12

My first trip to India with the most amazing, gracious souls I’ve ever encountered.   -Kaveri Vanita Seveshrama Orphanage

Every year on our anniversary I have tried to spread the love of a wonderful man by doing acts of  intentional love/kindness for strangers and family alike.

It has turned a day that for so many years was unbearable, into a day full of shared joy and excitement.

This year I’d like to ask your help in spreading the love! For the 12th Anniversary, having just 12 of you to help my mission of giving, would be the most amazing gift you can give to a day that personifies love.

Are you in????! Do you accept the mission? I know….what the heck is the mission, Taryn!?

Slow you roll, Tom Cruise….Here’s what I’m planning……..

—

It is no secret that my heart is deeply in love with India and the people who inhabit it.

It is in India that I have found the true meaning of surrender/letting go and trusting the unknown.

In India I learned the true meaning of happiness.

I learned how freaking lucky I am to have the things that so many of us take for granted each second (true story…I am kind of a master at not taking showers after not taking one for 20 something days there…I know…but really, it’s all about the baby wipes and Teen Spirit deodorant).

It is in India that I realized that Mother Theresa knew her shit(though I never doubted this saint)…because “I am not sure exactly what heaven will be like, but I know that when we die and it comes time for God to judge us, he will not ask, ‘How many good things have you done in your life?’ rather he will ask, ‘How much love did you put into what you did?”

So this leads me to the goal I have to make this day that encompasses so much love, into one that spreads love…to India 😉

I have stayed in touch with folks in India and was recently contacted by Gokulananda (go ahead…..say it 5 times fast…) who heads the Widow Initiatives in the Keonjhar District…..but first, let me digress…

I’m not sure if you know what it’s like to be a widow in India…I didn’t know until I was in Vrindavan where the “Widow Home” was…and never have I ever been more grateful to be a widow in the United States….to have the rights to pursue life after loss…to have created the AWP….to have the choice to rebuild after the ruins of tragedy.

Take a quick second to watch this clip….it sums it up pretty well (or google “Widow in India”…it’s pretty much the same across the board) what these women face.

 

Digression done and back to my buddy Gokulananda….who for typing purposes and because I think we’re cool with each other, I’m going to now call Goku on this post 🙂

So Goku’s been keeping me updated on all the amazing things they’re doing to educate all in the district on the importance of supporting widows and their children, while also giving the widows in the region opportunities to have a purpose and a plan to thrive after loss (which is basically my favorite thing in the world). Here are some pics of the ladies, their education initiatives, the children of the widowed they’re serving and some more eye goodies of good deeds:

Goku rocking it….and rocking that plaid!

So Goku and I have been going back and forth, and having run a non-profit for 10 years myself, I know that donations are great, but I love when physical items/services can be given instead of money. So I emailed Goku to send me a list of what I ( or WE….if you’re in 😉 ) could physically send for them to use now….even more so, I want to go beyond that and if you decide to answer this call, you’ll send it directly to them in India (straight to the source!).

So my dude Goku wrote me this:

….Thank you so much for your mail and your concern for the Widows and their Orphan Children.
The materials you have mentioned are very useful and is a dire need for the stakeholders.As per your mail we need the following materials:
White Polo Shirts(For Kids Only)
School Supplies(Note Books,Pencil,Pen,Markers,ABC Books for Kids Only)
Sandals(For both Widows and their Kids )
Water Filter is a dire need for every Widow family.
For Sarees,if it is not possible to arrange it in US,we are trying to arrange it from India.
Thank you once again in advance for your concern for the helpless Widows and their Orphan
Children living in India and supporting IDP Team’s effort in Widow Welfare,Empowerment and
Development.
With Kindest Regards.
In Solidarity,

GOKULANANDA OJHA

---

So there you have it! Everything that may seem small that could make a huge difference (cue Mother Theresa…).

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

—

These are items that you (or you and your kids/family) can go grab anywhere for very little moola (but make a huge impact with). I would also urge you to write letters of support to them, and as they learn english I have no doubt that those letters will be their aim to one day read. As you can see in the email, I had mentioned the difficulty in finding white sarees (mandatory widow garb in India…and maybe why I like to wear rainbows….we’re lucky!). If for some reason you know how to get some, that would be amazing!

Having spent time there I know that water filters are indispensable, and something as small as this $15 life straw will make a huge impact if that is an item you have the means to donate.

—

So there you have it! The mission! If you do decide to partake (THANK YOU in advance!) please take a picture of it about to be sent off or of y’all working on putting it together and attach it to the FB post or in the comments below! I’d love to meet the goal of 12 folks sending packages of love (and I promise, you’ll get soooo much out of giving it)… and the posts will let Goku know our little corner of the world is helping in a big love/small gesture kind of way (and maybe I’ll send him rad plaid or non-plaid pics of us coming together for them…I’m thinking plaid…yep).

I’ve included the address to the foundation/Goku below. Print it out and bring it to the post office in case of any confusion.

I am a widow because of December 23rd, 2005…the day I chose to follow my heart and marry Michael….

There is no better way for me to pay gratitude to him for choosing me to be his wife then to help those who are suffering because of their “I Do” ending too soon.

Thank you for taking this journey with me (Cue Mother Theresa…)….

“At the end of life we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made, how many great things we have done.
We will be judged by “I was hungry, and you gave me something to eat, I was naked and you clothed me. I was homeless, and you took me in.”

 

 

Some of my favorite souls during my time of teaching in Baljeet Nagar.

MR.GOKULANANDA OJHA

MEMBER-SECRETARY

INDIA DEVELOPMENT PROJECT

AT:-AKHUPAL,POST:-BADAJAMUPASI

VIA:-GHATGAON,DIST:-KEONJHAR

STATE:-ODISHA,PIN CODE:-758027,INDIA

Tel:- +91 7377720394

 

Risking

Taking a risk….

We have been taught that one of two things can occur from such an action:

Something bad, with  an unfavorable outcome..

Or….

Something magnificent, soul empowering and life-affirming.

–

So what happens when you take a risk and both occur?

Would it be a mutant? An “X-Men” of risks?

A grey area that few talk about or like to admit to?

–

Or is risking something of ourself….of our life, always going to have both outcomes?

