The Real Lisa Bain

The Wandering Widow

Grief Recovery Project

Reclaiming All the Colors: Project WE to ME continues in Hawai’i

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Thank you to everyone who reached out to make sure I was okay. I took a few weeks off to go on a much needed holiday. XO, L

A Grief Recovery Project Post

If you’re a regular reader, you’ve heard me describe the grief recovery process as peeling back layers from an onion, an ugly grey onion. Those onion’y tears sting. They also steal the colors of life from our eyes, pushing us into a grey limbo bordered by before and after.

Onion vs. Spiral

Nature loves spirals, like the ones you see in this tree fern at Keahua Arboretum on Kauai.

As more time passes, I’ve started to think the grief process is actually a spiral. The grief path circles further and wider but always brings us back to the point of origin. Each time we circle back around we experience that loss differently, with new eyes and a stronger heart, both of which see the colors we lost when our husbands died. This time my spiral has brought me back to my point of origin. Literally.

Gone Girl

I’m currently in Hawai’i, the land where I was born. It was here I learned how to be a human. Hawai’i is where Dan asked me to marry him. It’s also the place I gleefully left as soon as I graduated from college. I spread my wings and never looked back. Despite my family and friends here, if it weren’t for my baby cousin’s wedding, I can’t say that I’d have returned. And that would have been a colossal mistake. While every memory I have here includes the people I’ve lost, I’d have missed out on the opportunity to make new ones that were just mine.

Home

BirdOfParadise_Kaneohe_Hawaii
I love all flowers, but the ones from my home state will always be my favorites.

As a military wife, HOME was wherever our orders sent us. In the last two years of my traveling nomad life, HOME was wherever my suitcase was. And while I’ve recently established a home base back in Boise, I haven’t been tied to any one place in a long time; not since I left Hawai’i all those years ago. So imagine my surprise as I stepped off the plane and had every cell in my body screaming at me that I was home. HOME!

It’s difficult to explain if you’ve never left your hometown. I’ll do my best. First, my skin and hair started smiling at the humidity. Even my lungs were breathing easier. Was that the humidity or the sweetness in the air? The melodic singsong voices made my ears happy. And I can’t wax poetic enough on how good it felt to enjoy island food again. (PRO-TIP: Never get between an island girl and her food.) But the best part was the peace and joy I felt in my bones. HOME.

Project WE to ME

Sunset_Lahaina_Maui_Hawaii
I try to watch the sunrise and sunset every day. This one was postcard perfect.

Hawai’i is so vibrant it makes the rest of the world look washed out. Everywhere you look, life is set to vivid. The ocean is extra blue, the mountains extra green and the daily rainbows are just extra. Everything exudes a “no filter” kinda beautiful. I love that and was determined to treat my home state like any other place I visit, diving into the nooks and crannies of Hawai’i life. I desperately needed to remember both this place and who I was when I was a girl.

After traveling solo for the better part of two years, it was a special gift to have a dear friend join me for part of this visit. Showing her “my Hawai’i” let me see it through her eyes. I heard my long-buried accent resurface as I described growing up in this multi-cultural paradise, and enjoyed explaining the meanings of words and traditions, just like my Daddy used to when mainlanders or Japanese family would visit. I wasn’t sure if I still qualified as a kama’aina (local) or not, but it sure felt like it.

Prodigal Daughter Returns

Rainbow_HanaleiBay_Kauai_Hawaii
Ever touch a rainbow? This one at Hanalei Bay on Kauai was the lowest I’ve ever seen.

The Hawai’ian word for family is ohana and, to quote Lilo, “Ohana means family, and family means no one is left behind or forgotten.” The absolute best part of this visit has been my friends and family, who welcomed me back with open arms as if I’d never left. To them, I’m the same, even though I’ve changed. They love me no matter what. And that love is the best color in life.

Yeah, I’m home and in full color. I think I’ll stay awhile.

