10 Things in 10 Years

September 4 was the 10th anniversary of Ron's death. Earlier this year, for International Widows Day (held annually on June 23), Soaring Spirits International asked members of its community to submit a story of something they'd accomplished post-loss that they were proud of or had never thought they'd do. And on that day, Soaring Spirits periodically shared these stories on its Facebook page as a way to celebrate widows' amazing spirits and to inspire others.

My first thought on hearing about this (and the only one for quite a while) was, "I haven't done ANYthing yet that I didn't think I'd do!" Only after pondering for a while did I realize a couple of things that did, in fact, fit that description. And in the meantime, I've thought of several other things that do as well. Why didn't I think of any of these things right off the bat? I think it's because my list of "want to's" in life is so long, and I haven't had the energy to do so many of them, that that's the first thing I think when I encounter this question. I guess in the future I'll just have to try to remember the following list. And now, without further ado, here are 10 things I've done in 10 years that, if you'd told me right after Ron's death that I'd do them, I'd never have believed you:

1. Survive.
   Seriously, when the person you love most in the world dies, you think you're going to die, too. At least you want to. And you have to decide, moment by moment until you can do it hour by hour until you can do it day by day, that you're not going to join your beloved on the other side. Even though the only thing you wanted and still want is to be with that person. Thanks for my not doing that go in largest part to the grief support resources I discovered early on: a grief support website (no longer in existence) with a 24/7 chat room—a life saver!—and no less than 3 separate in-person support groups. For online support now, I go to Facebook groups and Widowed Village (which also has a 24/7 chat room).
2. Date again.
   After Ron died, my thinking was: I've already had the love of my life; why would I want to do that or try for that again? What I didn't know yet was: that was just the grief talking. About 9 months after Ron's death, I met Tim....and sensed a connection with him from our very first conversation. Within a couple weeks, we were dating. I think it took that experience to show me, as nothing else probably could have, that I did in fact want to and could love again. He and I didn't last, and I haven't yet found a truly long-term relationship, but at least I know it's a possibility.

3. At Camp Widow West 2013 (source). Shirt from the American Widow Project.

   Call myself a widow.
   When he died, Ron was my "boyfriend." We'd just started dating officially a couple months before. But I realized pretty quickly that "boyfriend" didn't begin to cover what he meant to me. "Dating" wasn't nearly sufficient. I began to call him my fiancé because we had talked so much about getting married; we had agreed in our hearts that we were headed for it. I truly believed that I would marry him someday. Even more than all that, though, the thing that most gave me permission to call myself "widow" was the essay The Widow's Gates by Kim Go. It opened my eyes to the historically-wider meaning of the word "widow" and more importantly, validated my unique journey. I can never thank Kim, herself a widow who was wedded, enough for writing that piece.

4. All of us at my first Camp Widow. Can you see me? (source)

   Find and join an inclusive community through something called Camp Widow. I can't remember exactly how I first heard about Camp Widow or its parent organization, Soaring Spirits (though I've racked my brain trying to!). But I'm so very glad I did. The thing that makes Soaring Spirits so meaningful to me is that anyone whose significant other died is welcome to participate in its programs—regardless of marital status, gender, age, or orientation. Of course, if it weren't so inclusive, I wouldn't be a part of it. I've been told time and again that I'm "not really a widow" because Ron and I weren't married. But that distinction doesn't matter at Soaring Spirits. The other thing that makes it so meaningful to me are the many friendships I've made through it, including some that I now hold dearest.
   
   
5. Support other widows. If I didn't imagine calling myself a widow, I certainly couldn't have imagined supporting other widows. But in July 2010, I and one other UW started the Unwedded Widows Facebook page (for UWs and supporters), and a few years later, I added the Unwedded Widows group (for UWs only).
   
   In 2013, Soaring Spirits started their Regional Group program, which allows widowed people in the areas where there are groups to regularly hang out with others who "get it." And I volunteered to lead Soaring Spirits Central Ohio, which has been in existence since August of that year.
   
   I've gotten indications that these support avenues have been helpful for people, and I am so, so grateful that's the case.
   

   With some of the members of SSCO.

   
   
6. Start 2 blogs.
   Of course, in 2004, I probably would've said, "What's a blog?" But about 5 years after Ron died, I started my other blog, Loving From the Inside Out—part of my attempt to bring good into the world out of his passing. There's still a lot more I want to do around that concept...and I'll certainly share about it when I do.

7. With Bare Escentuals Executive Chairman Leslie Blodgett during her visit to our store in July, 2010 (source / credit: Photolosophys).

   Become a makeup artist.
   In June 2007, I was laid off from my full-time job as a technical communicator, the job I had when Ron died. And while being laid off was certainly no fun, if it hadn't been for that, I'd never have needed a second job to supplement the temping I was doing, and I'd never have applied at Bare Escentuals. I already used and loved the foundation and a few other products, and I thought it'd be cool to work there. And it was. But it was more than that. For the first time, I really learned how to apply makeup, something I'd never been taught growing up in a home where it was largely forbidden. And knowing how to skillfully apply makeup helped me feel more beautiful and helped me help others to do the same. And not incidentally, that job did even more for me: it provided a bright spot in my life. It helped me experience some much-needed cheerfulness and fun. It gave me something to look forward to, which I hadn't had in a long time. I will forever be grateful for my time at BE.
8. Take long, solo car trips.
   In 2012, I wanted to go to Camp Widow East, but flying to Myrtle Beach (where East was held for the first 2 years) was so expensive, I knew I could rent a car and drive there for cheaper than the flight. And so I did, even though I couldn't find anyone to ride with me. And then in September 2013, I drove to New Jersey and back during a weekend so I could spend more time with my widowed peeps. As I've said before, it's certainly not the solo part that I love; I just don't let that part stop me. And I gained in confidence through doing it! Always a good thing.
9. Become a LGBT ally.
   Having grown up Independent Fundamental Baptist, there was only "one" answer regarding all things LGBT, which of course was that all of it is wrong, period. I mean, it's clearly stated

   Card given to those who sign up to be allies to the Pride Partnership (employee group) at my company. This now hangs directly below my nameplate outside my cubicle.