You know what. That’s what I believe. Because at the end of the day, when we take a risk and our dreams come true, we forget to admit that even the magnificent is finite.

And when the “bad” occurs, we forget to see and honor the great wisdom that comes from the hardships.

And maybe, just maybe, by embracing that risk will not have one of the outcomes….but both….maybe that allows us to cherish, and be grateful, and honor the roses and thorns that occur from such a noble and courageous act.

–

Marrying Michael at 19 was one risky move….I can admit to that. Not only because of age but because he was Infantry in the Army in the middle of a war.

But you know what…. I refuse to look at that risk as one I shouldn’t have taken because he died and I was left a widow a 21 years old.

He was one of the greatest risks of my life.

And yes, a “non-favorable” outcome occurred that temporarily shattered me.

But if he had come back and lived another 70 years by my side, one of us would have eventually passed-on….and that wouldn’t be favorable either.

But the risk is always worth it.

I can’t decide the timing or the turmoil or the triumphs that happen as a result of such an action….but I want to keep risking.

I want to keep milking every ounce of beauty in the risks that turned out the way I planned, and keep honoring the teachings from the risks that didn’t (seem to at the time) end as hoped for.

And what is life if not one short or long and beautiful stretch of hoping, trying and loving and living…..but only if you risk to feel/experience it.

Risk on.

It’s Time

Taking in the wonder that is the Grand Canyon- Oct. ’14

“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste it, to experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.”- Eleanor Roosevelt

 

It’s been well over 6 months since my last post.

Much has happened. I’ll highlight a few:

• I’ve risen in love with an amazing human, best friend, spirit, lover and overall partner in (good) crime (not that that makes logical sense….but you get me 😉 ).
• I began studying and practicing Peruvian Shamanism (and became a reiki practitioner).
• I’ve flown over 46,000 miles this year….and it’s nothing compared to what’s ahead!
• The AWP is rockin’ and rollin’ with features on Wall Street Journal, CNN, NPR and TODAY…this year alone!

So now that you’re kind of caught up, it leads me to what is coming…what has already begun…I am leaving to travel around the world for the next 5 months (to start)…

Austin -> Norway -> India -> Nepal -> Thailand -> Cambodia/Laos -> Indonesia -> New Zealand -> Australia -> Austin

To be more specific!

Destiny has been knocking at my door for some time, and this year I made the decision to answer…and oh what a glorious welcome she has given me.

I’ve been lucky enough to do a “once-in-a-lifetime-once-a-year” trip every year since Michael’s death… but after the next 5 months, I think I’ll be set for a while, allowing me more time to grow and expand my horizons and future (for myself, my passions and with the man destiny hooked me up with out of nowhere….well played, destiny…well played…).

I’ve been blogging a bit on the site where we will be sharing our stories, photos and revelations.

You can find it here.

 

My eyes are ready to be opened a bit wider.

My feet are ready to walk a bit farther.

My hands are ready to reach a little bit further.

My heart is ready to grow a bit larger.

My horizon is ready to become a bit broader…

 

It’s time.

 

I’ll see you along the way….

Feel

Though I love to come her to share my thoughts, experiences and words, there are moments that I come across things that speak so poignantly that it must be given the space to spread to those who deserve to hear it.

 

This letter is one I found this evening that I know so many who have lost, struggled, hurt and suffered, should read.

 

Written by a stranger. But a human. Who has gone through who knows what in their lifetime.

 

May it impact you the way it has for me:

 

There will be days when the tears become waterfalls upon your cheeks Feelings cascading down your skin soaking you to the bone, to your soul.There will be nights when you are so overcome with the weight of being alive that you cannot sleep. You turn and toss in the sea of bed sheets. There will be years when the emotions you held in for so long, for too long, breakthrough in waves and currents that you have not yet learned to swim in.

Breathe my love. It’s okay to feel. It’s okay to be emotional. It’s okay to sit with the feelings and try to understand them. It’s okay to let them hug your body for a while, till you are ready for them to let go. And if it takes longer than most to say goodbye that’s okay. You feel what you feel till you don’t feel it anymore. It takes time. You will not drown in the ocean of emotion. You will float on your back and feel it all, every ripple, every wave as the sun leans in to kiss away your tears.

For every person that told you, “you’re too emotional” I stand before you with arms open wide and say it’s okay love, it’s okay to be emotional.

I love you,

Dele

Faith

When he died, my faith died.

Faith in a god, life, living…

There was only one thing I wanted to believe, that he’d come back home.

When that didn’t come to fruition, it was believing that life would end shortly thereafter.

It didn’t.

Nothing changed.

It wouldn’t change until I started believing.

Believing that I could survive. That I should survive.

Believing that inhaling and exhaling, at some point, would be a natural process that I didn’t pay attention to, mostly because there were too many times I wished I would have stopped doing both.

Faith became a silly word I loathed using.

I’ve always thought that faith was a belief in something bigger than one’s self.

I forgot that for a while.

But when the turning moment came for me to believe that I could survive….thrive after losing him, so came the moment that I realized a truth.

That I still had faith in our love.

It was bigger than us both.

It still is.

And now, 6.5 years later, that faith has allowed me to know, believe and trust in those things.

With one of the most important being the angels that have guided my way.

Sometimes it was a child smiling at me in line after a night of crying. Other times I know it’s been Michael with the synchronicity that could not be explained. There are even moments when I realize I am one for myself.

Sometimes it just takes us believing.

And with the belief comes the faith.

And with the faith comes a world possibility, in one that once seemed impossible.

And with that, an unveiling of a world or people, things and moments that make once unfathomable seconds, now worth it.

Faith never died. It never will.

Believe me.

“Everyone has an Angel. A Guardian who watches over us. We can’t know what form they’ll take. One day, old man. Next day, little girl. But don’t let appearances fool you, they can be as fierce as any dragon. Yet they’re not here to fight our battles, but to whisper from our heart. Reminding that it’s us. Its everyone of us who holds power over the world we create. You can deny angels exist, Convince ourselves they can’t be real. But they show up anyway, at strange places and at strange times. They can speak through any character we can imagine. They’ll shout through demons if they have to. Daring us, challenging us to fight.”

Invincible

You know that feeling….

You can do it all.

Conquer it all.

Get through it all.

