So much gratitude to give as 2022 comes to a close

New Year’s resolutions? Hard pass. 

Gratitude resolutions? Hard yes.

As I look back on my first full year as a widow, what I see is a woman who is becoming secure in herself; a woman who is confident in her place in the world. I’m old enough and I have enough seat time in life to know I can do widowhood my way. I’m also smart enough to know I don’t dance to this beat alone. 

So, here’s a toast to the people and moments I’m grateful for this past year:

• Each of the people in my circle. All of the love. All of the support. The arms that hold me when everything falls apart. The boots that kick my ass when needed. After My Favourite Husband died, they gave and gave and gave. This past year, our relationships have been put back on an even keel and our lives are fully shared and intertwined again. To each one of you, thank you for your sense of humour; for cheering me on; for laughing with me and crying with me. I’m so glad to share our lives. You are more than friends; you are family. I know I tell you often that I love you — and I mean it. Now quit crying, you beautiful bitches. I love you.

• To one of my closest friends who encouraged my writing from the moment I started sharing my journal entries with him and a few others. When I told him early this year that I would’ve loved to have had a widow support group to share with but couldn’t find one (gee, thanks COVID-19), he suggested a blog. I immediately balked at the idea. However, when we talked this past summer, I said I might be open to the idea. And when I took the plunge, he was there to support me. He designed my blog page and schedules the posts. He gives my posts a quick edit for grammar and punctuation. He is also responsible for crafting the tweets about my posts. He encouraged me to interact with people on Twitter and, because I took his advice, I now learn about and connect with so many amazing people. You’re a wonderful friend and editor. Now quit crying, you brilliant human being. I love you.

• The people of Twitter. I was shy and nervous to interact but you’ve been brilliant. I started tweeting to connect with a community of grievers but I’m now connecting as well with writers and people in other communities. I love reading about your journeys. I love the support and kindness you give me, and I love returning the love. Thank you for sharing your lives. I learn from all of you. Now quit crying (you know who you are). I love you.

• Life as a flight attendant; a.k.a. “how the hell did this just happen?” I was puttering around, working a semi-retirement dream job in a greenhouse minding my own business when the whole ’til-death-do-us-part” event happened. Suddenly, I had a lot of time on my hands. After six months, I friend suggested I apply (she was) and suddenly I was in training. The hardest training for a job I have ever done but I did it. And suddenly I was back in aviation; back in the shift-work world. I’m meeting so many simply beautiful people — crews and passengers alike. And while my days are long and can be challenging, this is where I’m supposed to be right now: connecting, sharing. So, to all my crews and passengers, I’m pretty sure you’re not crying but, if you are, stop it. I love you … well, not you 9B … not until you put your shoes back on.

• To anyone who’s read this blog, thank you. I’m so damn proud of it. The sole purpose for it is to give fellow grievers a connection, a link so they know that although their journey is their own, they don’t have to walk it alone. I don’t give advice but I hope that by sharing myself so openly, you know someone else in the world understands.  Cry if you want to. Cry if you need to. And if no one else has told you this lately, I love you.

I’m grateful for so many moments:

• Two weeks in Portugal, a place that is home because part of my heart is there.

• Too many laughs in the back galley.

• All the hugs; all the physical connections. Arms of love that wrap me in strength. I’m so glad I’ve received the healing power of the human touch so many times.

• All the moments I’ve faltered because I’ve been able to stand up, stand tall and move forward having learned more about myself, my resiliency.

• All the swimming pools I hang out at, all the aquafit classes I take, the people I meet at the pools, the effects exercise has had on me physically (weight loss and tone up) and mentally.

• For realizing that I can’t have what I want but I can want what I have.

• Most of all, I’m forever grateful for the 27 years of memories I have with an amazing man. While I would’ve wished for so many more, it simply isn’t to be. And so I choose to be grateful for what I did have and I do my best not to mourn what can never be.

My life this year is nothing like I imagined it would be but….

Life can be different and life can still be beautiful.

Much love to all of you in 2023.

❤️