Carseat Safety on a long Widow's Road

September 15, 2013

Today, my youngest child will be "graduating" from her 5 point LATCH system car seat/booster to a simple booster than merely lifts her a few inches higher in the seat.  She will no longer be protected by 30 lbs of molded plastic, harnesses and metal buckles.  Just a seat belt and a smile as we drive down the road.  This transition has created so much anxiety in me as I ache for assured safety. With all that we have been through in the past 15 months, it's no wonder!  I want to envelop my precious child in a bubble wrap of protection so nothing could ever happen to her. I know that it is impossible to shield her from everything and so now it is time to "let go" a little more and trust in the Universe.  You would think - "oh, this child must be 3-4 years old!"  Nope, she is 7 yrs 9 months.  She is 56" tall and weighs about 82 lbs - the average size of a 9 1/2 yr old.  Yea, it's time.

When my older children were little, they were completely out of car seats by the time they were 2-3 years old.  I buckled them into the back seat and off we would go.  I never thought twice about it because that is just what we did back then.  The twins were little enough, I would buckle them into the same seat belt - How times have changed!  The laws now dictate children 8 yrs old and under 100 lbs require some kind of car safety restraint system.  27 years ago, the laws only stated infants had to be placed in a car seat on the way home from the hospital.  I actually carried my 29 year old in my arms all the way home from the hospital!  50 miles through the desert.  Life moves faster now, and people are more distracted.  The new car seat laws are made to prevent tragedy and great bodily harm.  Wouldn't it be nice if we could prevent ALL tragedies in life by transporting ourselves in a safety device with a special latch system?

 As I travel the long and windy Widow's Road, I long for a strong safety seat to protect me from all the bumps, potholes and rocky roads ahead.  My husband was that safety for me, he was the one who "had my back" and  provided that layer of protection when the rest of the world became too overwhelming.  Locked in the strength of his arms and his love, there was no road hazard that could affect me.  With the sudden and unexpected loss of my husband, I find myself cautiously approaching new experiences, waiting for assurance all will be well once I step both feet in. My challenge is letting go of fear of the unknown and allowing myself to leap empty handed with my eyes closed and experience what life has to offer. 

  The journey along the road of Widowhood requires a certain amount of risk taking, willingness to allow the road ahead to unfold unexpectedly and ability to navigate hairpin turns.  While playing it safe might be what one WANTS, it is not necessarily what one NEEDS to bridge to the next chapter in life.  The Widow's road while difficult to navigate leads to a place of renewed hope, treasured memories and everlasting strength to tackle anything that lies ahead.  As always, I look to my Village for love, support and understanding as I experiment with each new step.

Where shall the road take us today?

The Grief Monster



August 30, 2013

I was thinking about this thing called grief and how often times it is like the monster in the closet that children fear at bedtime.  It sits, waiting for the lights to dim and the house to settle before showing its face - or just pops out of nowhere to send me in a spiral.  Since I have been on this grief journey, I notice it is most often at night where the sadness, anguish and longing for what was, creeps around in the shadows and taunts me with the unknown fears and anxieties that come with being a widow and single mom to 7 kids.  I was searching the internet to see if there was any literature or information on my made-up entity called the "Grief Monster" and found this picture of a children's book on grief.  So, it wasn't so made up after all.  The "Grief Monster" is real.


I have shifted into a new space in my journey as a widow, that of a support to other new widows.  There are far too many, and they are far too young to be on this path.  What I hear time and time again is that their bed is the place to go when all the new realities become overwhelming.  Any time of day, to run and jump under the covers shutting out the day or the night seems to bring a sense of protection and insulation from the constant barrage.  I also hear it is the nights that bring forth the scary dreams, fears, anxieties, regrets, anger and all the dark emotions linked to losing their spouse.  The night is not our friend.

It is a bit of a paradox this relationship between the safety and comfort of my bed and the predictable anxiety-ridden nightfall. I recall the nights after Ron died, my bed was a refuge at the end of the day.  I actually looked forward to the time I could be done with all the activity and I could snuggle in to the blankets and sheets and wrap myself in a protective cocoon.  All of the day's troubles were pushed away for that instant and I could pretend none of it was real.  Sadly, as the night progressed, that refuge became a torturous mess of bad dreams, sleepless nights and a reminder - he was gone and would never hold me, comfort me, make love to me in that bed again.  The Grief Monster knows how to take away peaceful moments and turn them into darkness.

I honestly thought after a year, I wouldn't be susceptible to the Grief Monster's scare tactics.  I thought by now I would be immune to the affects of sudden unexpected bursts from the shadows, but that just isn't so.  I don't always react as intensely as I used to of course but it still causes me to pause and realize - Ron is gone forever.  Today, the Grief Monster reared its ugly head and attacked full force.  I was cleaning out my extra refrigerator and saw that the infertility meds were still there.  I had been ignoring the fact they were taking up an entire drawer for the last 2 years. 

I still held out hope we would try again - even after an early miscarriage/chemical pregnancy in April 2011.  We bought the medications for our next IVF cycle and then I began to notice Ron wasn't doing so well.  He was really slowing down and was having a harder time keeping up.  I decided to put off an IVF cycle to see if things improved with him.  I thought "give it a year" - well, in exactly 1 year he was gone forever.  That baby we had both wanted so badly would never be.

Today, when I cleaned out the drawer and placed the expired medications in the trash, if felt like I was peeling off my own skin.  All the emotions just rushed to the surface and I was a crumbled mess of tears, snot and aching heart.  I miss that man so very much and letting go of the hope, the possibility of new life is excruciating.  There is nothing that will ever fill the place in my heart like he did.

That damn Grief Monster, how do I tame it?  I need a new, updated version of Grief Monster Spray like I used for my kids when they were afraid to go to bed at night.  I would make billions.