There's a book for that...

I was packing tonight and came across several books.
The Healing Journey Through Grief
Your Grief Journal
Widow to Widow
A Widow's guide to Grieving

I stared at them for a minute...just like I just did again...all spread out on my bed. The nightstand is empty. And I opened each one. I looked at the creased binding and the dog eared page.

Once upon a time, I needed a book to learn how to be me. How to be the me I was going to become. But it was as I read these books, I realized, these books were saying exactly what I was feeling. Not word for word, but a sentence here, a paragraph there, a chapter. Grief.

And as I read the underlined sentences I could feel the raw, cold ache in my bones. It never went away. I've just learned how to live with it. And can be reminded of it all to easily.

...only another widow knows what it feels like to become a widow...

...but I keep forgetting...(I remember the day I turned the corner of my subdivision and didn't understand why Nic wasn't standing in my driveway)
Chapter 3 - Dumb Things People Say: What friends, relatives and those who care should know
...Grieving is a process rather than a series of uphill steps...one day you will realize you actually enjoyed yourself...it does happen, in our own time and in your own time and in yur own way...
...Mourning becomes livable when you do something cheering and healthy for yourself...

...Do not go to bed at night without having your next day planned...

On one page I actually wrote, I have anger. Why have you visited other people in dreams and not me. I need to see you. I feel you and I know you are here. Why can't I see you?
...You are more , more sensative, more confused, more angry and more afraid, to name a few of your new, unwanted acquisitions. Very likely, you are also trying to be brave and indepenent.

I once underlined, "I can't picture my future, and I'm filled with memories of the past. I'm just too sad to move or even cry."

And when I read that, I feel this ache in my chest. I feel SO bad for the girl that underlined that. I feel SO bad for the person that hurt that bad. That finally had a chance to sit down at the end of the day and that's what they did. That girl read a book about grieving because that book understood. And my heart just hurts for that girl.

And I'm not that girl. I'm not that girl that lay in this bed, underlining quotes on grief. Knowing that at least someone out there understood dispair because the book was written. I'm a girl that smiles from the inside. Laughs from deep within. I'm so happy for this girl. This girl that looks back on memories of the past and smiles and shares them with who ever will listen. This girl that picked that other girl up and knew there was so much more. This girl that opened her heart.

I once underlined, "...despite your loss, ou need to accept that you still have a life to lead and must continue to deal with your everyday responsilities."

And when I read that, I just can't comprehend that the girl that underlined that didn't love life for awhile. Forced herself to get out of bed, to get ready, to be a parent.

And I'm not that girl. Oh, trust me...I still force myself to get out of bed, but just because I'm like everyone else out there that would love to just hit the snooze button one more time. This girl looks back on the time she had alone with her daughter and considers it a blessing. This girl needs to tell herself she needs to share her daughter...because she isn't used to doing it. And considers herself lucky. This girl can't wait to "run a household" again. To cook. To clean. To make a welcome home for her family.

That girl stopped reading the book when she got to the chapter "Acceptance" because that girl was nowhere near ready to accept.

And I'm not that girl. And I love that girl. I feel sorry that girl had to feel that way, but she made me become who I am today. And I love that.

It's so hard to look back and remember the raw emotion. But I know it's there because I personally feel it when I read these books. And I can't get rid of these books because they represent such a real time in my life. A time, that I will never forget, but that has become such a fiber of me, that is part of my existence, that just is. Unfortunately, I know someday I'm going to need to draw on these thoughts of the past. These raw emotions of the past. I know, as life goes on, I will encounter more widows. Some more experienced then me and willing to share theirs...and some that will so desparetly need me to hold them up.

And I'll hold them and I'll tell them. Patience. You will never know it's happening. But one day you will look back and realize, I regained my life. I took control. I process grief daily and we have learned to coexist. You will realize, this is my life. And I am happy with what it has become. And I am happy with who I have become. And I opened my heart. And it was scary. And it was good. And you won't know it's happening. But it will happen.

Holy. Crap.