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

 

Post Soundtrack

Where I’m From, Eels

Three Ghosts and I, sitting on the couch last night
Catching up on all the time
It’s been a while since we got together and
You know that it’s often on my mind

So long ago, I left it in the dust, well I was so young and dumb
Ran far away, but I have to admit, sometimes I miss where I’m from

Let’s have a drink, to everything that we went through
It wasn’t always so bad
We can’t forget, each other’s company
And all of the good times we had

So long ago, I left it in the dust, well I was so young and dumb
Ran far away, but I have to admit
Sometimes I miss where I’m from

Three ghosts and I, sitting on the couch last night
Catching up on all the time
It’s been a while since we got together and
You know that it’s often on my mind

So long ago, I left it in the dust, well I was so young and dumb
Ran far away, but I have to admit
Sometimes I miss where I’m from

Songwriters: EVERETT MARK O / SAWITZKE MICHAEL DAVID

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Set Your Intentions

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“Such a simple concept, yet so true: that which we manifest is before us; we are the creators of our own destiny. Be it through intention or ignorance, our successes and our failures have been brought on by none other than ourselves.”
Garth Stein, The Art of Racing in the Rain

A Grief Recovery Project Post

Sometimes the Universe just slaps me upside my stubborn head until I learn the lesson it has assigned. Case in point: setting intentions. You remember my two weeks of hell in November, the ones that kick off the six-week holiday season? Well, they were an ass-kicker. I’m talking brutal lows that I haven’t felt in two years.

Setting Intentions

But it was pointed out to me, by someone I love and trust, that they were awful because I willed them to be so. Ummm, excuse me? I did no such thing. But the minute I started to get defensive, I realized the truth in what he was saying. Son of a biscuit eater! I DID will them to be awful, because I said they were going to be awful. I even call them my two weeks of hell! (Note to self: find a new description for this time period, stat!)

I can laugh about it now, but I actually hit a low point that had my finger hovering over the “confirm ticket” button on a flight back to Ireland. I knew that wouldn’t solve my problems, so stayed right where I was, but it sure was tempting. Instead, I chose the harder option and I adjusted my mindset about the looming Christmas holiday. I decided it would be whatever it would be, and I’d deal with it accordingly. Good or bad.

I Forgot

Somewhere along the way, my “No Boundaries, No Expectations” mantra must’ve fallen out of my suitcase on my way back to the US, because I instantly set all kinds of expectations the minute I got home. Including for the six-week milestone season I’d been dreading.

Christmas-Jammies
How can you not have Christmas Magic with family, lights, hot cocoa and matching Christmas jammies?

A Christmas Miracle

So how was Christmas? It was AMAZING! Major props go to Baby Sister for working overtime to make it extra special, but I could totally have screwed it up if I’d have set the intention it was going to be sad, painful and lonely without Dan. Instead, I set the intention that it was going to be whatever it would be, and I couldn’t wait to see what that was.

To my fellow bereaved, this isn’t a judgment on feeling the feelings of grief. Instead, it’s a reminder of how easy it is to get stuck, and how powerful our minds are when we tell them what to expect. I would have been equally okay to have been sad all Christmas, but because I didn’t limit myself to that expectation up front, I wasn’t sad. At all. Not once. I know, I’m shocked too.

Lesson Learned

I can’t make any promises that I won’t get stuck again, but I hope the next time I’ll be a little quicker to remember that when I set my intentions, and release those boundaries and expectations, it frees me to just live in the moment. And that moment might be pretty damned good.

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

The Christmas GRP:

You know I go all in on my Grief Recovery Projects, so here’s a quick breakdown of Operation Christmas.

1. Go home for Christmas

My first Christmas in three years needed to be at home. I had to force myself to return, but it was worth it.

2. Be Festive

This can be harder than it sounds, but I did it.  I went to places that were all peopley AND festive, including parties. I rocked dresses, ugly Christmas sweaters, and Santa hats. And I had a great time.

3. Eat Christmas cookies

Two of my friends are the most amazing cookie bakers on the planet. I’m happy to help them sample any and all recipes. I’ll be one of those dorks who joins the gym next week.

4. Go look at Christmas lights

Driving around town in our matching Christmas jammies on Christmas Eve, with hot cocoa and my favorite two-year-old, was a favorite moment. It reminded me of all the Christmases as a kid when mom and dad would drag us out to Candy Cane Lane and Honolulu City Hall to see all the lights. The Winter Garden Aglow paid homage to my last visits there with Dad and Dan. Wistful, but also beautiful.

5. Wear Christmas jammies

Y’all rock. After blogging about getting some, I had Christmas jammies show up in special delivery from both Santa and one of Santa’s amazing helpers.

6. Spend as much time as possible with friends and family

At the end of the day, it’s all about the people we love, and the time and experiences we share with them that matter. Thank you to everyone who made time in their busy holiday lives for me.

7. Christmas music

The boycott is over. I listened, I sang, and I Christmas music’d the F*out. And as for the singing, I didn’t say it was good, I just said I was all in. That’s right, that was me belting out Rocking Around the Christmas Tree at the top of my lungs in my car.

