A Grief Recovery Project Post
“When you walk to the edge of all the light you have and take that first step into the darkness of the unknown, you must believe that one of two things will happen. There will be something solid for you to stand upon or you will be taught to fly.”
Patrick Overton
The last two years have been full of painful lessons. Lessons in letting go; of acceptance and not overthinking; of realizing that the only control I have is in how I respond to situations, not in what happens to me. So why I’ve persisted in thinking I’d have some answers by the time I reached the end of this adventure is a mystery to me. Stubbornness, I guess.
I’m down to the last day of this Grief Recovery Project and am no closer to knowing who I’m supposed to be, where I’m supposed to be, or what I’m supposed to do with my life than the day I left Boise. After nine months of happy wandering the globe, I have no new insights about my place in the universe. Huh. Didn’t see that coming.
But, in a surprising twist of events, I’m totally okay with the not knowing. (I know, I can’t believe I’m saying those words either.) I woke up this morning calm and excited about getting home to hugs from my family and friends, even though it means saying ’til next time to the many amazing friends I’ve made along the way. So now what?
Well, until I figure it out, this mama’s gonna be a rolling stone. Phase One of Lisa’s Big Adventure is almost over. Stay tuned for Phase Two and some bonus stateside adventures this summer. And to those of you who have followed along, thanks for coming with me.
XOXO,
The Wandering Widow
Live Now. Dream Big. Love Fierce.
Lisa- you are the most honest and authentic person I know. When I write a monthly column on my PD journey, I try to summon my “inner Lisa” to help cut through the crap and clutter. How does it feel to know that you are an inspiration to others?
Awww shucks! You know how to make a girl blush. Thanks A.C.!
Lisa:
I lost my husband of 20 years September 2, 2015. He developed a very rare an aggressive cancer and in 6 months was gone.y kids were 9 and 12 and it has been the most difficult thing ever. I have done therapy and tried group therapy and none of it really helps that much because there are no people my age who’ve lost a husband with kids at home and in my similiar walk. I don’t know you’re complete story but am hoping to find a connection with some who maybe have been through this process.
After my 41 year old husband passed my father was diagnosed with cancer in June 2016 and he passed in September 2016.
My life has been turned upside down and no one gets it or understands how it is still hard. We are doing fairly well now I guess really. But there are some things that become very difficult. Friends we used to have, going to kids functions and their dad is not there, holidays and knowing how the kids miss their dad, etc.
Oh Tara, I wish I could give you and your kids a big huge squeezy hug. There are groups with others in your situation, especially if you’re open to online groups. Please email me (Lisa at TheRealLisaBain dot com) and I’ll get you contact information. But yes, I totally get how your universe is not only turned upside down, it’s completely shattered into a bazillion pieces. XO, Lisa
Being ok with the not knowing Lisa, means you know already more than most people in the world!
XOXO Thanks Vlad!
I just lost my husband of 42 years to a 9 month battle with cancer. We had just gotten the last of our 3 grown children out of the house and now was supposed to be our time together. I am so lost without my best friend in the world. I am 62 he was 69. We met when I was 18. I work and talk to friends and family but at the end of the day I am alone. I find your blog very helpful. Sorry for what you are going through.
Darleen, I’m so sorry that you’ve been forced into this “club” we call widowhood. We all find our way one step at a time, and I find it helps me to know we’re not alone in this grief journey, even though we each walk our own path out of the darkness. Sending you much love and healing. XO, Lisa