Daffodils

Last year around this time I remember posting an angry blog, something about "stupid daffodils" and the fact that Mother Nature could be so insensitive to my broken heart. How was this beautiful daffodil sprouting from the dirt when my life was so impenetrable by the sun? I distinctly remember a night when I took out the trash. I rolled the trashcan over one of the daffodils and it felt good. I then proceeded to stomp, crush, kick, and tear the rest of the innocent flowers from the still cold ground. I cried the angriest tears a human cry. Afterwards, I came inside and fell on my knees. I was covered in dirt and tears and I was alone. I kept telling myself...you will always be alone, this is it, you will always feel like this, why is everything just "continuing" to exist when you so badly want it to cease completely?

I am thankful my life did not cease. I am thankful that during those times of pure despair, I was never really alone at all.

Recently those same flowers have found their way to the surface again. Smiling every day at the sun that begins to hit them in the wee hours of the morning. I began to notice them sprouting one day as Nick and I were walking out of the house. I, for a split second, remembered the anger, hurt, and fear that came with the newness of Spring last year. Then as fast as it came on, it was gone. Left in my heart and on my face, was a smile. Had Nick turned around and seen the cheesy smile on my face, he'd probably wonder if I was hittin' the sauce that morning! But, for those short minutes I felt an overwhelming sense of pride about how far I've come down this winding road. And as I hurried to catch up with him, and grabbed around his arm, I felt ready for whatever the future has to offer.

Because those daffodils are growing haphazardly in the, "flower bed" (and I use that term extremely lightly) I am going to dig them up tomorrow. I will make a bouquet and take them to the cemetery. Dan and I spent long hours and days working in the yard every spring and fall making it pretty, but you would never guess it now. I let my apathy for anything beautiful and anything that required energy to push me deeper into my shell, last year. My shell has since cracked and the coldness has lifted off of me like fog over a bay. I want to take to Dan some of the resplendent fruits of his labor. I am going to tell him that everything bright and beautiful will always remind me of his smile. I will lay the flowers over his name as I tell him (even though he already knows) that I am okay. Not just okay, but good.

A light exists in spring

not present on the year

at any other period

~Emily Dickinson

Heavy

I have written before of my anxieties and fear of abandonment by my loved ones since the passing of Dan. Some days are better than others. Some days my thoughts are not consumed by the possible losses my soul might endure. Other days, the thoughts of mischance lay heavily on my heart.

Last Friday, I turned on the Today Show as I was getting ready for work. The news was teeming with coverage of the Earthquake in Japan. When word of tragedy enters my brain these days, it's different than before. I truly believe that I can feel other's pain. I laid my hand on my heart. I do this often now, and am not sure if it is because I physically feel the pain in my heart, or, because I know how vital the heart is to life.

I say a silent prayer. It starts as a general prayer for those affected. This prayer makes me feel as small as a grain of sand on the bottom of the vast ocean. My thoughts shift to the pain I know of first hand. I think of the widows, especially the young ones. I think about how they woke up on a Friday morning, with plans of the weekend dancing in their head. They rolled over and touched the shoulder of their husband, never imagining it was last time they would see them alive. My mind swirls. I think of the young widowers, then parent-less children, fearful mothers, daughters, fathers, sons. How can nature: strong, powerful, untimorous, incredibly beautiful, also be so cruel and unmerciful? How do you comfort the ones catastrophe has been afflicted upon?

Keep praying Tiffin. Remember that YOU ARE as small as that grain of sand. You will never know the answer to "why" as long as you walk this earth. These people have a plan, just like you. It might not be the plan they saw for themselves, but there will be light on their road, just like there was on yours. Pray that they see the beauty in that light, sooner than later.

Calamity such as this, adds to the weight on my chest. When will I be able to not fear for the lives of the ones I love? Will there be a day when I only enjoy the love, and not have thoughts of loss in the back of mind?

Like the wild creatures of the world, I have learned to greatly appreciate the survival of the day. I would like also, to come into the peace of not taxing my life with the forethought of grief.

A New Chapter

Yesterday my last surviving Grandparent, my Mother's Mother passed away. Stella Lawson Phelps lived a good long life.