   in the Bible, right? Well, thanks largely to my frequent readership of Rachel Held Evans' blog and other voices, I have come to have a very different opinion about that. Especially since many scholars believe that the passages that conservatives interpret as being anti-homosexuality are actually referring to pedophilia and similar forms of abuse. Also, this video was especially enlightening. But possibly the biggest thing that shifted my thinking? The simple question: When did I decide to be straight? Ohhh, right. I didn't. Plus: I don't care anymore how other people live. 'Long as they're not causing harm to self or others,...I couldn't care less. Anyway, I'm so grateful I've changed in this way. There are people in my life today who I've come to care a great deal about who wouldn't be, if I hadn't changed my mind and heart.
10. Take up yoga.
    Well, yoga was another thing forbidden by the IFB. The conservative Christian "party line," as I've heard it, is that yoga comes out of Hinduism and is therefore evil and that you're a) worshiping Hindu gods when you assume certain poses and b) inviting demons into your body and life when you sound an "om." I've even heard that "om" is the name of a specific demon. (How anybody would even "know" that, I have no idea.) Well, I now find all of that to be patently ridiculous. Worshiping is an act of the will; it's not like you can accidentally worship something. And as for "om"? A very experienced yoga teacher, when I asked what the deal with "om" was, said that the word itself doesn't mean anything; sounding it is just a way to experience vibration in the belly, chest, and head. I started practicing in June of this year, and I've come to love going to class. I've begun to see inklings of a difference it is making in my life, and that is very cool.

 And...a bonus one (since this one didn't occur until just after the 10-year mark passed): Have my own website. I don't remember when I first had the idea of having my own site, but it may've been because my old Internet service provider included some free website space with every account. I'd learned a little HTML in my work as a technical communicator, so I created one on that platform, but it was pretty rudimentary. It did, however, tell the story of Ron and me. Later, when I changed ISPs, that site went away. Then sometime within the last couple years, I discovered Wix, which allows people to create their own professional looking site without having to do any coding. And after a lot of thought and hard work, I finally have a site that I'm proud of and that once again tells my and Ron's story. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...conniewinch.com:

So there you have it. Come to think of it,...I've done a lot! 

The Mighty Warrior Who Advises the King

As soon as I had the idea, I knew I had to do it. If I could get it in gold.

I'd seen the necklace before, several times. It's one of the many on the website that I'd viewed every page of, several times, searching for something that was "me." I mean, they donate to Soaring Spirits; how could I not get something? But most of their items are silver, and try as I might, I just don't like silver.

But then one time I noticed that the discs on this particular necklace also came in gold, though the chain did not. And that was when I got the idea. And I thought, "If they're at Camp Widow this time, I'll have to ask if I can get the chain in gold too."

I had to choose a different chain, but yes, I was able to order a gold one for this necklace.

And when she asked which letters I wanted on the discs...naturally, I said R, L, K.

That's how I refer to him sometimes when I mention him, like on Twitter or Facebook--RLK. But even more than that...I love the meanings of his names. I've loved name meanings for, like forever.

Ronald means "advisor to the king" (other meanings are "powerful," "mighty counselor/ruler"); Louis means "famous warrior."

Somehow...in the intervening years since I first looked up these meanings, "famous" turned to "mighty." Whatever. I'm not inclined to change it back, in my head.

And can I just say? Fitting. There were other aspects to him too, of course, but these meanings...they speak essential truths about him.

So...now, I have, always close to my heart, another tangible reminder of the mighty warrior who advises the king.

The Classic Initial necklace by Urban Sparrow Designs

Camp Widow East 2013: The Same and Yet So Different

All Camp Widow East 2013 attendees. Hope Matters! (Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

So...I had internet access issues for several weeks recently (long story); that's why I haven't posted much lately and why I'm only now posting my overall report on Camp Widow East (which was over a month ago). So, without further ado:

Camp Widow was different this time...and also the same. The "different" part will make sense later. The "same" part is...this was my 4th Camp (so hard to believe), and they're starting to run together in my mind. Never thought that would happen.

This time, I didn't know for a long time if I'd be able to go. For the first few months of this year, I wasn't sure I'd be retaining my job, due to changes at the company. Fortunately, in the meantime, I've kept it, but back in March, I didn't know if I'd be able to afford Camp. Well, enter...an anonymous donor. One evening during the second week March, Michele Neff Hernandez, the head of Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation and Camp Widow director, messaged me on Facebook to tell me someone had anonymously donated specifically for me  a registration and 2 nights' stay in the hotel. I was absolutely floored...and soon in tears. Though I have my suspicions, I don't really know who this donor was. So I can only put a huge "Thank you!" out into the universe...and find ways to pay it forward.

Another amazing means of help came the night before I was set to leave. After all sorts of talk with the SSLF car pool coordinator (cool, huh?) about things like picking someone up in Charlotte of all places and after a plan with a widow sister from Indiana to ride together (but miss parts of the event), the coolest thing happened. That night I thought, "I should check Widowed Village." That turned out to be fortuitous: a friend had messaged me there saying a widow in my area was driving all the way there the next day. Also fortuitous: that same widow, Beth, came into the chat room shortly thereafter. We started chatting, and pretty soon we'd agreed that she'd pick me up in the morning. All I had to do was pay for a tank of gas. So that is what we did...and we had a good time in the car getting to know each other. Plus--no missing any part of the event. So cool!

Here are some of the highlights/things I remember most from this Camp:

• The Widowed Village gathering on Thursday night, which I'm so glad I got to attend. After the previous Camp, I realized there were a bunch of WV people I hadn't met...and only after the fact did I also learn they'd had a gathering! So it was good to connect in person with more of them this time.
• Debra Morrison is awesome. Well, I knew that already. Her session was about how passive investing is better than active investing (something else I knew already). But what I really loved about it was seeing how Debra speaks to and looks out for those who like her are widowed but who may not be financially savvy...and who other less-principled financial advisors might prey on. If I ever decide to get over my wimpiness about money, Debra's wisdom is the first place I'll turn.
• Audrey Pellicano's session Healthy Living After Loss. A couple of things, both unexpected, from this session stand out: first was how the guided imagery she led us through affected me. I'm half skeptical/half open to stuff like that, but--damn, this made the emotions well up so strong and so fast, it floored me. For some reason I tend think that at 8+ years out, I'm not going to get "so" emotional about it anymore. Wrong. Second was how I have started to think I should take up yoga, after I felt so...loose and, I don't know, different--in a good way--after the few yoga moves she had us do. Me, considering yoga. Whoa.
  