You enter any situation or place almost as if you own the joint, simply because they’re by your side.

All is right.

All that isn’t, will soon be.

You’re safe.

All is sound.

You have the unquestionable and unshakeable knowledge that you are deeply loved.

For all that you are.

All that you’ll be.

Unconditionally.

 

 

Then loss occurs.

You have a feeling of self-doubt, instability and a fear to take one step forward.

It happens…

 

 

One of my favorite guided meditations to lead is the ‘feeling of love’ meditation, as I call it.

You go back to that place.

That safe place and power of a love someone showed you, which in turn bestowed you with a confidence and assurance that all will be well…even amazing.

Mid-way through the meditation, I ask them to release the image/place/feeling of that person, but to hold on to the energy.

It’s tough.

It can be painful.

But as they breathe through it. Inhaling the love. Exhaling the fear of being on a world without them here physically, a switch occurs.

 

 

It’s a meditation I personally guide myself through on days where I just need that extra oomph…. it’s that reminder that the invincible feeling I had with Michael wasn’t dependent solely on him, but created within myself when the perfect one for me showed me it was possible to find that love and power within.

I can still feel it.

Still walk in to a building like he’s by my side.

Feeling confident that it was in the action of someone loving me unconditionally that I was able to find within myself an unconditional love that knows no boundaries, or rules on when and how and where to come forth.

And I will rock.

And I will kick ass.

And will do it eyes wide open. Fearlessly.

To infinity and beyond 😉

 

Break Up

“The relationship you have with the world is just like any other relationship. Every now and again, even if it’s pissed you off for no good reason, you have to look it in the eyes and say: I love you.” – Iain Thomas

I broke up with life in May of 2007.

For obvious reasons.

My soul mate was killed.

But as the days, months and years passed.

As the smiles grew from corner to corner, laughter escaped, inhaling was appreciated… we made up.

But then another loss. Another break up from the big L.

Then he wined and dined me and we made up. All past issues forgiven 😉

But the past 4 years, when May or December came around, I didn’t just end our longstanding nuptials with a break up, but insisted on at least giving life the cold shoulder.

They’re hard months with hard dates.

Not this year.

No.

Event though we’ve had are disagreements and what at times seemed like a total divorce, life and I have stuck it through.

‘But how? Life has done some pretty messed up things to you?!’

I know. It’s a question asked by many and many times by myself. Please, let me explain.

Life has its flaws. Undoubtedly. But so do I.

Life has sometimes made me question my very existence. But Life never Life never left my side as I figured it out for myself.

But enough about Life..I must admit my own discretions in our relationship.

I’ve hated Life with my very being. I’ve spit on it and told it to never come back. I threw its clothes to the curb. I’ve cursed it to all around me.

But through it all, Life consistently let me know that it was there for me. Life knew that it wasn’t perfect, and most importantly, Life never gave up on me when I had given up on it and myself.

Life understood what I needed to realize for myself….

That it wasn’t perfect, but it was something that many didn’t even have the honor of having in its presence. That it couldn’t give me everything, but if I were to reflect, I’d realize that it had and would give me more than I could have ever asked for or dreamed of.

This May (and after), I’ve made a pact with what I some thought to be a hellish relationship, to really opening my eyes to the utter beauty and unconditional love it has and will show me as long as I’m willing to embrace it.

Life is a gift/relationship denied by many (even by myself at times)….but no longer, hot stuff. I’m on to you and all that I blinded myself from seeing before.

I love you….and I’m so in love with you.

Push

Besides the obvious pain of losing my soul mate, I’ve done many things to challenge my mind and body to see all that I’m capable of and that is still possible after what seemed like the most debilitating of losses.

I’ve walked on fire over a 108 times, done Indian sweat-lodges, put a knitting needle through my hand, walked on glass and more.

Not because I’m a complete nut job (though I may be by many definitions), but because these (what seemed like) physical challenges opened my eyes, mind and heart too much more I had yet to unearth.

I’ve taken those teachings with me and benefited from the metaphorical message they each carried.

They changed me…In a dramatic and drastic way. They have become an integrated part of my daily life, but as I was just reminded, I forgot one pivotal aspect of their teachings.

Change is good. Discomfort is something to be embraced. Change is growth. Change and discomfort is a willingness to live.

But as I recollected just recently, many, if not majority of these teachings, were preceded by a distinct and terrifying pain.

A pain of the unknown. The pain of what could be. A pain of something my thoughts conjured up.

A pain that took place before an action had actually taken place.

A pain that can stop one’s persistence, if easily hindered. A pain that waits for moments of change and discomfort to hold you back from all that you can and could be.

But more than anything, a pain that beckons your heart to take the leap…make the decision…embrace the evolution…return to what you know in your heart is what is right for you.

I chose to take that first step onto the coals. To focus my attention on the moment in what seemed like unbearable environments…to push forward when all things said don’t push forward for one more inch…I didn’t choose to lose Michael, but at one moment I decided to live for him…and then for me.

But there is pain. There is discomfort. There is doubt.

But more than anything, there is the force that has no definition or specified word, that is waiting for you to push through. To find out that it’s not as painful as it looks, or as terrifying as your mind wants to trick you into thinking.

It’s waiting for you to take the next step into what will be the most amazing time of your life.

The only time of your life.

The now.

The time where pain takes backseat to positive change.

The only kind of change that we deserve out of such perils.

Change

“I don’t know that love changes. People change. Circumstances change.”- Nicholas Sparks

December is always one of the toughest months of the year for me.

Wedding Anniversary, Christmas, my birthday…all within 4 days of each other.

And as I’ve mentioned before, I define Michael’s life by his love, not the day he died, so I find our anniversary tougher than the day he left this earth.

But this year I know will be better.

Not because I love him any less. Not because his absence is any less prominent. Not because the pain has fully dissapeared.

Because I have changed.

I see that I have the control. Not to change the circumstances of what has happened. But because I have changed in the sense that I am finally able to see that I change the circumstances of how I will react and evolve from these days.

I will undoubtedly be tired and have my mood swings, more than usual, but I have a feeling that December 2012 will be the best one since December 2007.

The love hasn’t changed…but grown…and finally I am allowing myself to grow with it.

Simple

The ability to simplify means to eliminate the unnecessary so that the necessary may speak. ~Hans Hofmann

 

I pulled into the driveway.