It was raining yesterday. It was raining when I woke up in the morning, and it was raining when I got the news of her passing. This seems to be a pattern for loss in my life. The night Dan was brought Home, the rain was puddling everywhere my eyes darted. I hated the rain for the longest time. Every time I saw the ominous sky I would curse God and my existence here. And when the sun decided to come out, I would curse it too, catechizing its reasoning for my torture.

I don't remember the exact day that I stopped hating the rain, and I don't remember the exact day that I stopped hating the sun when it rose, what I do know, is that I look at both of these phenomena as blessings from a Creator that will one day give me all the answers I seek.

The rain drops that fell yesterday were the happy tears of my Grandmother's friends, family, and her beloved husband, my Grandad, greeting her as she entered the pearly gates. I spoke to my Grandma on Friday. She was not alert, but I believe she heard what I was saying. I told her to hug Dan for me. Really, I told her to give him a HUGE hug (because that always made him uncomfortable and I think it's funny). I also told her to go ahead and call him by the wrong name, because she always did. In between the tears that streamed down my face, I smiled, and prayed for my Grandma's peace. The whole room was crying, not sobbing, but soft tears of goodbye. I looked at my sister in this solemn moment and couldn't contain my laughter. She was wiping her precious tears off of her face (with the cheapest toilet paper know to man), and had some stuck to her face. I am not talking about a little toilet paper, Jaime had actually paper-mached her cheek, and I couldn't stop the giggles. Straight out of the movie, "Steel Magnolias" Jaime and I smiled and said, "Laughter through tears is my favorite emotion." And this remains true.

My favorite emotion is laughter, that being said, I am invariably trying to guide myself toward happiness. This past December, I literally stumbled into my new found happiness.

I met a tall drink of water by the name of Nick Smith, and the best part about us is that we became instant friends. I wasn't looking for anyone, and frankly, didn't know if it was possible. I am so happy we took a chance on each other. I knew that it would take a strong man to be with a widow. "Ghosts of Husbands Past" has to be an uncomfortable, and even concerning way to start a relationship, but he did. He accepts me for who I once was, he likes me for who I am, and respects who I strive to be. I appreciate his acceptance, am intrigued by his mind, warmed by his soul, and never take one of our many laughs together for granted. (I also happen to love his crooked little smile)

Every little step on this journey has been new and scary. This particular step is scary in a fun way.

Before I changed my relationship status on Facebook today, I wondered what my widowed friends would think, Dan's friends, my friends. I then remembered all the support I've gotten over the past year and longer. There is no one that is of importance in my life, that wants to see anything but my happiness. And for that, I thank you.

This is the beginning of a new set of chapters. A new story, a different path off the same winding road. Continue to walk with me friends, now in the light, since it is because of you that I shine.

Today is a snow day. I was lazy with my boys this morning, then began to get some things accomplished. In the widow-world, I made some huge accomplishments today, however, I can't write about them yet. I'd like to share them with you, but there are some people following my writings to use them against me, instead of following my writings to walk with me on my journey. Instead of sharing my small triumphs with you (which is always more inspirational) I am going to share two feelings I have had since December 31, 2009.

Panic and Fear of Abandonment

I will start with the very scary emotion of panic. When Dan had been at the gym longer than 2 hours, I was concerned. I wasn't overly concerned, and to be honest, I might have been a little annoyed. I was annoyed because I was hungry, I had put a pizza in the oven, it was finished, and I really wanted to eat it. I also wanted to wait for him to get home, so we could eat it together. A few unresponded to texts, and a couple of phone calls that left me with his voicemail, turned that concern into a touch of fear. Fast forward to the phone call from the police at the hospital and my crazed state getting to Howard County General. That feeling had now turned into panic.

Present Day: I am here, I am smiling, I am moving forward with my life. But wait, there is that feeling...panic. I can't get a hold of Jaime...panic. I try Ryan's cell because I can't reach her, no answer...panic. Someone I love walks out my front door...panic. Should I run after them and tell them I love them? Have I said I love you enough to them, so that they know? How many times can you tell someone to be careful, drive safely...etc, before you are no longer just a concerned loved one, you are a psycho?

