~ notes from an uncommon journey ~

A New Car and a New Friend

So my car essentially died earlier this month. I say "essentially" because, while it could have been repaired, all of the needed repairs together would've cost me almost $7,000. And yeeeah, I'm not putting that kind of money into a 13-year-old car. As much as I loved that car.

The hard part about this wasn't just that it was unexpected. Or that I initially had no idea how I'd afford a new car. The hard part was also that my old car, a 2001 Honda Accord, was more than "just a car" to me. Ron and I were in that car the first time he said "I love you" to me. And while I didn't think about that every time I was in it, when I realized I might be saying goodbye to it, that was one of the first things that came to mind.

When special things happen in a place, that place takes on greater significance. It becomes part of your memories about the occasion. And you can ask anyone who has grieved the loss of a loved one; they'll tell you that certain places can trigger memories related to that person.

So when I was waiting at the dealership, Roush Honda in Westerville, Ohio, to find out what was wrong with it, and I was talking to two employees, Ericka and Bill, about my situation, I said that I had an emotional connection to that car. The reply was something like, "I'm not surprised; a lot of people do." I decided to tell them what it was. But when I went to say it, I hesitated a bit, and my expression must have changed...Ericka asked, "Was there a death?" And when I said what it was, Ericka said that "When there's a death, you can just tell." She then shared with me a loss that she is grieving, and Bill shared one that he is grieving as well.

I don't always know when it's appropriate to share this part of my story. I am keenly aware that frankly, not everyone wants to hear it or can handle it, really. But this time, I'm so glad I did, because I could share empathy with Ericka and Bill, something that would not have happened if I hadn't shared.

Well, as I mentioned, the news about the Accord was not good. It was time for a new car. And at first I didn't know what I was going to do. In addition to the financial concern, I honestly hate car shopping. But three fortunate things happened: 1) I figured out some adjustments I can make so I can afford a car payment, 2) Roush gave me a deal that will work with my budget, and 3) I had Ericka helping me through the process.

Ericka Smiley is Roush's Loyalty Exchange Coordinator. I had gotten my Accord from Roush, and she was there to help ensure that I bought from them again. She set me up with my salesman, Dave McCamon. Dave's easygoing and pleasant to work with, and I certainly have no complaints. But Ericka is the real hero of this story; she made it easier in so many ways, including staying with me the entire time that Dave and I talked about what kind of car I wanted and what kind of deal we could do. She participated in the conversation, but even if she hadn't, I was grateful for her presence. Also, she offered to let me use one of their rental cars for free while I was figuring out what I wanted to do...which was not only an awesome customer service move but also saved me a lot of money.

But what took this from a great car buying experience into the realm of a new friendship was this: The night I picked up the new car, a beautiful blue 2015 Civic, right after I signed the paperwork, Ericka gave me this:

The key is the original one; the "H" emblem and the "EX" came from the car itself.

Of course, the tears came instantly. We had bonded over our losses, but I certainly had not expected something like this.

It's pretty damn awesome when doing business turns into friendship.

Ericka: You Rock!

Me and Ericka—and my sweet new ride!

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.

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

R.I.P. Joseph "Doc Joe" Franz, June 17, 1952–January 22, 2013

source
This week I learned the devastating news that my doctor, Joseph "Doc Joe" Franz, had passed away.

Doc Joe was so much more than my doctor. Even to call him my friend isn't quite right. He was almost like a father figure in my life. He didn't just care for me medically, he cared about me personally. A line from his obituary reads, "Doc Joe was a compassionate and caring man who treated his patients as if they were family." I am here to tell you: this is true.

The first time I met Doc Joe was many years ago, when he treated me at an urgent care place. (I had a different regular doctor at the time.) I left with one of his business cards. Some time later, when I couldn't get in to see my regular doctor, I looked up Dr. Franz. I discovered he had his own practice, so I went to see him for whatever my concern was at the time. In that visit, I ended up telling him about some of the difficult things I was going through. He sat with and listened to me for half an hour, and not once did he look at the time, tell me he had other patients he had to get to, or hurry me along in any way. I left his office thinking, "I'm going to him from now on!" And I did. I had my other doctor transfer my records to his office, and he was my doctor from that day on.

We talked often about my struggles. And many times when we did, he'd use the analogy that I was lost in a forest...just trying to find my way out, to the sunshine. It was apt.

I remember how sad he was for me when Ron passed. He said something to the effect of...he'd seen me already go through so much, and things had just started looking up. Yeah, no kidding.

And I can't forget the day I told him that I suspected I was hypothyroid. As I've said before, he surprised me with how open he was to listening to my symptoms and the research I had done. Being on thyroid replacement therapy has done a lot of good for me, and I owe that in large part to him.

I've already thought many times about how I can honor his memory. What can I do specifically to pay tribute to his spirit? But it pretty quickly came to me: I can determine even more to finally, fully find my way to the sunshine.

My life is forever enriched for having known Doc Joe. There will never be another like him.

* * *

Doc Joe: You were a bright spot in my life. You cared for me and you cared about me. I can never thank you enough for that. I promise you: I will find my way to the sunshine. The rays have started to peak through (thanks in part to you), but there's still work to be done. I'll remember you when yet again I'm tempted to give it up. Someday, I'll be dancing in the clearing, bathed in the sunlight...and I'll remember you then too.

Tell Ron how much I miss him.

I Will Hold the Space For You


I will hold the space for you...

When the dark days come
And leave their everlasting mark
When past hurts
Color your everyday...
I will hold the space for you.

When small things
Unlock large wounds
When large things
Become just too much...
I will hold the space for you.

When others crowd the air
With words
When no words
Could possibly do...
I will hold the space for you.

When they offer
Unsolicited advice
Uncalled for platitudes
Unfitting verses...
I will hold the space for you.

When nothing will do
But strong coffee
And a thorough unburdening
And a listening ear...
I will hold the space for you.

I will be there
Allowing the pain
I will sit with you
And I will hold the space...
For you.
© A Road Less Traveled

This site uses cookies from Google to deliver its services - Click here for information.

Professional Blog Designs by pipdig