8. Honor traditions

Baby Sister dug my Christmas stocking and ornaments out of the trash pile when I left town a year and a half ago, and they were hanging up at her house when I got home. Some traditions are good. I’m grateful she had the foresight to rescue them, on the off chance I ever chose to do Christmas again.

9. Say His Name

I talked about favorite holiday memories of Dan and Dad, and didn’t cry! After Thanksgiving, where no one mentioned his name at all, I participated in the Hope For Widows Foundation “Say His Name” campaign this year. I know it’s scary to talk about the deceased because you don’t know how the bereaved will react, but it’s good to share happy memories of them. You aren’t reminding us they died. You are assuring us they are remembered.

10. The magic of Christmas

Waking up Christmas morning to have my little prince take a flying laughing leap off the stairs into my arms to see what Santa had brought was my absolute favorite moment. It’s true, kids really do help us see the magic of Christmas. Talk about No Boundaries, No Expectations.  Kids just show up and live in every magical moment as they happen.

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The Death Cafe

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“To the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.”
~J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter & the Sorcerer’s Stone

A Grief Recovery Project Post

What happens when a grief and bereavement blogger walks into a Death Cafe? Sounds like the start of a bad widow snark joke, but that’s exactly what happened last week. I know, I may be a bit rusty on how holiday festivities work, but this is something I’ve wanted to check out for a while now, and the timing worked for me to attend while I was in Boise for the holidays.

Death Cafes

Library-Death-Cafe
The Library! provided a table with a selection of their books relating to death.

Right about now you may be asking, “Lisa, what the heck is a Death Cafe?” My dear reader, I’m so glad you asked. It’s an international movement to de-stigmatize the conversation about death and dying through local meet-ups. The Cafe is the event itself, not the place. The meetings have a facilitator, but the attendees drive the conversation. Oh, and there’s cake.

You know how I feel about shining the light on the ugly underbelly of grief and bereavement, so a Death Cafe seemed right up my alley. And I do like cake. So, on the appointed evening, I showed up at my local library for the Death Cafe I’d read about on Facebook.

Death Is Personal

As much as I write about grief and bereavement, I was a bit uncomfortable talking about death in a room full of strangers. Irrational, I know, since I can usually have a conversation with anyone about anything. But death is so…death-y. (Those of you that remember the time I was accused of having a grief blog that was too grief-y can imagine why this makes me laugh.)

And after having a front-row seat to Dan’s gruesome end, death also feels personal. Really personal. I mean talking about sex personal. My reaction is a prime example of why conversations like these are needed.

So, like most everything else in my life, I showed up alone. Seemed appropriate since that’s how we’re all going out. Alone. I arrived to find people of all ages, from all walks of life, and diverse spiritual and philosophical beliefs. The group size that night was unusually large due to recent media exposure, so we were broken into smaller circles.

First Rule About Fight Club

Death-Cafe
Frank conversations about death today can make tomorrow’s reality a little easier.

I can’t discuss anything that was said. The first rule about Death Cafe is, we don’t talk about what’s said in Death Cafe. (That was funnier in my head when I pictured Brad Pitt saying it, but whatever.) I can assure you that the room was full of kindness and a genuine willingness to both hear others and share if desired. It was a safe place to talk about a scary topic without judgment. And based on the number of people there, our society has a deep-seated need to talk about it.

I’m still processing everything I heard and felt, but would encourage anyone to attend. Just like grief and bereavement, we need to make the conversation about death one that is accepted in our culture.

To find a local Death Cafe in your area, visit DeathCafe.com, or @DeathCafe on Twitter. If you’re in Boise, Death Cafe Boise can be found on Facebook.

Oh, and if you decide to go, please drop me a line and let me know. I’m dying to hear what you think.

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

POST SOUNDTRACK

To Where You Are, Josh Groban

Who can say for certain
Maybe you’re still here
I feel you all around me
Your memories so clear
Deep in the stillness
I can hear you speak
You’re still an inspiration
Can it be
That you are mine
Forever love
And you are watching over me from up above

Fly me up to where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile to know you’re there
A breath away’s not far
To where you are
Are you gently sleeping
Here inside my dream
And isn’t faith believing
All power can’t be seen
As my heart holds you
Just one beat away
I cherish all you gave me everyday
‘Cause you are mine
Forever love
Watching me from up above
And I believe
That angels breathe
And that love will live on and never leave

Fly me up to where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile
To know you’re there
A breath away’s not far
To where you are
I know you’re there
A breath away’s not far
To where you are

Songwriters: Linda Thompson / Richard N Marx
To Where You Are lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, BMG Rights Management

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Bring On The Holidays

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last christmas
Our last Christmas.