When will my racing heart and panic stop? Am I going to fear the uncontrollable for the rest of my life? Is this why my blood pressure it that of a 90 year old man who has only eaten fast food his whole life?

This is where my fear of abandonment comes in. I get scared sometimes that my psycho tendencies might scare someone away. I try and lock up my fear most of the time, but, I know that most see it in my eyes. I hug harder and longer than most. I take a mental picture of faces before I leave or they leave. I am always thinking..."What if this is the last time I see this person." I HATE THAT! Just sitting here at my computer, writing this, has my heart pounding. I am thinking of the faces of everyone I love and praying that God will keep them safe always.

Lord~ Keep my loved ones safe and happy. Let none know first hand of the panic and fear I carry. Help me enjoy the peace of the day, and not waste precious minutes worrying about things only You can control. Let the ones that I adore, know that I adore them, in case there were ever a time I not be able to say it myself. Thank you for the old and new people you have placed on my path. Thank you for the light and guidance you have given on this journey. Allow me to continue my smiles, my strength, my courage, and allow me to do this without hate and fear. ~ Amen

An Unexpected Change

I love children, I love my students, and I LOVE the things that come out of their mouths sometimes.

Today, we were reviewing a lesson on "change." There are 5 generalizations that can be made about change: It is linked to time, it is random or orderly, natural or caused by humans, change is everywhere, and finally change is expected or unexpected.

I asked the students to give me some examples of these different generalizations. I am always amazed at some of the things they come up with that I never would. I sometimes wish that I had uninhibited, unguarded thinking. One of my students raised his hand and said, "Mrs. Shriner, you didn't expect that your husband would die, you've probably had to make a lot of changes because of that."

I don't think that I took a breath for a while. He caught me off guard, but what a connection! Yes, my life has taken a very unexpected change, and many things have differed because of it. Some of the other students looked at him in a manner as if to say, "what are you doing???" But, I didn't mind, it was a teachable moment. I spoke briefly of perseverance. I spoke of strength, friendship, and courage.

Amongst the beautiful quiet faces, my newest student, a bright little girl, smiled and said, "Mrs. Shriner, you are the most lively person I have ever met, I would have never thought you have been through such tragedy." What a compliment. If that is what they are seeing, I know I have come far, considerably far.

The somberness of the talk took a humorous turn when another precious student said, "Well at least you're beautiful and someone else is bound to love you." Then, another chimed in and said, "And your not even too old to have babies, so if like that's what you want, you still can."

Yes, my darlings, I want. I want many things for a full life. That includes never wanting to miss a precious talk with the young minds that will one day run this world.

Over a year ago, I felt like a large stone that had been dropped without warning into a cold river. Today, I am the ripples on the wake. I am reaching out, grasping, feeling, and attaining all that this short life has to offer.

February 9th

On February 9, 1979 a beautiful (OK, to be honest....I used to tell Dan that he looked like smeagle the little creepy guy in Lord of the Rings but that's neither here nor there) boy was born.

Whether it was singing "Wind Beneath My Wings" in his fifth grade play or protecting my honor in high school, even though we didn't know each other that well then, Dan was always making an impression.

As I stood at the cemetery today, cold and and staring at the stone which holds his name, I smiled. What a life he lived. Yes, it was too short, but Dan traveled the world, fought for his country, had hundreds of friends, smiled every day, loved and married his best friend... I was lucky enough to be that girl. He LIVED, LOVED, LAUGHED...He WAS that poster/banner/sign found at every Home Goods store.

It is hard for me to wrap my head around the fact that I have now been on this Earth longer than he ever was, but I have SO MUCH more living left to do to catch up to his accomplishments, his feats, his legacy.

I know, I can tell, that this year is going to bring me smiles and continued healing. When I run and have my conversations with Dan, I can hear him telling me how proud he is of me. I hear his voice telling me to keep moving forward, to continue and finish the race that has been set out before me.