It was Friday evening. The junk food in hand and wine awaiting my lazy evening.

I step out of the car and see a puddle of water in front of the garage door.

‘Did it rain?’

‘No…’

I open the garage door and the water starts pouring out.

‘It’s probably the water heater in the garage. It must be.’

Then I see it pouring out the small cracks of the door leading into our home.

I exit the garage. Close the door.

Hold my breath for an instant and start walking towards the front door.

The sidewalk is soaked.

I was afraid to enter.

I looked through the glass panes and see it.

4 inches of water throughout.

I open the door. Set down the drive-thru food.

‘The computer cord’ flashes through my mind. I unplug it.

Michael’s combat boots by the front door. I grab them and set on higher ground.

I didn’t think about much more. The electricity and cords probably should have been a first thought…to conventional for my brain, I guess 🙂

Clothes are floating, carpet is rippling like waves in an ocean.

I put the dogs outside. Call the emergency water shut off and sit in my car.

Long story short…much was ruined. The whole hose has been boxed up. All of my laundry was sorted through by commercial dry cleaners and is who knows where (makes me regret the stacks of clothes unwashed ;D ). The walls drilled through. Floors ripped up. Photos and every memento taken down by strangers.

But I had what I needed:

My dogs. His combat boots (his flag was safe on a mantle).

With further rummaging…the letters he wrote me, his voicemails, and portraits of our Charlie.

It’s all I had. It’s all I needed.

And even if those didn’t make it, a calm draped over me that it would reminded me all will be okay.

The crazy thing is I never screamed, cried, became hysterical, etc.

It was as if the house was on fire and I grabbed the essentials and quickly became at peace with all I might have to part with.

As the water rushed through every inch of our house, enveloping everything in it’s grasp…In a way it enveloped me with the knowledge that the material was the material. What I needed was with me or already within me.

I’m unable to live there for another month, but as I lay her with my dogs, a picture of Michael and Charlie, and a bag of clothes that will more than suffice..I’m grateful.

It could have been so much worse. I could have lost so much more. I could have not been as ready as I was when the pipe broke.

It’s a new beginning for our home…and a new chapter in me simplifying my life with the essentials….high off the ground 😉

I’ve gained so much more than I lost.

For once I’ve realized the strength and fortitude I had no idea was within me.

My soul was tested unwillingly and passed with flying colors.

Evolve

The 4 Fires we created the last night for the 108 aka the 108 times we walked across them for graduation.

Evolve.

We all hopefully do it.

Peel the layer off the onion to reveal the next.

It was hard and unthinkable to have any other “layers” after Michael’s death…but surely, 5 years later, I’ve evolved.

Grown.

Learned.

But the growth has been like watching a snail crossing a road:

It’s surely moving, but when you watch it continuously, it looks as slow as molasses…when you turn your glance and look back a time later, it seems as if it’s gone leaps and bounds.

This past week though…I saw the growth happen before my eyes…without taking my eyes off the whole time.

I went to become a Certified Firewalk Instructor for new things I have planned in the future for my passion and cause…but left having learned more about myself than I could have ever imagined.

It was a crash-course in the obstacles, faults, fears, and goals we all have in life.

It was like taking a sip of what I thought was water, to have my system shocked when I realized it was sprite.

I pushed myself (along with the help of a god-sent group of individuals all trying to attain the same goal or facilitating), mentally, physically, and emotionally.

Together we cried, cheered, were inspired by each others faith in the other, by each person’s perseverance when things got bad, by the ability to find a place in our mind that was pure, unscathed, and there to show us the truths within each of us.

There were moments of doubt and apprehension…but always a hand to reach out (Thank you Kathy). There were moments of realizations that we are not alone in are connections (Thank you, Del) and there were realizations that some people will test you to make sure your spirit and soul are reinforced in your being (Thank you, Robert).There were moments that I saw the utter goodness of strangers who want to do nothing more than help other’s achieve the goals set forth (Thank you, FIRE team).

Only one other moment since Michael’s death have I been so utterly sure that the things I learned would change my life forever.

I am now a certified Firewalk Instructor.

But more than that, I am a better person. A person that has much growing to do, but can finally see life with clear eyes and an open heart.

I didn’t want our time at F.I.R.E. to end and had a bit of hesitation in the outside world being able to fully comprehend all that took place…all that will run through my veins from this point on…and they may not…but I knew that for 4 days I learned amazing and extreme tools of enlightenment and empowerment, I met people who are more than people, but now family, and I have no doubt that I was where I was supposed to be…with Michael’s amazing spirit alongside me the whole time.

 

“Courageous risks are life-giving, they help you grow, make you brave, and better than you think you are.”

Ability

 

There’s a poignant quote from a book that I truly related to in the first days and months after my love’s death:

“My heart was chilled to ice. I felt ill with grief. But there was no time for frozen shock. Something in me did not want to give up on life, was unwilling to let go, wanted to fight the very end. Where that part of me got the heart, I don’t know.”

 

I didn’t know how I could still live…still breathe…without my other half on earth…by my side.

 

I turned on all things and people around me…believed in nothing….loathed my fear that deterred me from taking my own life.

 

But now I know.

 

Know how that part of me remembered I had the heart to keep living, to keep breathing…but most importantly, to keep growing, giving, and healing.

 

He did.

 

You see, Michael was not in the Army for his life career…only 3 years…as a way to feel challenged in life….to feel as if he was making a difference…to feel passion for something outside of himself and for those around him.

 

I never quite understood it. Understood the ability to be willing to risk one’s own life for another he barely knew. To pursue a career that no one around him could even fathom doing. And yet Michael followed his heart . Became whole. Helped his comrades grow…pursue their dreams….find purpose. The same purpose he was once looking for but had found…if only for a short period in time.

 

That’s how I had the heart to keep going.

 

He showed me…gave me the ability to say, that my love died doing what he loved, followed the path wholeheartedly, and had no fear when passion was the guiding light.

 

He gave me the ability to see that I could do the same…find that passion, pursue it, change my own life and hopefully those around me, and, when the moment comes….one day….one decade…one hundred years from now…and fate meets me face to face….those who know me will be able to say the same, as I’ve been able to say for my husband.

