gender, age, religious background, sexual orientation, married or not married, and for those who have remarried as well. We’ve all lived through the loss of a life partner, and the energy created by this unique bond is incredible. There are definitely more women than men at camp, but we hope as word spreads about this program that not only will more men attend Camp Widow, but that general support for widowers will continue to grow.

Will you hold Camp Widow in other locations?

Yes, as soon as we secure the funding to do so. Our goal is to have an East Coast Camp Widow developed by 2016. Until then, we’d love to see you in sunny San Diego, CA where every year we have people join us from all over the country, and around the world. And if you know of any forward thinking Corporations who would be a great fit for sponsoring this event, we’d love to hear from you!

Does SSLF make a profit on the Camp Widow program?

NO. In fact, each year we count on the generosity of our sponsors, our speakers, and our volunteers to make hosting Camp Widow possible. Our dream is to make Camp Widow a free program, much like the many free camps available for grieving children. Again, if you or anyone you know would be interested in changing lives through the Camp Widow program, we’d love to talk!

Why do you hold Camp Widow at a fancy hotel?

The San Diego Marriott Hotel and Marina has been a phenomenal partner in planning Camp Widow. This level of hotel allows us all the planning tools we need, has the space available to accommodate our group, has an exceptional record of customer service, and allows our campers a get-away that pampers them in body, while the weekend energy feeds their souls.

What are some cost saving tips for making the camp experience more affordable?

First, we do have a roommate list for any camper who’d like to save costs by sharing a room. You will have a chance to be in touch with your roommate in advance of camp, or sign up with a friend and have a built in roommate.  This immediately cuts your housing cost in half, and the hotel will bill you separately. Second, we do have a group rate discount rate of $325. It is easy to qualify for this discount! If you are a member of the Widowed Village, Widows Wear Stilettos, the Liz Logelin Foundation, the American Widow Project, the Open to Hope Foundation, any hospice organization, or are affiliated with any of our 2011 speakers you need only list your organization in the notes of your registration to access this discount.  Not a member? You can also create your own group of four, by sending in the names of your group to our registrar Barbara at barbaraf@sslf.org. This discount shows as an option on the registration form, located under the registration tab. Third, the Marriott is only three miles from the San Diego International airport, and there are lots of restaurants, shops, and even some sightseeing within steps of the Marriott. So there really is no need for a rental car. Fourth, choose the self-park option when parking at the Marriott which is $24 per day. Carpooling is also a great way to save on gas. Lastly, pack your breakfast for Saturday. The program opens at 9:00AM and if you have a light breakfast in your room, you’ll be off for lunch at 1:00PM and will only have one meal to pay for Saturday as dinner will be included with your registration.

Check out the web site for more info, photos, personal thoughts from past attendees, and what we offer and celebrate during this fabulous weekend!!  I hope to meet some of you there!!

Happy Thursday, Peeps.

:)