What the hell just happened?
I sold my house - that's what happened. 
In almost 3 hours, I sold my house. 
No.
I sold my HOME.  Which is WAY different than a house.
On Monday, July 9th, my house went on the market.  We had a broker's tour.  A kid (yes, he's a kid...I'm older than him...he's a kid) came through the tour. 
He came through again that night with his agent.
The next day we had an offer. 
No financing contingency.
No other home contingency. 
He just wanted my house by the end of the month.
We had our home inspection last week and the buzz of the times is RADON.
So...we had to have a radon inspection...which I feel was kind of like testing to see if the Lochness Monster lived in my basement.
Or Big Foot.
Both of which, apparently do, because we failed our Radon test.
PS - Every one fails their radon test.  It would be like testing your house for oxygen.  It's there!
However, apparently no one cared that radon was in my house prior to me selling it...because I never heard about Radon, Radon Tests or....Mitigation systems...which I now get to buy for my house.  Er, I mean, Mr. Buyer's house. 
PS - I was pregnant in this house.  I had an infant in this house.  And now I have a little person in this house - shouldn't someone have told me about radon if it's that big of a deal?
Counters all accepted.
Final docs signed. 
I have an accepted offer and we close July 31. 
I'm too exhausted to be emotional right now.  I have too much shit to do to cry.
When I'm in this house I never want to be anywhere else  I kick myself for selling it. 
It is...the best house ever. 
It was my first home. 
But...I took a load of crap...er...stuff to Andy's today.  And when I'm there...I never want to leave.  I feel the way the kitchen light pierces through the dark of the setting sun and it feels like home.  I hear the creak of a floor board.  I look around at all my boxes, mingling with all his stuff.  And my heart skips a beat and I get so excited for what is in front of us. 
I can't walk away from my house.  I can't leave this home.  But I'm grabbing my baby girl's hand, and we are walking together...and we are walking toward Andy's outstreatched hand.  And we aren't really leaving this house.  We aren't really walking away.  We are just walking forward.
Oops...and I said I wasn't going to get emotional. 

A scale of 1 to exhausted

I am:
Exhausted
Stressed Out
In need of a run
Itchy (darn mosquito's)
Overwhelmed

Probably because I'm so dang bored and I have nothing to do!
I'm pretty pissed too, because I was trying to upload some pictures and I think my computer froze, because the pictures stopped uploading...and...of course...I hit the wrong button and then the pictures that had uploaded were gone.  Not in my blog.  Just gone.

The other day I was talking to my dad about how I have so much going on and it's just impossible to keep everyone up to date all the time.  I can't keep myself up to date...so imagine the neglect many of my immediate friends and family feel! Yesh.  I told him I was going to start a newsletter and maybe that way I could ke ep everyone informed.  "Um.  Don't you have a blog?" My dad asked.
Those dads. 
So smart!
So...you want to know what's going on?  Read the blog!  :)

So.  What IS going on?
Well...we've been VERY busy with beautiful weddings, 4th of July celebrations, concerts - Dave Matthews AND Neil Diamond - both shows were incredibly amazing! - Birthday celebrations - Family - Friends - eating gluttonous amounts - drinking even more - And packing.  Lots and lots of packing!

The house is officially on the market...although, I will admit I'm more than a little sad we don't have a sign in our yard yet.  I'll cry when I see it for the first time, but I'm excited too!  The write up on the house was really cute and the broker tour provided some great feedback.  We've already had 3 showings with 2 more scheduled and an open house.  All within less then 12 hours. 

I don't love living in a house that is listed.  I'm running around behind Eleanor, trying to keep the house clean...and do you know how hard it is for me to put my clothes away at the end of the day? 

Anyway - keep your fingers crossed the house sells quickly.  While Eleanor doesn't technically have a daycare yet - I'm not sure how people live with a house on the market for months and months!

Random Thoughts from a Racing Mind

I found that on Pinterest. 
I like it.
So I'm sharing it with you.

My relator contacted me today. 
When do you want to start showings? She asked.
Um...Never.  Can't you just sell my house without taking pictures and without having people walk through it?
Makes sense to me.
Otherwise...what am I paying you for?

Well...I guess that can't happen...so I had to keep boxing up stuff...no...let's call it what it is - CRAP.  Boxes and boxes of crap are exiting my house!
O.M.G.  Do you know how much crap I have?!

And I have to get ready for this weekend - which is UBER busy.
And it's so damn hot out I just can't do anything.
Eleanor's crabby.
I'm crabby.
I'm tired.
E's so tired she's boycotting sleep. 
It was another one of those nights that she called for me and called for me and called for me.  Finally I told her I wasn't going in there any more.  She called for me again and I sat outside of her door and cried.
Then I told myself I was doing stuff until 9 and then I was sitting down and blogging.
With a glass of wine. 
Seriously.  I don't know what person in their right mind makes the conscience decision to move. 
YOU
ARE
CRAZY
Unless you need to move.  Or your house is falling down around you.
Don't
Do
It!
OK - I'm done.  I'm so super excited to move...it's just packing that sucks.  I even like unpacking. 
Ouf...I need to go do more packing...