 

All because I realized not where I got the heart from…but was reminded that I had it all along.

Now

Michael loved Calvin and Hobbes:

A kid’s pretend friend that he asked lifes big and not-so-big questions to. An invisible tiger that always seemed to help guide him through his childhood.

Michael became that tiger to me when he died…he became the person I talked to for guidance…who I asked life’s questions to. But the response I knew would never come from him…it would have to be felt and heard by me and me alone. But still, I asked. I screamed and cried for reasoning to this tragedy before me.

As time has passed though, I’ve noticed that fewer and fewer of those questions on life, do I want, or even need an answer to. Just as a child grows up not needing a fictitious animal to guide their way.

In no way am I stating that I don’t still lean on my baby in the toughest of moments, but I’ve realized that the moments where I have been the most incapacitated by grief, are when I have been thinking about nothing but the future, the world in front of me without him by my side.

2012 is carrying a new constant that I know would make him happy, and I know brings a smile to my face. One I picked up along the in 2011.

A constant that freed me from the constraints of life that my pain and loss had me chained down with… had imprisoned me with its uncertainty.

The constant of living now…and nothing more.

I know the future will be what I make of it, but my present…my present was awaiting me to embrace it…and for more than just a second…I have done so.

Learn

 

It starts with words. Then numbers.

 

Your shoe laces.

 

Sentences.

 

Driving.

 

Kissing.

 

Love.

 

Death.

 

The things we learn in the earliest of ages can sometimes make us nostalgic. To have no worries but to learn what 1 + 2 equals. To clean your room. To use stick shift.

 

Then life happens and adds dimension and layers you could have never imagined. The warm, tingly feelings in the arms of someone you love. The heartache in battling your insecurities. This urge to surpass your limits to see just how far they’ll go.

 

Learning becomes intense. It becomes unbearable at times. It becomes an addiction that you can’t quite ever kick….no matter how much it screws you up at moments…long moments.

 

You learn that there is someone out there that loves you unconditionally. You learn what it feels like to be unstoppable.

 

You learn what it is to dream…to plan.

 

You learn what it feels like to have it all taken away.

 

You learn about loss in the most tragic of examples. From a teacher you cannot argue with.

 

You learn what it is like to want to give up.

 

You learn what it feels like to want to die.

 

You learn what it feels like for time to pass…slowly…too slow.

 

Then you learn what it is to survive.

 

What it is to really wake up.

 

You learn that you were wrong.

 

You learn that their love never left you.

 

You learn that you are strong.

 

You learn to live….again.

 

You learn.

 

And you learn.

 

And you go from loathing life to embracing it once more.

 

And you are unstoppable.

 

And you learn.

Immortal

I’ve been traveling a lot…all for good and great things, but it still takes its toll.

Luckily, I’ve noticed that it takes much more weight from life to throw me off-balance, as I try to find relief in the little things…mementos surrounding me, waiting for me to find peace and relief in what they hold.

This week it was in a quote from an in-flight film. It was some actor reciting lines that I felt embodied my baby…and helped shed light on the facts my heart already knew…the reasoning behind my love’s service and sacrifice.

It’s these things that help tip the scale a bit towards the center…helps me remember why my husband is the man he is and will immortally be…for I share his heart…the heart he so vulnerably and excitingly offered me to carry forever.

“All men fear death. It’s a natural fear that consumes us all. We fear death because we feel that we haven’t loved well enough or loved at all, which ultimately are one and the same. However, when you love a truly great woman, one that deserves the utmost respect in this world and one that makes you feel truly powerful, that fear of death completely disappears. Because when you are sharing your body and heart with a great woman the world fades away. You two are the only ones in the entire universe. You conquer what most lesser men have never conquered before, you have conquered a great woman’s heart, the most vulnerable thing she can offer to another. Death no longer lingers in the mind. Fear no longer clouds your heart. Only passion for living, and for loving, become your sole reality. This is no easy task for it takes insurmountable courage. But remember this, for that moment when you are making love with a woman of true greatness you will feel immortal.”-“Midnight In Paris”

Needed

 

The past two weeks have been a whirlwind, and I’m kind of getting acclimated on the occasions where they happen…and in a way enjoying the mayhem it brings.

 

Last weekend was one of the best parts (minus dancing like it’s going out of style with Brooke). We held an Inner Peace getaway for the amazing AWP ladies. From yoga to sailing to long nights of talking….it helped center me back in a place that I had been swinging around on like an out of control pendulum.

 

Being around such a diverse group of ladies, with diverse love stories and diverse ways of dealing with loss just reminded me that all is well.

 

Being near the ocean, a place Michael so deeply loves, didn’t hurt either.

 

I felt him. I forgot at moments that he was dead, as I was living life as if he was right there with me, with his soft, close-mouthed, grin and warm green eyes looking down at me.

 

I feel him when I live life as he’s right there with me, and maybe it’s a reminder that he never has left.

 

I must believe that if a feeling that strong exists, just like my love for him, it will never wander or disappear, I just must remind myself that it is real and to use it to get me through the times I need it most….and that’s always 🙂

 

It’s there waiting for me to take hold of, embrace, and have eternally…just as I know he is waiting there, where the world begins, to do the same.

 

In love with you, baby…

 

 

Recap

The past week has been a roller coaster.

Charlie was laid to rest and it was one of the hardest moments of my life. It was also during that time that I was moved by my friends kindness. I was lucky and blessed to have some of my dearest and best friends there…friends that weren’t like the friends that were around when Michael died….these are friends that aren’t going anywhere and laugh and cry and grieve without questions or answers. TT told me she wasn’t used to being so open with her feelings, as we all shared our love and memories with Charlie…the secret is…it’s because they were there that I was able to. I love you all so very much. Thank you for helping me, loving me, and allowing me to be called your friend…I’ll never feel deserving of such kindness.

The flip side of this major loss is a major gain! My organization, as of today, has it’s first official office! I hold the key and smile…it’s more than an office…it’s a brighter and more beautiful future for myself and the fellow widows of the AWP. I’m so excited and know that this means nothing but good. It’s in my dream area. My dream 360 square feet. And will be a place where even more dreams come true for all we serve.

I’m spending this month to absorb all that May has consisted of. A month of growth, pain, survival, and the further assurance that Michael’s love is always present.

