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Grief and Happiness

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Sooo….you might have noticed I stopped writing for the last one hundred and eighteen days.  I just couldn’t physically write a word, and it’s as if I unconsciously put a cork in my brain to stop the flow of nonstop shit that relentlessly flowed from my memory banks. I guess it was natures way of letting me take a break and heal. I have been working on my second book, which is not about grief by the way, but filled with older, past memories that kept the grieving wound open and festering.
It was nice for a while, to not dissect every well-meaning thought to be written down, but the urge to say what I needed to say, silently prompted me to start writing and sharing once again. Naturally, my thoughts touched on why I felt the need to stop the chatter and I realized I was ashamed of my grief.
I was…am… embarrassed of my sadness…and more recently…my happiness…the fact that life continued to move forward without my husband, father and daughter just felt wrong.
Let me start with the grief sham…

My Ghost

My husband has stopped haunting me. No more lights going off and on, furniture vibrating, owls hooting outside my window before every event, vivid visitation dreams of us being together or his smell floating around me in a movie theater. I am angry. I feel like he left me all over again. His visitations were the only thing that got me through his absence. That, and the knowledge that he was still with me.
It ended six months ago, two years and two months after his death, when I moved into my latest home. It’s a perfect home for me, with grand living room ceilings, open kitchen with three ovens and a perfect size backyard that doesn’t overwhelm me to maintain. It’s shaped like an L, due to the three-car garage, a style Dean and I talked about building many times after retirement. I knew as soon as my offer was accepted, I was meant to have it as a gift from either Dean or my spiritual family. Shortly after I moved in, I discovered walking trails all around me to exercise my dog and be…

Mind Over Meditation

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Photo by Trust "Tru" Katsande on Unsplash
There seems to be no lack of motivational, self-improvement publicity out in the world lately.Abraham Hicks, spirituality, posted affirmations on social media, mediums on TV and more, but the one thing I am trying to learn is meditation. My ability to blank my mind and focus on nothing but breathing is a challenge and yet when I can last at minimum of five minutes, I feel the benefit of calmness wash over me.Zen, Mindfulness, Metta (kind), Mantra, Transcendental, Yoga, Sound, Kundalini…the list goes on there are so many to try, but I always come back to the standard sit and relax pose.  Recently, I was having a sad moment in the gym and decided to incorporate meditation into my workout.
Since I still suffer from grief in some form every day, I found that meditation redirects my energy and grounds my mind very quickly.I decided to jump on one of the stationary bikes at my local gym in a location where no one was around.I cranked the tun…

Is The Meaning of Life the Same for Animals as it is Humans?

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Sometimes I have to wonder what in the hell my dog thinks about all day?

Cady is an eleven year old female yellow Labrador and I have had her since she was 3 months old, her birthday being June 30th, 2007.  When I "adopted" her as a puppy, I gifted her to my husband Dean.  He was a dog person, someone who had a dog most of his life and loved them like children.  I, on the other hand, had never had one.  I was a horse person, which I consider much easier than a dog because they don't demand my emotional attention as much. But together, Dean and I got through the early years of potty training, jumping on guests and discipline, well, mostly Dean handled that stuff.  I got to be the fun parent.  HE rubbed her belly, teased her and took care of the poop stuff.  I took her running and hiking when he wasn't around, fed her way too many treats and she drove shotgun on errands with me around town.

Since losing my husband, I have struggled with being a single caretaker.  The re…

And So On....

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I have taken a hiatus from writing as of late.  Mainly because it forces me to delve deeply into my feelings and that causes me pain.  I so wanted my trip to Spain to be a pivotal turning point in my life.  I had tricked myself into believing that for a short while, but reality has a way of forcing its presence.  I grieved hard the last six months and was spiraling further before I left, luckily the vacation in itself was an energy distraction and helped set me back on life's course.  Unfortunately, it did not last. 

Life has been a whirlwind of selling my home and rental property, buying a new place to live and packing.  I took a kickboxing class and joined another online grief group.  I continue to pump out drawings in my spare time and watch a lot of movies on Hulu.  The days blur together and I have those moments of "what is the point of living?"  There is boredom of life in grief.

I most recently purchased a large bottle of Cannabis sleep aid.  I was steadily incre…

Is It Possible to Outrun the Grief?

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I most recently took a break from my life and went on a trip to Spain.After severe grief for 783 days since Dean passed, 762 days since Dad passed and 156 days since Tia left my world, I thought a vacation might change the energy of my chronic anguish.I have to say, leaving town put my emotional state on pause, with occasional bursts of tears that I hid behind my sunglasses and from well intentioned eyes.The excitement of visiting a country of my heritage was a distraction and I crossed one more thing off my bucket list.I didn’t intentionally block my feelings, but focused on all that was new and exciting around me. I wanted to feel alive and happy. The visit to my father’s ancestor’s homeland was amazing and magical.But after eighteen days, I was ready to come home.


As I merged back into my normal routine, I was frustrated that sadness had seeped back into my soul.I felt I had turned a corner on my emotional journey in taking the long-anticipated vacation, and that things would be be…

The Musings of a Dating Midlife Widow

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What no one told me after losing my husband to brain cancer, was that as a widow, I would go through a (for lack of better word) horny phase. Yes, I said it. Women over fifty still get randy! It was a few months after his passing when the longing for my deceased husbands tangible touch, scent, taste and feel was still in the yearning phase. I would meditate to remember his essence and what it was like to be with him. That would get me all fired up with nowhere to go. It was too early to try and date, because once around other men, it was still repulsive to think of being with someone new. Of course, there is guilt about being loyal and faithful…to a man that is no longer alive. I know, its not rational. Nothing much is when it comes to grief. Flash forward over two years…and here I am. Ready as I can be, trying out the dating scene. Everything is different. The texting, online presence, the expectations and worst of all, the catfishing. The fake profiles are everywhere, seemingly on ev…