  

  

  (Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

• Michele's (always-excellent) keynote address. This time the theme was: Instead of thinking of life after widowhood as "Plan B," choose to create a "new Plan A." Keep your arms open to life. Can be so hard to do, but...so necessary.
  
  

  

  (Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

• The unexpectedly-different-this-time roundtable discussion for those Widowed and Not Legally Married. Usually we have a more facilitated discussion, but this time we just went around and told our stories. Also different: I'd only met one of the people in that room before. While I'm never glad when there are new unwedded widows, it was good to get to know those people.
• Becoming friends with some of those unwedded widows, especially Tanya Villanueva Tepper. Tanya's fiance Sergio Villanueva was a firefighter who was killed on 9/11.
  
  
  
• Tanya's session about grief over time. Tanya was one of several people that documentary filmmakers followed for several years after 9/11. They made the film Rebirth. She was able to get just her portions of the film put into a single clip, which she showed in the session. I don't have words adequate to describe the effect it had on me. The emotion welled up so strong that I was a mess for a couple hours afterwards; in fact I had to leave early from the session following it and go lay down for awhile. Simply profound.
  
  
  
• Chatting with Steve Cunningham and Veronica King Cunningham and attending their session Love in the Aftermath (which incidentally is also the name of Steve's blog). Steve and Vee (as she is commonly called) are one of the couples who help me have hope for finding love again.
  
  
  
• Meeting Jodi Hutchinson, an intuitive health consultant. We had a great conversation of just sharing our stories, and she affirmed my thinking about a health condition I believe I have (I'll be blogging about that soon).
• The banquet (where this happened).
  
  

  

  (Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

• And, as always...connecting with other widows!--renewing existing friendships and making new ones. Here's me and my new friend Orla Green. She's from Ireland, has 12 (!) children, and is both a riot and an absolute sweetheart:
  
  
  

But the most different thing of all was: I detected a shift in my feelings about Camp Widow...not to the negative, mind you! I think it's just that I don't need it in quite the same way I once did. I started noticing this shift when I realized toward the end that, while I didn't want it to be over, I wasn't devastated that it was over.

Do you know how weird all of that is?

Anyway, at the very least, I know that I need to not just "take" from Camp Widow anymore. It's beyond time to start giving back. (I'm already working on one way to do that; so stay tuned!) 

I'm excited that I'm finally to the point where I know that I can be of real service to others in this community. New Plan A, indeed.

"I Want to Live"

Saturday night at Camp Widow means one thing: time for the banquet. We doll ourselves up, we put on the fancy, and we celebrate our strength, celebrate that we've made it this far.

At the banquet with my friends and widow sisters Beth and Judy.

And there's a dance floor and a DJ...who by the way is instructed to play no slow songs. For one Camp, they happened to hire a live band, and for whatever reason there was no instruction on what to play or at least not to play. Which was unfortunate, because they played At Last, and there were people running out of the room crying. That had been some people's wedding song. Hmmm, can you say "sensitivity fail"? But--I digress.

At one point during this Camp's banquet, I was dancing near my friend Barbara and a woman named Betty, who I hadn't really had a chance to interact with yet. All of a sudden, she says to Barbara, "I feel old," and when Barbara asked how old she is, she gave an answer in the late 60s.

A few minutes later, Betty and I were still dancing near each other, and she said something that I couldn't quite make out, so I asked her to repeat. She said, "I want to live."

I want to live.

The tears welled up instantly...as they still do every time I think of it. All I could do was say, "I don't even know you, but now I have to hug you," and she let me. Further evidence, by the way, of how the bond between widowed people can form--instantly, strong, and very deep.

I mean, how easy would it be for her to give up? To give up on life, to give up on ever enjoying it again. (It's a temptation I am all too familiar with.) But no, something in her has risen up and refused to take the easy-but-ultimately-self-destructive path. Just...wow.

Talk about inspiring!

Dear Mayor

San Diego mayor Bob Filner has announced that he will declare June 28 (the first day of Camp Widow West 2013) Camp Widow Day! While that might not sound like the biggest deal, it could very well have positive outcomes not immediately apparent. (You'll see what I mean below.)

Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation, which puts on Camp Widow, has asked those who've benefitted from it to e-mail their thanks to the mayor. I have done so...and I thought I'd share that letter here as well:

Dear Mayor Filner,

Thank you so much for declaring June 28 Camp Widow Day!

I love that Camp Widow is getting this kind of recognition not just because this event has come to mean so much to me but also because: the more people who know about widowed support, the better.

Michele Neff Hernandez, founder of Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation and creator of Camp Widow, has spoken publicly about how she continually battles the stereotype that many in the media have regarding the widowed and discussing widowhood: that widows are solely little old ladies with rocking chairs, knitting, and grandchildren--and that talking about widowhood is only depressing. In a sense, one can hardly blame them: our culture simply does not deal well or even much at all with death and grief.

But here's the thing: it doesn't just happen to elderly women. It doesn't just happen to women. It doesn't just happen to married people (I myself am an unwedded widow). It doesn't just happen to straight people. Far too often people in these situations have their loss minimized and their relationship dismissed...as if somehow it doesn't mean as much just because one of these other factors was true. As one who's been told over and over that I am not really a widow because my fiance and I were not married when he passed, I could not appreciate Soaring Spirits' inclusiveness more.

And yes, clearly, a depressing thing has happened to us--among the most depressing things that can happen to a person. But the end of our partner's life doesn't have to mean the end of our own as well...as much as it can feel like it, for a long time. That is where Camp Widow comes in: to tell those on this journey, "You are not alone. Others are walking this road with you. And those of us who are farther along, we'll light the candle of hope for you until you can light it for yourself." That is precisely what Camp Widow was instrumental in doing for me. Besides which, the bond between widowed people is like nothing else. When you've all survived the worst, when you can speak your loved one's name without worry that the other person will be uncomfortable, when you "get" each other and don't have to explain...well, that's like gold.