That’s it.

The end .

It Holds On

I’ve been getting everything ready for our upcoming AWP event these past two weeks.

One of the neatest components to the time is the golf tournament. I know…golf….not synonymous with anything too exciting, but at each hole is a sign. A sign that bears words from a fallen hero’s wife. Words on his life, his character, his soul….even his favorite beer!

I’ve been preparing them the past three years, and never not smile with pride to know that I know these men through their widows.

I wrote the content of Michael’s sign three years ago, never changing it. Mostly due to lack of time, but when submitting them to get printed, I took a moment to look at it…read it once more.

The content was perfect and defined him perfectly and I ended it with a latin quote. A quote that over the years I forgot the translation of (widow brain).

So yesterday afternoon, I searched for its meaning.  The results couldn’t be anymore perfect, and was something I needed to read again, as the days shave off closer and closer to the day Michael was killed (plus, it reminded me of how much I wanted to get it tattooed!).

Quos amor verus tenuit, tenebit.

True love will hold on to those whom it has held.

Growth

“The way is not in the sky. The way is in the heart.” – Buddha

I must be honest.

So much of this blog has been a diary of my love with Michael, my struggles with him being gone, my growth and realizations. But one huge component of who I am and what I have become/am becoming, I’ve left out of these writings…until now.

The American Widow Project has been a huge key to my survival, my reason for getting up each morning, and the source of infinite strength and understanding that my journey is mine alone, but does not have to be taken alone.

It has done all of the above because of the people who have believed in its mission. People like me, who were trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel, people who wanted to use their own stories of love and tragedy, to not only help themselves, but others like them.

In the beginning, I could find only 6 military widows that believed in my crazy idea of an organization, to now having nearly 800 military widows, that each are continuing to form and build the organization into what it will continuously evolve into.

The thing is, the AWP, this organization, isn’t really an organization, but so much more.  It’s tightly interwoven with my love…Michael’s love. Interwoven with my healing and journey. With the love of other widows and their heroes. With things I don’t quite believe have words to describe them.

I never wanted it to be normal organization, just like I know I never had the normal love story. I never wanted to be a leader, just someone standing among those who could turn to me and nod in confirmation that love story wasn’t a dream and won’t be forgotten, that the road ahead won’t be easy, but can be pretty darn fun. And that’s what I’ve seen it become and grow to be.

But with that have come times where I feel it hasn’t been what I envisioned or what I hoped for others to get from it, and because it’s so woven into my heart, I hurt, and I know it’s mostly because it is so much of what I live and breathe….And I know that that roots from it being a one man show (most of the time) running it.

So with that, the palm tree I planted in the tiny pot, has finally grown too large, and I need to move it into something larger (or maybe a private beach), that can hold its weight and undoubted growth.

It’s taken me over three years to take this step, but I know that the AWP will do nothing but flourish with expansion. Growth is scary with anything in life, and I’m excited to take a step to having a larger place to house the most sacred of love and lives….those of my fellow military widows.

The AWP is a big part of my heart and soul, and I need this growth to take place to help it keep beating.

The Wall

“But mostly, I cried because my life had been going full speed for so long and now it had just stopped, like running right into a big brick wall, knocking the wind and the fight right out of me. And I didn’t know if I’d ever even wanted to get up and start breathing again.”

– Sarah Dessen

This quote embodies the day I was notified and the months and years to follow (and even random moments in my day-to-day life).

I never thought I’d be here.

Alive.

Living….thriving…without my love by my side.

At first I held back from a smile or a good time, in fear that it would be dishonoring him. But with time and introspection, I realized that by doing so…holding back..I was dishonoring him.

Our loves don’t die for us to shrivel up into a ball, to live in a cave, and become Gallum-like. But in the beginning I couldn’t grasp that.

But the winds of time and his love blew away those mis-conceptions, and with that came the realization that I was going to get up…I was going to start breathing once again.

Man, do I love him, with every ounce of my being.

I still have those choke-up moments in realizing how far I’ve come…how much I’ve lived…

Those moments where I’m shocked at my soul’s capacity to survive…

My face’s ability to smile…

My arm’s ability to embrace…

But even in that astonishment,

I am never,

never,

astonished by my heart’s capacity to pump our love through my veins.

And with that knowledge, nearly four years later, I am able to live.

I am living.

I hit the wall…

But I stood up.

I’m standing.

Announcement

***I’d like to take a moment out of my life to make this announcement***

I like being me.

I like being the wife and widow of a hero.

I like the knowledge that I have the best of family, friends and pets.

I like the oddities of my being that I’m still being introduced to.

I like being introduced to them.

I like sunshine through my blinds when I awake.

I like telling my husband how in love with him I am, every night when I go to bed.

I like to dream of him.

I can survive the mornings when I don’t.

I like the warmth that overcomes me when I am reminded of the amazing things still out there for me to enjoy.

I like sitting in a coffee shop and lip syncing the words of a favorite song.

I like to sing them out loud, but spare the strangers around me.

I like when strangers become the people who get us through the days we never thought we’d survive.

I like how they are no longer strangers.

I like the days when I am ready to take on the world.

I like having the ability to forgive myself when I don’t.

I like when a sour time turns sweet.

I sometimes like celebrating the sweet over a glass of wine, sushi and foreign film.

I like turning up the volume on the foreign films, when I can’t hear them speaking.

I like that it doesn’t matter if the volume is up because I’m reading subtitles.

I like driving with my top down….convertible top.

I like looking down at my picture of Michael in the odometer and feeling an overwhelming sense of love take me over.

I like screaming out loud to him in reply….and smiling at the other drivers wondering why I am yelling to the heavens.

I like living.

I like having no fear for when the time comes that I will live no longer.

I like being Taryn Davis.

***You may now return to your regularly programmed life.***

Your Feet

But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me.
-Pablo Neruda

I Smile

Recent Photo From One of my 2011 Adventures

“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget.”
-Arundhati Roy

 

I must say, with each passing year it’s as if another layer of sludge is washed away from my life….The life that began the day Michael was killed. I life I used to loathe to the core of my being.

 

But for once, I’ve been watching, I’ve been learning. I’ve been trying to understand that which I don’t, and yet, with no answers I smile with the reflection.