“What I love best about Christmas is how you made me love it again. I went from hating it, to it being my favorite. You did that. You and your mom. I didn’t think that was possible. You’re like f*ng Christmas elves. For f* sake, I’m wearing GD Christmas jammies and our house looks like the North Pole.

I love you for that.”

~Dan Bain

A Grief Recovery Project Post

If you’ve been following my adventures this summer, you know I worked diligently to reclaim the spaces and places that used to be WE and make them all about ME. I didn’t let mixed results stop me from forging onwards with this particular GRP.

Fast forward to the dreaded holiday season. I’m back in the US and ready to face this demon head on. After two years of not celebrating the holidays, this is my year. I figured if I don’t do it now, I’ll never celebrate them again. And I used to give Mrs. Claus a run for the money, so I’m putting my big girl Christmas panties on and doing it.

A Holiday Fuster Cluck

For new readers, it may help to understand why this time of year is so emotional and hard. It’s not just the festive cheer all around, which is brutal on the bereaved. For me, it’s also the cluster bomb of milestones: Dad’s deathiversary, my birthday, Thanksgiving, what would have been our wedding anniversary, Christmas and New Year’s. Yep. Welcome to my six weeks of WTF, which this year I will face head-on, mostly sober, and with Christmas jammies.

Not gonna lie, I’m a bit terrified about this holiday season, which has already gotten off to a pretty rough start. But if there were a blinged out Scout’s badge for grief preparedness, I’d have it. That’s right folks, I have a plan. I’ve got proactive appointments scheduled with my grief counselor, and lots of activities planned outside in the sunshine. Never underestimate the power of exercise and vitamin D to help you power through Christmas carols and tinsel and other Holly Jolly bull$hit festivities.

Santa’s Helper

Santa Claus
Santa approved of my plan to make the holidays my bitch. My language…not so much.

I’ve also got the people I love most in the world watching my back. My knight-in-shining-armor will be by my side, holding my hand and sharing all the magic with me. He may only be two years old, but he’s been my bright light in the darkness from the minute he was born. I know, that’s a lot of pressure to put on a wee babe, but when I was at my lowest point, he was the reason I chose to stay. I couldn’t bear to be the cause of his mom having to someday explain why his Aunty Pirate bailed on this life.

But I digress. His joy about EVERYTHING is contagious. And I’m grateful to get to have this time with him. If anyone can help me rediscover the magic of Christmas, it’s him; my sweet prince who showers me with FaceTime kisses when I’m far away, and hangs on to my leg and says, “No, Aunty Lisa,” every time I have to leave.

Thanks, baby boy. Aunty Pirate loves you. Now, off to shop for Christmas jammies and whatever the hot gifts are for 2-year-old boys. Is it too soon to buy him a car?

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

For those of you who are new to this W life, it’s okay to opt out of the holidays and just take care of yourself. Be kind to yourself. And while it won’t feel like it, remember you aren’t alone on this grief journey. XO, L 

POST SOUNDTRACK

I’ll be Home For Christmas, Bing Crosby

I’ll be home for Christmas
You can plan on me
Please have snow and mistletoe
And presents on the tree
Christmas Eve will find me
Where the lovelight gleams
I’ll be home for Christmas
If only in my dreams

Songwriters: Buck Ram / Kim Gannon / Walter Kent

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Limitless (A Grief Recovery Project Birthday Post)

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When no possessions keep us,
when no countries contain us,
and no time detains us,
man becomes a heroic wanderer,
and woman, a wanderess.
Roman Payne

A Grief Recovery Project Post

Reflecting on the last year. Looking ahead to the new journey. p/c Clodagh FitzGerald (North Channel between Ireland and Scotland)

As I sit in yet another airport, staring down the barrel of another birthday on this spaceship we call Earth, I’m taking time to reflect on the last year. After my short hiatus back home this summer, I’m finally wrapping up my Eat-Pray-Love year in Europe. Now I begin the transition into a new phase of this journey, and I’m grateful for the sense of closure and peace these last few months have brought me. 

I guess it’s appropriate that I’m returning home just in time for my birthday. I don’t dread birthdays anymore. These days I celebrate them. I know too many people who would have given anything to have had another one, including Dan, Dave, Bill, Jeff, Brian, Tom, John, and so many more we’ve lost along the way.

Sometimes people get confused. Because I blog about grief and bereavement issues they assume I’m sad and depressed. Not so! I’m truly happy. I love my life; it’s a f*ng amazing life, and I’m grateful for every minute of it. So here’s my year in review. Happy Birthday. XO, L

You’ll never hit the ball if you don’t swing the bat.