Mayor Filner, your declaration can help to dispel these myths and to spread the word that help and hope are out there. and for that I thank you very much. As far as I'm concerned, if even one person who could benefit from it hears about Camp Widow (and other forms of widowed support) through this declaration, then every single bit of effort that went into the declaration will be worth it.

I have family who have lived in San Diego for many years, so I've been to your fair city many times--and love it. Now...I love it even more.

Photo source: City of San Diego - http://www.sandiego.gov/home/graphics/photomayor.jpg, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=30688829

The Camp Widow 2012 Message Releases

At Camp Widow East this year, we did something that was new at the time, a message release. In our conference bags they'd given all of us a glass heart, along with a small piece of paper and a piece of string to tie them together. We wrote whatever we wanted on the paper, wrapped it around the heart, and tied it with the string. Then after the banquet on Saturday night, we all took our hearts with us as we headed out past the pool and down the wooden sidewalk that lead right onto the beach. It was great: we were all in our finery, most of us barefoot in the sand (having left our shoes under a lamp by the pool), with glow sticks around our necks (so no one would get lost...genius!). And then, individually or in groups, standing back or wading in, at whatever moment worked for us, we hurled our message-encased glass hearts into the ocean. It was a great moment.

The thing is, what I remember about it, more than I remember the moment I threw that glass heart into the sea, is that I walked into and lived this experience with my beautiful new friend Kris, which is a good thing, but also that I was a little distracted--by laughing with Kris, by thinking about a CW attendee that I'd started to admire (and no, I'm not going to tell you who it is). It's not my biggest regret in life or anything (ha!), but I kinda wish I'd focused a little more, gotten more "into" the experience.

That was Camp Widow East.

At Camp Widow West, we again had a glass heart in our bag and were told there'd be a message release, but this time it it was going to be on the terrace. In other words: the San Diego Marriott Marquis and Marina, while it is near the water, is not right on the beach. So I kept thinking, "How are we gonna do this message release? We can't throw glass hearts from a few stories up!"

And, once again, I had paid a little less attention than I now wish I had. (Geez, what is my problem?!?) I hadn't read the note was inside the bag containing the glass heart, explaining the ritual--in truth, I hadn't known there was a note in there--so I didn't know that a) there were actually 3 hearts in there (and 3 small, blank pieces of paper) or b) that we were supposed to write one of the following on each: something you want to get rid of, something you were hoping to gain from Camp Widow, and something you're grateful for. Someone explained it to me right before we walked to the terrace, so I quickly wrote mine out and hurried to join the crowd already gathered on the terrace, listening to Michele explain how it was going to work.

It turns out they had 3 fire pits set up on the terrace, in a straight line but spaced apart, and we would walk to each one and toss one of the wrapped hearts into the fire by turn: in the first one, the thing we wanted to get rid of; in the second, the thing we wanted from Camp Widow, and in the third, the thing we're grateful for. 

Though I'd gone into it in a hurried, distracted way again, this time...I was unprepared for how powerfully this ritual would affect me.

Michele had asked everyone to do this quietly, so it could be a contemplative experience. And we did. It was amazing: a few hundred people, all virtually silent, as we carried out our personal ritual within the larger one, as we huddled in groups just taking in the event or went off by ourselves. I loved that silence. 

I'm not going to name what I wrote on that first piece of paper; suffice it to say it's a negative emotion. And as I waited behind others at the first pit, as I stared at that fire, as I dropped my wrapped heart into it, all I could think was, "I really do want to get rid of this." The tears came up from so deep and they came so fast and so strong, I was caught off guard. 

I can't remember exactly what I wrote on the second paper, but I know it had to do with the connection, the friendship, even the love we share as widows. Those 3 words are points along a continuum; they're all part of the same thing: the bond that the widowed share. It is like no other bond I have ever experienced. It's practically instant, it's very deep, and it is incredibly strong. Even for a widowed person I had a connection with but not even friendship yet, I would go to the mat for them if they had the need and I had the means to help.

I do believe I wrote "friendship" on the third paper. (Did I repeat myself from the 2nd paper? That's unlike me, but while I can't remember exactly, that's what my brain is telling me.) I do believe friendship is what I was most grateful for in that moment. Being surrounded by so many widowed people, many who have genuinely become my friends...I was and am so grateful for them and for the people and forces in my life that took me from a relatively alone-feeling place to Camp Widow the first time to meet all of them and become a part of their lives and they a part of mine.

And the spontaneous hugs when one of them sees your tears...No words necessary.

...except: Thank you, Tom. ♥



What I Learned at Camp (Widow West '12)

Some of the unwedded widows at CWW '12: Renee, Melanie, Brandi, Laura, and me

It's hard to believe I've gone to my 3rd Camp Widow already. (You can read about my CW '11 experience here and my CWE '12 experiences here, here, and here.)

Besides the saga that was just getting there, the weekend was generally awesome. Here are some of the things I learned (or was reminded of) at Camp:

• I'll remember more from a session if I actually bring my laptop with me to take notes. On Friday it was in my room...just not in my hands.
• It's OK to leave a session and slip into another one if the first one isn't doin' it for ya. This is one of those things I already knew but was reminded of. And for future Camps I'm gonna give myself even more permission to just not go to any session during a given time period if I'm not feelin' any of 'em. Actually I've done that once already, and I enjoyed it. The whole experience is something I'm doing for myself, after all. There's no requirement to attend a given session. There's no need to force anything.
• During the social times, while it's great to reconnect with friends from previous Camps, we can't forget to incorporate new attendees. During the welcome reception, a new friend told me it seemed rather clique-ish. This is not good. It's certainly the opposite of what the Camp Widow organizers are going for. Not everyone is a social butterfly like me, and I think it behooves us more-experienced Campers to make a point to seek out and include new ones.
• Michele Neff Hernandez (Founding President and Executive Director of the Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation and creator of Camp Widow) led a session called "What the Grinch Taught Me About Love." The big idea I carried away from that session was: Not only are there great men out there (which Ron first helped me see), but there are great men who can and will treat my widowhood with a great deal of sensitivity and respect. And some of these men are actually not widowed themselves!
  