 

I feel that so much has been bestowed upon me since becoming his widow, and yet, I find more of it that I love than I could ever hate. I’ve never looked away. And for once I am seeing the fruits of that sometimes painful action. I see the immeasurable gifts before me, and even more for my taking. And just as the quote states, I know it’s because I never allow myself to forget. Forget the nights we sometime wish we never had to remember, the moments where taking my life seemed like the only means to an end of all that I felt was taken from us both, the moments where I cursed God for continuing to test me and my strength I sometimes ignore.

 

Those moments, though they will probably occur time to time until I’m reunited with my love, are the ones I sit here at my computer smiling over.

 

The questioning, begging, and pleading have gone on an undetermined sabbatical and I feel free. And I feel Michael. And I feel excited for where our story will continue to lead me.

 

And I feel alive.

 

And it’s all I because I never forgot…..It’s all because I’ll never forget.

Loveinity

If I had to choose between loving you and breathing, I would use my last breath to say, "I Love You."

This Thursday will mark our 5 year wedding anniversary. As I've stated through the years, this day has always been more difficult for me than any other...including the day he was killed.

Read More...

It Took

It took 3 years to do it. To put up the Christmas tree.

 

The Christmas season has always been a favorite of mine. Growing up, I remember walking down the stairs to those twinkling lights and the warm sense of joy.

 

I loved the season so much that Michael and I got married on December 23rd.

 

After he died, the season and everything it meant died too.

 

Presents, joy, festivity….my heart screamed “Screw it all.”

 

But this year….3 plus years after Michael was killed, I’ve done it. I spent the day picking out new ornaments to add to our collection, a new tree skirt, mulled wine to sip on during decoration, candles to burn that smell of apple cider and spice. I even tuned the station to 95.5…Delilah…100% Christmas tunes…and I sang along…i whistled down the aisles.

 

I’ve spent the evening decorating our home and feeling that same feeling i did as a child, but with another type of warmth, the warmth of our love that still lives on…stronger than ever.

 

I’m excited to wake each day and look at the tree..the tree that has no gifts laid beneath it…since the one gift I could ever need is within me….planted by my one true love.

 

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.

~Laura Ingalls Wilder

Search

“What do I do now?”

“Where do I go?”

“How do I live?”

These are just a few of the many questions so many of us ask after the loss of our counterpart…our soul mate.

These questions helped fill my overactive brain from focusing on the reality that I needed to stop living in a nightmare and do it…venture into the wild and find the answers for myself…find life.

But I can say now, that the search needed little manpower, for in reality we cannot live life in questions….In search of some bigger picture. I think the only thing we can truly do is what Rainer Rilke said herself…”live the questions themselves” and hope…madly hope….that in the midst of living them they answer themselves. And that we are too busy living life to even care that they’ve been answered, for our life has become nothing but an outward expression of those answers.

For when it comes to it, the only questions worth answering are those that have a simple answer…”I did it for love.”

Guide

I’ve always taken my own path. I like the fresh, uncharted dirt beneath my feet, the barren terrain of land not crossed by others. Yes, as Michael would say, I lived in the clouds, a world of my own, but he never tried to change that, and in all honesty, I think it’s one of the things he loved so much about me. It’s the Christopher Columbus in me, which did lead me to him to begin with.

 

After Michael died though, I forgot about this land, the trail of life I was blazing. Soon my life became consumed by the “What would Michael want me to do?” I had lost my inner compass, my sense of direction, and leaned on Michael to show me the way.

 

This sustained me for a little while, but I felt Michael fading more in presence.

 

Then it hit me. How or why would I feel his presence and guidance when I was losing and forgetting that I was my guide all along. I was losing me, in this pursuit to let go of my steering wheel, hold my hands up and expect for  there not to be a crash.

 

Once I realized that to continue on my journey to him, my journey through this life without him, my journey, I had reclaim that girl that “lived in the clouds”. That girl that had a machete in one hand to cut her way through an alien world.

 

I’ve found her. Piece by piece, new and old me’s, gleam beneath the gravel of life they’ve been hidden in.

 

It feels good. To have that compass inside of me working. It feels good to know that at the end of my pioneering this life before me I’ll be with my soul mate.

 

I remembered that the only phrase I needed to ask myself the whole time, “What would Taryn do?” and it’s a phrase that has brought his loving presence back into my life more powerful than ever.

 

There is great meaning in life for those who are willing to journey.

-Jim England

ACL 2010

2009 ACL Festival

This weekend I’ll be at the Austin City Limits Music Festival. 8 stages, over a hundred bands, but to me it is so much more.

Last October, my best friend (and fellow widow) and I ventured out on the green grass, drinking wine from sports bottles, listening to amazing music, having a grief/stress free time.

Of course, since Michael’s death I’ve had many days that way. Worry free, almost to the point where I forget that he’s even dead, but what differentiated that festival weekend from anything else was the affect it had once the 3 days were over.

You see, after Michael died, the future was unbearable fathom. Minute by minute was as far as my mind and heart could comprehend. As time passed I could maybe look a month or two ahead, but after ACL happened the amazing happened. I went and bought tickets for the next year’s festival over a year in advance.

I couldn’t believe it, but it felt so good. 2 years after my soul mate’s passing, I had seen the possibility of looking forward to something not only in the future…but a year in the future!

So you see, this weekend is more than a music festival, it is a marker of what has allowed me to see and plan and get excited for life again. It is 3 days, that year ago allowed me to look 365 days ahead, allowing me to be set free from the fear of having to face another second without my other half.

 

“My interest is in the future because I am going to spend the rest of my life there”
-Charles F. Ketering

Once In A Lifetime

“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.”

– Mark Jenkins

It’s that time of year.

That time where I’m able to fulfill one of the biggest dreams Michael and I had.

To travel across the world.

I vowed after he died that I would take a once-in-a-lifetime trip once a year. The first being a 220 plus mile backpacking pilgrimage across Spain. The second was in Ireland. And this yearI will be hopping around the UK (London/Lake District).

They are 7 to 20 days where I am able to experience and see things we could have only once dreamed of. I experience them for both of us, which in return makes the time doubly amazing. The cherry on the top though, is having been able to experience these adventures with my fellow widows. Women I met due to tragedy, befriended due to commonality, and had by my side for this new chapter due to extreme luck (and hopefully a little help from Michael).