When I was in sales and sales coaching, this was one of my favorite quotes. And at the time, I believed I always swung the bat. That’s funny now. Hilarious, even. I had no idea that I’d set so many boundaries on myself, most starting with the words, I can’t, I shouldn’t, or I won’t. I’d never have dreamed that this quote would play such a big role in my life AD (After Dan).

When the pain of grief overwhelms your ability to breathe, it’s only too easy to curl up into a ball and hide from life. I vaguely remember the days and weeks I couldn’t get out of bed, or off the couch, and spent months not leaving the safety of my house. I can’t accompanied each breath I took. Without realizing it, I’d created my own prison and placed myself under house arrest. I’d set so many boundaries, I was barely existing. Living life wasn’t even on my radar anymore. So much for Live Now, huh?

When I finally broke myself out, I set out on my biggest Grief Recovery Project yet: long-term solo travel around the globe. I was both running away, and running towards, something I couldn’t yet identify. But I swung the bat and hit a home run. I learned a lot while I was away, probably more than I could ever hope to write about, but here’s my short version.

What I’ve Learned

No boundaries, no expectations. p/c: Kristin Caldwell (Toledo, Spain)

I’ve learned a lot about the world. No matter where we are, or what our histories and cultures may be, at the end of the day we are all the same. We are human beings with the same needs, concerns, and desires. We all want to be valued, to contribute, to be free, and to be loved. I’ve learned what a large place our planet is, and how incredibly tiny we are as individuals. But even as small individuals we can still make a huge difference to the good or the bad. It’s all up to us, and I choose the good.

In the last year, I’ve learned how to be by myself. I’ve learned how to take risks and how to take care of myself when things don’t go as planned. I’ve faced my fears and come out on top, even if I reached the summit with a few bruises and a fractured maxilla to show for it.

And I’ve learned about this new Lisa: the strong, fun-loving adventurer who loves being around people as much as she enjoys solitude. This Lisa loves music and dancing,  and doesn’t care who may be watching. And surprise, she turns out to be a nature girl (somewhere Dan is laughing his a$$ off at that) who loves to wander and enjoys getting lost (the rest of my inner circle can stop laughing at that one). This Lisa learned to be less guarded and trust her heart, taking 100% of the shots, even if sometimes she strikes out. (Or gets hit in the face with a fastball. Tomayto-Tomahto.)

The One Thing

But if I had to identify the most important lesson I’ve learned on this journey, it would be to stop applying limitations and boundaries on myself. No boundaries-No expectations has become my daily mantra. I’ve done things I NEVER thought I could, should, or would do. I’ve seen things I NEVER knew existed. And I’ve conquered the fears I NEVER thought possible to overcome. I’ve learned I like this person I’ve grown into that I NEVER thought could, should, or would exist. And I’ve found love, happiness, and peace, things I feared would NEVER be in my life again.

It took a long time to get here. And it hurt like a @#$%^&*! But cutting those boundaries loose freed me to live without limits. And lemme tell you, as scary as it is, it’s worth it. So get out there and live your Limitless life. I dare you. No boundaries, no expectations, just living life in the moment. This moment. Limitless.

XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.

POST SOUNDTRACK

The Road Less Traveled, Lauren Alaina

Why do you keep on staring?
That mirror, mirror, it ain’t fair at all
Dress sizes can’t define, don’t let the world decide what’s beautiful
You won’t make yourself a name if you follow the rules
History gets made when you’re acting a fool
So don’t hold it back and just run it
Show what you got and just own it
No, they can’t tear you apart

If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle
Don’t be afraid, take the road less traveled
Wear out your boots and kick up the gravel
Don’t be afraid, take the road less traveled on

Don’t follow anyone
March to the rhythm of a different drum
Why do we analyze, break out, and criticize the crazy ones?
You won’t make yourself a name if you follow the rules
History gets made when you’re acting a fool
So don’t hold it back and just run it
Show what you got and just own it
No, they can’t tear you apart, no

If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle
Don’t be afraid, take the road less traveled
Wear out your boots and kick up the gravel
Don’t be afraid, take the road less traveled on

Take the road less traveled on
Put your hands up, show me that you’re one of a kind
Put your hands up, let me hear your voice tonight

If you trust your rebel heart, ride it into battle
Don’t be afraid, take the road less traveled
Wear out your boots and kick up the gravel
Don’t be afraid, take the road less traveled on

Songwriters: Lauren Alaina / Jesse Frasure / Meghan Trainor
Road Less Traveled lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc

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