  I could name numerous examples of this, as I now know many remarried widows. But here I'll just mention Michael Dare, Michele's husband. Michael is the CWW photographer and as such he regularly travels to and helps with an event where he hears--over and over--his wife talk about how much she loved and still loves her dead husband. And he basically thinks it's ridiculous that Michele would do anything but continue to honor the man who meant so much to her. Can I just say? The man is a gem. Anyway--and this is huge--men like Michael give me hope.
• The big idea I took away from Debra Morrison's session was: I can think about the things that already give me confidence--things I do well, have succeeded at, that I like about myself--and use those things to raise my overall confidence so I can better handle whatever comes next. Debra said: "If we can search for ways to embellish our confidence we will be stronger at everything." That's so cool. On one level this could seem like an obvious thing, but this was a new way of thinking about it for me.
• I attended Deborah Tucker's session about PTSD. I don't think I have PTSD, but don't think I won't carefully review the comparison chart (grief/bereavement to traumatic grief to PTSD) to see if I'm right. Even more valuable, as it turned out, than the session itself was a conversation I had with Debra and another (retired) therapist later. This was on Saturday night. We talked a bit about a kind of therapy called EMDR. The next morning at the closing breakfast, that second therapist gave me a bunch of really helpful information about this therapy, and I am definitely going to look into it. 

There's still more I learned, but I'm saving it for a future post or two. All in all a great Camp!

Oh, and I didn't just learn stuff; I had fun too!

That's Taryn Davis (Founder and Executive Director of the
American Widow Project) as Darth Vader and Tom Schmidt with me
(Official Camp Widow photo courtesy of Soaring Spirits International.)

Just Getting to Camp Widow West Was a Challenge!—or: How to Succeed While Failing

Last weekend was Camp Widow West 2012. I'll blog more about it later, but first I gotta tell you about the saga that is: the story of my just getting to San Diego.

My flight schedule was Columbus to Minneapolis, Minneapolis to San Diego. (There is no direct Columbus to San Diego, and in the ~18 years I've lived here, there never has been. I fail to understand this.) If everything had gone as planned, I wouldn't have landed 'til almost midnight San Diego time, and that would've kind of sucked, but hey, I stay up late every night, so no big deal, right? Oh, if only.

Before I got to the airport, I checked the flight status, and it was listed as on time. (Delta has an app. for that; thank you, Delta. By the way it has a lot of other great features, like the boarding pass right on your phone--love that. Highly recommended if you ever fly Delta.) But after I got to the gate, it slowly dawned on me that they were announcing a delay. (Despite the fact that the announcement was about my flight, it didn't immediately catch my attention for whatever reason.) The plane that would've taken us to Minneapolis was delayed getting to Columbus because of weather, and we were now scheduled to take off almost 2 hours later than we would have otherwise. And if I'd gotten on that delayed flight, I would've had less than 20 minutes to make my connection in Minneapolis. The Columbus gate agent said we were in danger of missing our connection if it took off before 10:30. Mine was scheduled to take off at 10:00.

The Columbus gate agent said something like, "If you don't want to wait in this line [which was already quite long, and of course I wasn't in it], you can come get one of these Need Help cards, and an agent will come speak with you." I'd never heard of a "Need Help card" before; it must be something new Delta's trying. And wouldn't you think everyone would want one of those cards, 'cause no one likes to wait, really? 'Course, if everyone got one, they'd still have to wait! Anyway, I picked one up, and the front said just (you guessed it) "Need Help?" and on the back were all the ways...you could get help yourself! (Such is the state of customer service these days.)

So I called the phone number that was listed, and the first option was "If you are in an airport, press 1." Bingo. Except--the woman I spoke with told me that there were no later flights from Minneapolis or from any other hub (on that or on any other airline) or if there were, they were all sold out. She suggested my getting on a plane the next day, flying Columbus to Atlanta and then to San Diego. Uh...no. My first CWW session started at 11AM on Friday San Diego time. There was no way, if I could help it, that I was going to miss any part of CWW, much less the whole first day. At one point I said to her (animated voice), "I can't miss what I'm going to! I just can't miss it!" I'm thinking, "You just don't understand." I didn't actually play the widow card, though it probably wouldn't have done me any good anyway. So--I decided to risk it in Minneapolis. I mean, it is my hometown so I know the airport really well (although--it is constantly changing, it seems like). And I'm not unwilling to run through an airport like a fool if I have to. And of course, worst case scenario, if I miss the connection and get stranded, I can always call my sister and say, "Hey, can I stay at your house tonight?" lol.

Right after I hung up, a man sitting nearby said to me, "Hey, there's a flight to Los Angeles tonight; it leaves from that gate right over there....I heard you yelling at that woman, so I thought I'd mention it." Well, I wasn't really yelling (honest!), but anyway. I was like, "Reeeally!" He goes, "Yeah." So I called the number back and got rebooked on that flight. I walked to the other gate, where the agent printed my new boarding pass and rechecked my bag. I then walked back over to the guy and thanked him. I again did not play the widow card; ergo, he doesn't even know just how much his sharing that little piece of information means to me.

While waiting for my new flight, I used my laptop to reserve a rental car in LA. Because I didn't plan on keeping it past that night, I made it a one-way. This cost me an (unexpected, of course) $125.

We landed in LA at about 11:40 LA time, and it was midnight before I got to the Avis counter. The Avis guy practically tried to trick me into buying insurance and in the process was slightly rude to me, but I caught the difference when I looked at the total and turned that down.

I have turn-by-turn navigation on my phone (thank you, Google and Android). It got me to Myrtle Beach and back, so I had every confidence it would work here. I even turned down a GPS unit at the Avis counter.

So I went to my car, figured out where everything was and adjusted the mirrors and stuff, typed the San Diego airport (where I'd return the car) into my Navigation app, and start following its directions. Soon I was on the 405 South.

Well, naturally, I did not know that the 405 South closed somewhere in/south of LA. It was one of those deals where they reduced it one lane at a time, before siphoning us all off onto some road called Seal Beach Blvd. I've never been to LA in my life, so I have no idea where I am; I'm just following what the GPS is continuing to tell me to do and what all the other cars are doing. Yes, it's a freakin' backup--at ~1 in the morning.

