Setting the Record Straight-ish

Couldn’t Find a Better Duet to Introduce a New Idea

So it’s about time I come clean about some things.

The initial reason for the blog was to share the story of Jamey, Caeley and me as we navigated through the last months of Jamey’s life.

I wanted to incorporate some of the major players in that process, his dedicated caregivers at Samaritan Hospice.

And I did. Kind of.

I started to get a swell of followers from all over the world.

I connected with people going through similar situations.

I felt encouraged, touched, meaningful, purged and useful.

Then my protagonist went and died on me.

And I was stuck.

I was stuck physically, emotionally and mentally.

I big toe-balanced on barbed-wire in limbo–ever waiting for the wall of raging currents of water to jettison me adrift into the River WeepingWidow.

It’s been 10 months to the day since Jamey passed away.

I have yet to dip that big toe into the Depths of the Sea of Grief.

Do I get sad? Of course. Do I reminisce? Absolutely. Am I moving on? Yes.

In fact, I’ve been moving on for a while. And I haven’t been moving on alone.

I don’t feel comfortable going into specific details for a variety of reasons, but some of my closer friends and family know that I have met someone who has helped make my days a bit happier.

“Isn’t it time you got on with your life?” is a phrase people dealing with loss often hear.

Too often, however, that “getting on” is in relation to mundane tasks like going to happy hours or getting off the couch or showering more than weekly.

In the case of widowhood, “Isn’t it time you got on with your life?” is a much trickier, more delicate question when “getting on” means (potentially) “getting it on” with another person who is not your deceased spouse. (Ok, that was a bawdy comment, but I like how it worked lyrically, so there).

So…I looked back at my previous requirements for a potential partner in one of my posts and my current one couldn’t be any further from being appropriate. I’d mentioned I was looking for someone who:

Ideal Dude                                                 Current  Dude

  1. Was single or widowed            1. Nope(It’s complicated, but not illegal)

     2.  Renovated  old home               2. Actually, yes! 1 point

     3. Has a son named Carrick            3. Nope

     4. Is Catholic                                       4. I want to believe

    5.  Irish                                                    5. I say yes; he says no. It’s complicated.

   6. Scorpio                                                  6. Nope

  7. Last name letter starts with:            7. Kind of starts with one of those letters

B,C,D,E,G,P,T,V,Z

So on paper, at least, Current Mystery Dude does not meet the qualifications I was looking for last September.

But, for right now, he makes me happy. And I make him happy–or least he laughs a lot.

I think he’s laughing with me. Ok, maybe sometimes at me.

And Caeley doesn’t absolutely terribly horribly despise him, which is huge.

So, HOTties, what does this have to do with you all?

Why am I sharing?

I want to show that just as there is death after life, there is life after death.

I know Jamey’s biggest fear was leaving Caeley and me alone.

And I know that, although we never discussed it, he would want both me and Caeley to have someone in our lives who treated us well and with respect.

And for right now, we do.

And I’m happy with that. And so’s Mystery Dude. And so’s Cael(kind of)

And so’s Jamey.

PS….although Jamey would rarely talk about his and what might happen afterwards, I was always VERY clear with him that if he ever dated ANYone again or tried to replace me in ANY way, I would haunt the shit out of him every moment I could.

 

Hell hath no fury like a dead ghost-zombie Irish Catholic bitch scorned!!

4 thoughts on “Setting the Record Straight-ish

  1. Awesome! Been praying for you and your kid, for your family and for wherever grace leads you to go.

    There is something horribly unique to brain cancer, the disconnectedness, isolation, the stress of caregiving, loneliness and ultimate sad ending and brutally long wave goodbye. I hope you can weave all of this together in with your current life and keep posting because there are a lot of us out here still in the desert of brain cancer caregiving land. Your story is full of the hope we need.
    Praying for peace, grace and perseverance for you and yours. God Bless you!
    A blessed and fruitful lent to you all.

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    • Hi Judy,

      I think of you often as well. And don’t worry, there’s a WHOLE lotta weavin’ going on with the new fella. For a number of reasons, I simply haven’t been able to and/or comfortable about sharing it.

      Funny that you mention the “desert” of brain cancer caregiving. Don’t know if you’ve ever seen the movie Beeteljuice or not, but I often felt like I was living in that crazy, unpredictable nonsense of a desert that the “Sandworm” lived in.

      Can’t say I make it to church at all anymore, but I want you to know that I said a prayer for you and your husband while at Stations of the Cross the other night.

      –Kim

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