A Wondering Widow Post

Yesterday was the day o’ $hitty news. From the minute I woke up, to right before I went back to bed, the bad news just kept rolling in. It’s happened to me before. Remember that time I screeched at that young man that my life was a bad country music song? ‘member? Yeah, I can’t seem to make myself forget that embarrassing incident either. It went something along the lines of, Daddy died. Husband died. Suicidal. House flooded. Dog died. Legal battles. Someone drank the last of my favorite whiskey. Oh wait, that was me.

That song sucked! And just to remind everyone, I did go back and apologize to that young man who was very gracious about the crazy woman scream-crying at him. Or was it cry-screaming? Whichever.

Well, yesterday’s stream of bad news felt familiar. I woke up to learn the Parkinson’s community back home had lost a wonderful human being and advocate. I’ve been blessed to be a part of this advocacy community since my Dad’s diagnosis. We’re a family. I know they’ve been by my side and had my back from day one, just like I’ve had theirs. We were all in it together, and James Trussell was a pillar many leaned on.

Then, as I started my first cup of coffee, news reports started rolling in about the devasting and horrific loss of life in Las Vegas. I was still reeling from learning about James, and now this? I couldn’t believe the headlines I was seeing. I breathed a sigh of relief with every “safe check-in” that popped up on Facebook, but my chest hurt and it was getting hard to breathe.

My evening wrapped up with the news that Tom Petty had died. A man I’ve never met, but his music has been a big part of my life, so it felt like I knew him. Or that he, at least, knew me. I’ve learned not to ask, “what else can go wrong?”, but c’mon!

I read an article recently that talked about how the grieving have a much harder time dealing with the stress of disasters and other crises. And it’s true. It doesn’t take much to tear open the soft pink scar tissue that’s slowly stitched the pieces of our hearts back together. It comes with the grief territory, and sometimes we have to close up shop and protect ourselves from any more bad news. For some, that means turning off the TV and logging off social media for awhile. A great strategy for everyone, if you ask me. For others, burying yourself in busy stuff can work great. Some of us use inappropriate humor, my personal favorite, as a coping mechanism. Sometimes you just need to be with other people. Whatever works for you, do it.

For the first time since I started this grief journey, I had to deal with this kind of bad news day alone. While I’d typically impose a digital detox, my phone was my only way to connect with my support network, so I kept it on. As I wandered about town, the Vegas tragedy was the topic of conversation in many places. I’m currently in a country with strict gun control, but when people realized I was American, they offered their condolences and their empathy, not their judgment. Maybe I wasn’t as alone as I’d thought. Maybe none of us are.

I don’t really know what I’m trying to say here, except you don’t have to carry the grief alone. And you don’t have to shoulder the outside grief that sometimes comes our way on days like yesterday. And it’s okay to shut down and hide out and protect yourself. And I love you.

The Wandering Widow
Live now. Dream big. Love fierce.