So there I was, on Seal Beach Blvd. in Los Angeles at ~1AM, inching along, at a mind-numbingly slow pace, with all the other cars. I didn't realize 'til later that all we were doing was getting to the next cross street, which would take us back to the 405, south of the closure. I also didn't realize until it was too late that if I'd gotten one lane over (instead of staying in the slower, left-most lane), I'd have gotten to that cross street a lot sooner. Of course, I had no way of knowing any of this.

At some point while I'm on Seal Beach Blvd., my phone beeps low battery at me. Of course. I said this of my previous phone and I say it of my current one (thanks a lot, LG and Samsung): "There's nothing for the life of my phone's battery quite like, oh, not using it." And of course, when you're using the GPS, it's constant communication with the towers, so...there ya go. I didn't have a car charger with me 'cause I hadn't expected to need one. The only one I owned at the time didn't work anyway! So, even though I was driving (it was really slow, remember?), I found my laptop case, pulled the laptop out of it, found the phone cord, and connected the two--'cause the laptop'll charge the battery. So, for now...whew. Finally, I did get back onto the 405.

At some point after I did so--in Mission Viejo, as it turned out--my laptop battery died. (Side note: Mission Viejo always reminds me of Greg Louganis, as he trained there for the 1984 Olympics, during which I, unaware of his orientation, pined for him. Good times.) So now, of course, I had NO directions. I wouldn't make it like that, so I stopped at a gas station. I went in and grabbed a bottled water to buy and said to the attendant, "I bet you don't have any actual maps anymore?" He said, "No, we do." So we were about to figure out which one would be the best to get me to the San Diego airport, when I said, "Unless you're willing to let me plug in my laptop long enough to call it up, and I'll write it down." He said sure, so I went and got the laptop, he plugged it in behind the counter (he was really nice!)...and the Verizon network decided not to connect me in that moment. He looked it up on his phone, and I wrote it down from there. I bought something extra from him 'cause he was so nice. At one point during this stop, I thought for a second I might've locked the rental car keys inside it. Thank God, that did not happen.

So after a bunch more driving, including getting onto the 5 South, I'm in San Diego. It is past 3 in the morning by this time. The street in San Diego that takes one from the 5 to the Airport is called Sassafrass. Like many freeways, the 5 has signs letting you know of the next 3, usually, exits coming up. Well, wouldn't you know, Sassafrass is not on any such sign. It was on a 'here's Sassafrass' type sign; it just wasn't on a 'Sassafrass is coming up' type sign. The reason I was looking for it on that kind of sign was so that I'd know to get off ahead of time so I could get gas and not have to pay the $9/gallon or whatever that Avis would've charged me to fill it back up. (As it turned out I might've been ahead, if only in reduced stress, if I'd paid it but...of course...I had no way of knowing what was still to come.)

Suddenly, there's Sassafrass. So I get off the freeway, and now...I have NO idea where the nearest gas station is. Can't call anyone or look it up on my phone or laptop 'cause...right, they're both dead. Again, it's 3-something in the morning. Almost every place is closed. The streets are practically deserted. Plus, I'm a woman alone in a (mostly) unfamiliar town. Yeesh. But I figure, I'll just keep driving. I had no concrete plan at this point. Obviously.

Before too long I saw a guy on the sidewalk. I have no idea why he was doing this at that hour, but he had a canister on his back and was spraying down the sidewalk. Though at that moment I didn't even wonder, "Why is he doing that right now?" I just saw a person! I pulled over and rolled down my window. Seeing this, he stepped over. When I asked if he knew where the nearest gas station was, he had to think about it (not a good sign) and then said, "I think if you go up to Laurel and take a right, it's ahead on the right-hand side, but I'm not really sure of that." Oh great. But it was worth a shot, so I said I'd try it.

Well, do I even have to tell you I was tired? I had already essentially stayed up all night. Three o'clock San Diego time is 6:00 Columbus time, sooo...yeah. As such I drove a few blocks without even looking at the street signs. At some point I realized, "I've probably missed Laurel." I decided to just keep driving.

Before too long, I got to an intersection where, off to my left, I could see the sign for the hotel. I thought if I could just check in now, extend my car rental reservation by a few hours (with someone giving me a ride later), then I could be done with this nightmare.

I pulled into the hotel, parked, and went in. I told the front desk agent that I was going to check in but first needed a phone so I could extend my rental reservation. She wanted to look me up first, which was fine, but she looked up both my and my roommate's names and didn't find us. I said, "This is the [Marriott] Marquis and Marina, right?" She said, "No, this is the Hyatt." Ughhh. So embarassing.

Fortunately, the Marriott is just next door. So I got back in the car, drove to the Marriott, and repeated the same thing to that front desk agent. She was very nice. A credit to Marriott, actually. She looked up Avis' number, dialed it, and handed me the phone. That whole interaction was (of course!) with an automated system, but "extend your reservation" was one of the first options. I gave the system all the information it asked me, guessing on what time I'd be able to bring it back. When we got done with all of that, automated lady told me it'd be $137 on top of what I'd already paid. NOT happening. I immediately handed the phone back to the gal and said "Hang this up." She then looked up how to get to the nearest gas station and then the airport and printed out directions and a map for both. I took them and headed to the car...and once I was there, realized, "How am I gonna get back here?"

When I went back and asked that...my memory is a little fuzzy on this point, but I think she may've asked me if someone could come pick me up. Um, yeah, at 4 in the morning, right. I asked if someone could just drive over there with me and give me a ride back. "We don't offer that service." Ughhh. So she called a cab company for me.

After I set that up, I drove to the gas station and filled up--another (unexpected, of course) $25, thank you. When I drove out of the gas station, I didn't realize I was turning the wrong way onto the oncoming side of the street. WOOPS! I realized it immediately, though, and snaked back into the gas station and went out the other way. The airport and Avis counter were just down the street.

While I was waiting to check in my car, the cab was pulling up. I asked the Avis guy (while he was helping someone else) if he needed anything from me, and he said no, so I went out and got into the cab. He delivered me to the Marriott...where I checked in and FINALLY got to my room...at past 4 in the morning.

And that, my friends, is how much Camp Widow means to me.

The Widowed Blog Slam

The other Camp Widow East session (besides Lessons in Loss and Living) that most stands out in my mind was the Widowed Blog Slam. You know, like a poetry slam, only with blogs by widowed people. When I first heard we were doing this, I was like, "I am SO there!" Really cool.