When I first started to run for distance and to compete in races, I didn't think I could do it. I puked after the first mile, my legs felt like jello after 3 miles, and it didn't seem to be getting any better. I had signed up to do a 7 mile relay race, and I was starting to get nervous that I would let my team down by being the weakest link. One gorgeous day I went outside and got into my "run zone" for the first time. I ran 6 miles without stopping. When I came back home I ran downstairs and said, "Dan, I think I am going to be able to do this." I will never forget his face, it had a confused stare and he said, "Of course you can." He never lacked in confidence for me, never.

I am never again going to lack confidence in myself, I love that he taught me that. I am confident that my smiles are genuine these days. My smiles were even genuine and confident today, as I thought of his life well lived.

I have a beautiful life ahead of me, I am confident of this, and I am going to live it well, too.

~Any life, no matter how long and complex it my be, is made up of a single moment- the moment in which a man finds out, once and for all, who he is. ~ Jorge Luis Borges

Stronger Than Most?

The other night (over cold Bud Lights and the beautiful ambiance of Wings Sports Bar) Heidi and I had a discussion. I love that I can tell my "sister-wife" anything....and so I do.

Somehow a discussion of strength came up. I told Heidi that I didn't like when people say things like, "You are SO STRONG...If I were in your shoes I would have curled up and died." Or, "You are SO STRONG... I still wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning.." Little comments like this hit my heart painfully. Not because I truly believe anyone means harm by this, or even judgement, however it often feels that way.

It makes me feel like I didn't properly grieve my husband. It makes me feel like people think I am not still grieving him.

Dan was my best friend. He knew the good, the bad, the ugly, and loved every part of it. There are few loves like that in the world, and I was lucky enough to have had the chance to experience it. That being said, that doesn't mean, I'm not going to give love another chance. It doesn't mean that I am going to say that my best years are behind me, and it's all down here from there. I truly don't believe that. There is a plan for me, and I am excited to live it.

I put live in bold because that is what Dan would want me to do. It's what my sister and family want me to do, it's what my friends and those who love me want me to do, it's what I want to do.

The other night, I opened one of Dan's dresser drawers to grab a pair of his boxers, which I often still wear to bed. I looked at some of his clothes and thought: Tiffin: You can do this. Tackle this one drawer, and you will have jumped another hurdle on this road. So, I did. I took out the boxers, the t-shirts, the socks, and few random shorts that Dan must have stuffed in there. (And he always called me the stuffer.) I made a pile of t-shirts I wanted to keep and ones I could donate. As I pulled each t-shirt out of the drawer, each and every one was a memory. I could picture a day that Dan wore that shirt, what we were doing, where we were, his always grin...

Yes, I cried. I cried really hard as a matter of fact, but when I was finished, I wiped my face and started to giggle. I looked at myself in the mirror and stared at the hot mess standing in front of me. I remembered the first time I cried in front in Dan. He stroked my hair and kept telling me that he had never met anyone that looked beautiful when they cried. He said, "Everyone has an ugly cry face, except for you." Whether he meant it or not, it got me to stopcrying and I even got (one of my many) nicknames out of it. He called me Stormy, because he said my eyes looked like the sky right after a storm.

I realized after I bagged the clothes, washed my face, blew my nose, that dealing with my grief has definitely gotten easier. I don't cry as often anymore and when I do, it doesn't last as long as it used to. When I think of Dan it is to smile, not cry.

I received an email today from someone I've never met. She is a friend of a friend. The email was titled "Getting Up" and it brought tears to my eyes as I read it. It wasn't an email that told me "You are SO STRONG....because I wouldn't be able to...." It was an email that just said, "You are SO STRONG." Thank you, my new friend, I appreciate those words so much.

My advice to anyone who might be inspired by someones strength: Don't sell yourself short. Don't compare yourself to someone else's strength, especially if you have not experienced their situation. Be undaunted in the fact that you can and will tackle whatever life has to throw at you. Be confident that God has a plan for you, and "Getting Up" in the morning is half the battle.

Thank you for all of you who continue to pray for me and my strength, it's working! I am living again, and loving every minute of it. I love when my real smile runs across my face. Just knowing that I am not faking it, makes me smile that much bigger!

Little minds are tamed and subdued by misfortune; but great minds rise above them. ~ Washington Irving