...and falling in love again...

When Nic died, people said some dumb shit to me. Lucky for me, I have some amazing friends that ran some good interference...but they didn't catch them all.  One person said to me, Now isn't the time to be sad.  You have to learn to be strong now?  Ummm, "learn to be strong now"? So...exactly what was I while watching my husband die, running a house and carrying for a 2 year old?  Never once, did I have a chance to not be strong.  Still to this day...keep up the good front...learn to be strong...idiots. 

Another great thing that was said...A part of you died when Nic died.  No shit - really? At age 30 I lost my husband, my partner in life. My best friend. Yup.  A big part of me died when Nic died.  Idiots. 

I didn't complain.  I didn't feel sorry for myself.  I didn't, for one minute, let it stop me.  I took all of Nic's courage, strength, love, fight.  I took his lifetime and made it mine.  Because he died at such a young age, he had a lot left to give.  And I took it all.

And yet...I hid a lot of it too.  Maybe I didn't think I deserved to love again.  Maybe I thought I wouldn't get the chance.  Maybe I thought that I had that rare, true love and I surely would never find it again.  Maybe I thought I wasn't lucky.  Maybe I internalized a lot of my fear and told myself it couldn't happen.

So with my friend Sarah told me she had a man for me.  I ignored her.  This was not Sarah's first attempt at match-making.  And maybe I wasn't interested.  Maybe I was scared.  Maybe I didn't think I was deserving.  But Sarah had to know something, because this time, she pushed.  And finally one day she sent an e-mail to Andy and an e-mail to me.  "Dana, this is Andy, Andy this is Dana..."  And I stared at that e-mail for days.  "He'll never e-mail me."  I repeated to myself over and over and over.  I'm a 31 year old widow with a kid.  He'll never e-mail me.

And then one day he did.  Shit.  I quick logged out of my e-mail account.  Maybe he didn't see me!  Talk about an idiot!  So I logged back in and read the e-mail.  It spoke of houses, jobs, dogs, interests.  And then I had to respond.  I waited a few days.  Maybe I was scared.  Maybe I wasn't interested.  Maybe I didn't think I was deserving.  But I e-mailed him back.  And I spoke of houses, jobs, kids, and interests. 

And this went on for weeks.  And then the phone calls started.  Our first phone conversation was 4 hours long.  I put Eleanor to bed, called Andy, and we talked until midnight.  We talked and talked and talked.  And this went on for months. Hours at a time.  Hours.  Never less. We talked about getting together, but he went out of town on business, I went out of town on business, there was Thanksgiving, Christmas, Birthdays, on and on and on and nothing ever worked out. 

And then I thought we'd never met.  And I would tell myself over and over again.  Do NOT get attached to him.  Do NOT fall in love with him.  Maybe I was scared.  And when it was finally time to meet, I was so smitten with this man.  He was SO easy to talk to.  And we had the same interests, but we were totally different too.  And when we met, I said to myself....even though I had seen a few pictures...everything seems so perfect...just let him be good looking.  And he walked into Mo's, confident, controlled...and totally good looking.  And our first date was over 5 hours long.  And we were the last people in the resturant.  And the cleaning crew started vacuuming.  And we decided we needed to leave.  But we didn't want to leave.  And it was never a question of IF I was going to see him again, but from date one...it was WHEN am I going to see him again?

But I waited.  I waited for the other shoe to drop.  And I didn't want to talk about us too much.  I didn't want to curse it.  I didn't want to stand up in the boat, because I didn't want to make waves.  I kept a low profile.  I.  was. petrified.  And even though I told myself not to...I already was.  In love. 

And that's how Andy and I met.  And that's how Andy and I fell in love.  And I'm not scared anymore.  And when I am, I get to talk to Andy about it.  And sometimes he just listens.  Sometimes he laughs at me and tells me I'm being stupid.  He challenges me like that.  It feels good to be challenged.  And I don't feel like I don't deserve this.  I realize that with that strength, comes this love.  I don't know why I get this second chance.   I don't know why Andy's soul told him to wait...that a lost, hurt, battered and beaten soul was going to come along and need him.  And some how, we found each other.  And all I can do is hope.  Hope that some other widow, a new widow, stumbles across this blog and realizes...It will never, ever get easier.  I just gets different.  And different, my friends, can be so good.