The session was by turns funny, frustrating, unexpectedly moving, and rewarding.

Funny. Most people wouldn't expect anything on a widow's blog to be funny, but we widows know different. Anyway, watch Robin (AKA SupaFresh Widow) reading her post "Junk mail for the dead, or, YOU CANNOT BE TURNED DOWN!"

Frustrating. I'd incorrectly figured there'd be a laptop there for people to pull their blog up on and read from, so I didn't bring mine. I was having issues with it anyway but when I realized I needed one, I figured I could go get it, plug it in, make SURE it didn't unplug, and be fine. So I left (in the middle of a very emotional post by Brenda, by the way), went back to my room, got the laptop (and, since the battery wasn't working, turned it off in the process, despite Windows telling me not to, as it chose that moment to start installing updates), came back, plugged it in near the front of the room, and sat to again wait my turn. As soon as my turn came, I picked up the laptop, and...the cord fell out, causing, again, the laptop to shut off. Thankfully, another widow lent me her laptop (and Internet connection*). Again, my thanks go to Robin.

Unexpectedly moving. Honestly I hadn't counted on how much emotion could happen in this session. I'm sure it should've occurred to me. It just didn't. But then Brandi read a very emotional post, including talking about Greg being welcomed into the arms of Jesus. Instant tear well-up.

Rewarding. In reading from my other blog, Loving From the Inside Out, I was able to share the personal mission that has grown out of my loss. I read the inaugural post, What This is All About, so everyone would understand the mission and how it came to be, and then one of my all-time favorites, B is for Beauty. Later, a few people separately how much they appreciated "what I'm doing." It's always heart warming to know that others are also on board.

All in all, a great session. Sure hope we can do it at all future Camp Widows!

*No, the (uber-expensive) Myrtle Beach Marriott Resort & Spa at Grand Dunes does not have free wi-fi. Seriously?!?

Learned Optimism

At Camp Widow East one of the sessions I attended was called Lessons in Loss and Living, which frankly I felt some resistance to but attended anyway because it seemed the most appropriate for me of the ones in that time block. See, I sometimes feel like the message around "lessons" in this context is: "Well, as long as you can find the lesson in it, that makes it all OK!" Gag.

But as it turned out, this was probably the best session I attended (right up there with the Widowed Blog Slam--more about that one in a future post). [Update: Here's that future post.] The presenter, Dr. Michele Reiss, who's written a book by the same name, is a psychotherapist who works with the terminally ill and the grieving. Incidentally, she worked with the late Randy Pausch (and his family), he of The Last Lecture fame.

What I remember most from what she said was when she talked about the spectrum of optimism and pessimism. A "complete" pessimist, someone who's all the way over on one side of the spectrum--their glass is empty. A "complete" optimist, someone who's all the way over on the other side of the spectrum--their glass is overflowing. She said that in reality, most of us live somewhere in between. She pointed out that when a glass is half empty, it is also half full. She said something to the effect of: "You don't negate the negative, but if you can also let in the positive, that will give you more leverage to deal with the challenges in your life."

"You don't negate the negative"--I appreciate this so much. Because, as I've said before, when it seems that the message is: I need to just "switch" from the negative to the positive, I get pretty annoyed. A) I don't think it's that easy (it may be that simple; it is not that easy) and B) I feel that that message can, in effect, be minimizing of what the person has gone through.

On one of her handouts, Michele put the following:

Key Ingredients for "Learned Optimism":

1.  Your ability to be aware of positives in your life, despite co-existing negatives.
2. Choosing to see adversity as a challenge/opportunity, not an immobilizing obstacle.
3. Taking time to appreciate the small pleasures of the present moment.
4. Remembering that whatever hardships you encounter, there will be others whose struggles are greater.

The very fact that she calls it "learned optimism" is great. It acknowledges that some of us are still on the pessimism side of the spectrum--way closer to "glass empty" than we would like. So that is very validating. And it posits that one can change in this regard. Not "switch," but take steps. And that strikes me as very realistic.

At this point I feel a lot better about numbers 1 and 3 than I do about 2, and have mixed feelings about 4:

1. I can totally see how making yourself more aware of the positives in your life can help. In fact, I've started to do that before. Honestly, the biggest challenge for me here may be actually making this a habit. Forming just about any healthy habit is so hard! I haven't written in my I Love Me book (discussed in the post I just linked to) in ages.
2. I read "Choosing to see adversity as a challenge/opportunity" and think, "Ugh. Seriously?" I struggle with this one. This one's even part of the Christian message."See it as a blessing!" ("it" being whatever horrible thing that's happened) is the idea. "Count it all joy...when you encounter trials of various kinds," Paul said. And all I can think is:

   Are you kidding?!? Exactly how is my fiancé's death supposed to be a blessing, hm? Oh, 'cause someday I can help people? (Well, I will help others, 'cause there's no way I'm going through all of this pain for nothing.) But--I didn't ask for this. I wasn't looking for a f*cking mission. I was in love, thank you very much.
   
   And if I seem angry...Damn right, I'm angry.

   Now, "not an immobilizing obstacle"--that I can see. Emotionally I often feel like my life will be "this dark" forever. But intellectually I can give assent to the fact that if I truly think any particular challenge will prevent me from moving...then it probably will.
3. This one also makes sense to me...and frankly seems pretty easy. If I'm, say, enjoying a cup of coffee, making a point to note how good it is and that I'm deriving pleasure from it...can make for a good moment in my day...that I might not've acknowledged otherwise.
4. What I think when I hear this is, "Don't compare one person's pain to another's; pain is pain." But wait...struggle isn't exactly the same thing as pain, though I'm sure there's some overlap. In any case I do think we can all observe situations others are experiencing that we're not and think, "Well, I'm  glad I don't have to deal with that." And I don't think that's illegitimate.

So as I see it, my next steps are to start doing the easier ones, 1, 3, and 4. (Why try to start with the hardest one? I'll probably have to work on that one in therapy!) Or...start again I guess! Now if I can just make gratitude/positives journalling a habit...I'll be in business.

P.S. Special thanks to Robin the Supa Freshwidow for her contribution to this post.

Camp Widow East 2012: The Glass is Both Half Empty and Half Full

One of the sessions I attended at Camp Widow East unwittingly provided the "theme" for the weekend for me, namely: The glass is both half empty and half full. More about the session it arose out of (and others) in a future post.

The glass is half empty...

• I got a late start driving there (and went the wrong way for a while), so I didn't get to the hotel 'til about 2:30 in the morning. Yes, I drove from Ohio to Myrtle Beach, SC. I've always told myself that if I had to drive home (to Minnesota) from Ohio, I could do it. At least I now know that to be true. Hey, the glass isn't completely empty.
• That weekend the North Carolina National Guard Association was also having their convention in the hotel. This means that for all of Friday and part of Saturday, in the same hallway we had to traverse to go from the lobby to the session rooms, there were tables set up, selling military hardware. I found it all very triggering (no pun intended!). I mean here we are, widows, parading past weaponry--you do the math. I did talk to two military widows about this. One said she herself has worked in the Army for a long time and it didn't phase her; the other pointed out that that stuff saves a lot of lives too. Good point--and I'm glad it didn't affect everyone the way it did me. I know that the Camp Widow organizers can't control what else is going on in the hotel. I just wish more physical separation of the two groups could have been achieved.
• On Friday night I learned that a fellow unwedded widow, who I've become online friends with and who was set to come and room with me, wasn't coming. I'd been counting on her coming not only for part of the room fee (which she's paying after all) but also to pal around with her...and just to meet her! From the limited interaction we've had so far, I can tell we are kindred spirits. Anyway, honestly, for the first few hours after I learned she wasn't coming, all I could focus on was how it affected me. :( Because even when I'm in a large group of very supportive people, I suck at creating a smaller community for myself. (This subject is definitely big enough for its own post.) It wasn't until I told someone else she wasn't coming and they said "bummer for her" that I realized...oh, right.  :sigh:
• The weekend was almost a complete technological fail. I forgot to bring the USB-to-electric converter for my cell phone's charger cord. And since my phone eats battery life like it's goin' out of proverbial style, I had no cell phone capability most of the time I wasn't in my room (I could still charge it through my laptop). But besides not having the time on me, this meant, essentially, that I couldn't live-tweet Camp Widow. (Such a first-world problem, I know.) Not a big deal.
  
  And it really was nothing next to the fact that my laptop, which had been (I thought!) safely ensconced in my suitcase in the trunk, decided to use this occasion to break the battery. It's not that it won't hold a charge, I believe; it appears the battery won't all-the-way connect to the body of the laptop and also won't come back out. Therefore, whenever the electric cord falls out (which, since this is a PC and not a Mac, it is wont to do), the puter shuts off. So annoying. This too would've proven to be no big deal, if it hadn't been for one session, the Widowed Blog Slam, where I intended to read a couple of posts from my other blog. Fortunately, Robin (AKA Fresh Widow) had her laptop there and Internet-connected...and let me borrow it. Blessings to her!

And the glass is also half full...

• The hotel and location were sublime. I mean, it's the Myrtle Beach Marriott Resort & Spa at Grand Dunes.
  
  
  

  source: marriott.com

  
   And it's on the beach.
  

  

  The hotel was to my left and behind me when I took this.

• On Saturday morning I had one of the best breakfasts of my life, certainly the best pancakes of my life, in one of the hotel's restaurants. The number of blueberries you see on top was majorly eclipsed by the number inside. This breakfast was worth the $13 I paid for it.
  

  

  
  

• The Welcome Reception was fun. We did a new icebreaker this year called "15 Seconds." It was set up sorta like speed dating, only it was just widows and widowers introducing themselves and answering questions that had been written on cards placed on the tables. Everyone who participated got a ticket and afterwards they raffled off prizes (Amazon.com gift cards and such).

• On Saturday there was a block where none of the sessions appealed to me, so I took a walk on the beach and got a manicure. I don't get to be at the ocean often, and it's been over 20 years since I saw the Atlantic. And in any case, it was just beautiful. I got a lot of great pictures, I collected shells.... The manicure, which you'll see evidence of in the next paragraph, was one of the best I've ever had. No visible chips (with regular polish) for over a week.
  

  

  
  

• I (finally) decided to get a widow's ring. Since I've started wearing it--while there is a slight trigger (I never "had" to get used to always wearing a ring before), it has helped strengthen my identity as a widow. And it's a tangible, visible symbol that's always with me--like Ron is always with me.

  

  "Always in my heart & soul" - ring by Expressions of Grief

• Among all the other amazing widows I met, I met and became friends with Taryn Davis, founder of the American Widow Project. If she's reading this, I'm sure she's shaking her head at me for this paragraph, but whatever. She rocks. I'm a huge supporter of our military and as a widow, my heart is with all other widow/ers, including my military-widowed sisters and brothers.
  

  

  
  

• The banquet on Saturday night was really fun. A chance to dress up--and dance, a DJ who totally "gets it" (I mean, he played "Sexy Back!"), and amazing company. 








Michele Neff Hernandez is the Founding President and Executive Director
of the Soaring Spirits Loss Foundation, which puts on Camp Widow.

• There were sessions for those Widowed and Not Legally Married and those Widowed With No Children. As one who fits into both categories, I'm glad to see these situations receive specific attention.

  

  
  

• There were some other really great sessions. (And this time, I'll write one or more posts about them, I promise. Update: You can find those posts here and here.)
• Most of all, it's Camp Widow! The benefits far outweigh the annoying stuff. This time, the benefits I felt the most, the best benefits by far, are: 
  • Further strengthening of my identity as a widow. Regardless of whether others "agree" or not or understand or not, I am a widow. While I was robbed of the chance to say "yes [I will marry you]" and "I do" to Ron and have never owned his ring, the one I intended to spend the rest of my life with died, so I qualify for this club that none of us wanted to join.
  • Experiencing again the bond that is like no other.
  • Affirmation: "Your 'voice' is so important [that may be a paraphrase]...You're such a great addition to this community" -Robin. "You're so real...I love you already" -Kris (with me in the photo below). "The honor was all mine and seeing your passion for your love and wanting to help others was inspiring ♥ I have no doubt you...are going to do so much..." -Taryn.
  • Instant life-long friendships. 

    

    
    

So the glass might be both half empty and half full, but at Camp Widow, what it's half full of is something amazing.