Greece, India, Africa, New Zealend…and the list goes on with future endeavors. A time to live to the fullest with my husband (invisibly) by my side, and the women who are my group of Indiana Jones….ready to explore new terrain, physically and emotionally.

As my own life has evolved, not only do I have these yearly excursions to look forward to, but I have a time of reflection to see how far I’ve gone….in miles and in healing. I look forward to it. Something I once loathed even saying…the future. And these trips are the perfect time once a year to commemorate my once in a lifetime life.

Below are photos of special ways I’ve incorporated my love into my adventures.

Push

One of the many hills Michael conquered.

Active Lifestyle….

I lived one.

I ran 5 days a week, did ab workout DVDs, went biking with Michael, and a little more here and there.

Now in comparison to Michael, I was sedentary, but he was my motivation to do that which I was active in to begin with.

Self care was something he was a huge advocate of, and feeling and looking my best made me feel great inside and out. Plus, it made me even prouder to stand next to my husband and be introduced as his wife.

Then it happened.

He was killed.

Suddenly I thought, “Screw it all.” I went out and ate everything I had cut from my diet. Steak, blizzards, Big Macs. I stopped caring about my it all, and hoped if anything, this lifestyle would make me see Michael sooner.

Well, it probably would, but with me looking like a sea world exhibition. Looking like someone he wouldn’t know…and I probably wouldn’t know either.

So I started. Started eating healthier, returning to a daily exercise routine, taking my dogs for that walk that their tales begged for.

It’s taken a while and I’ve just recently started pushing myself back to the level I was at when Michael was alive. I’ve moved from the elliptical to pavement and from hula hooping to weight lifting, but it’s happening.

So blinded by my grief and his death, I forgot me, I forgot the person he loves, I forgot that I am a living example of the man I am so in love with.

I feel him when I run, I feel him when I think I want to give up, I feel him when I look in the mirror, knowing he’d be standing next to me smiling.

Piece by piece his Taryn, my Taryn, is returning…and damn…it feels great.

A picture Michael took of me after a steep climb on the bike. When I reached the top, seeing him there made it all worth it.

Overwhelmed

It happens.

A song plays. A breeze brushes past my face. A scene from a movie crosses the screen. I stand in the kitchen for no certain reason. A sunset paints itself across the horizon. Our dog sticks his head out the window. I lay silently in bed.

These diminutive things take place, and from head to toe I am overwhelmed with how much I am in love with him. How much of his love gives me random moments of bliss and makes me thankful to be around to feel them.

It’s the equivalent to his 6’2 self wrapping his arms around me. A kiss of his lips on my forehead. Awakening to find him watching me.

It’s the same sensation, just in a new form. A form that makes all well in this tornado of a world I live in.

I don’t know where they come from or why, but they are a reminder of the capacity of happiness that is and can be felt in this soul of mine. A whisper from his soul into mine. A promise that he’s always with me. A promise that all will be well.

Losing Me

And remember, no matter where you go, there you are.

~Confucius

I remember the day. It was two months after Michael was killed and I found myself sitting on our big red chair, laptop in hand. Tears welled up in my eyes as I scrolled through the hundreds of photos I had of Michael. It would take a moment till I finally realized what I was doing. As I passed through each picture I would only look at Michael. When I finally looked over at myself, the real pain settled in my heart. A pain that recognized that I had not only lost my soul mate, but along with him, myself.

The twinkle in my eyes, the smile on my face, the glow of having my love near-by…all those things were gone, and I felt like an empty shell staring at what it once was when a soul inhabited it.

I must say, three years later, I know that those expressions I shared  in the moments where I looked up at him, kissed his lips, held his hand…those moments will never be recreated, as they were exclusive to the man that unearthed them from the person I was before his love came into my life. Yet on another note, as I’ve healed,  as I’ve grasped back onto the core or who Taryn is,  I’ve learned to once again love the life that still is before me. New expressions are exposed…expressions of love, laughter, happiness, and contentment.

I no longer mourn the loss of the person I was when Michael was alive. I can look at those same photos that once brought me tears and smile reminiscing over the feelings I felt at that very moment, feelings that manifested out of the rubble in a new form, shaped to the life I never thought I’d have, the life I will look back on in photographs with happiness…happiness over the person I once was, the person I became, and the person I continue to court on this strange, alien yet beautiful, life I call my own.

Rules

Being a widow is no easy thing.

From picking up the pieces , staring at them like they’re some foreign thing, and trying to create something semi-comprehensible….to the “outliers” (those are the people outside my situation), that try and put their two cents in…or in most cases…89 cents in, to what my life should be. There’s a lot going on. But if there is anything that I have learned, it’s to FIGHT THE POWER.

Create your own rules, take the path less traveled (Mr. Frost was on to something)! If someone asks you how you’re doing on a bad day, reply with “Really freakin’ horrible.” If someone tells you they’re sorry for you loss, tell them they shouldn’t be, because what you have had/do have is more then most will experience in a lifetime. Wear your wedding ring till you die. Take your wedding ring off after a month. Chop off your hair while eating a gallon of Ben and Jerry’s. Run a marathon. Remarry. Never Date.  Jump out a plane. Stay in your house watching soaps. Get a tattoo. Travel the world. Make a daily bucket list. Redefine what others have tried to define for you. Scream to the high heavens that you are a widow and SO proud of it. Surround yourself by people of all walks of life; They’ll either guide you where you need to be or help reinforce what you already knew in your heart. MAKE YOUR OWN RULES!

The truth is, I have never read a whole book on grieving or widowhood…I knew for me, I had to do the one thing that has no manual, guide or rules…and that’s to follow my heart. Has that put me in situations that may have been awkward for others, if not only myself? Yes. Has it brought me joy? Yes. Has it brought me struggle? Double yes. But the thing is, every night when I go to sleep, every step forward or step backward I have taken has been decided on by me. Not “outliers”, not “How To’s”, not by family and friends….just me. It’s because of that fact that I never have regrets…because no matter what the outcome, I know that I was the one who decided, chose, picked, and did it. And no matter what….that willingness to have faith in myself is something I’ll never have remorse over.

Fight the power…grasp your chaos…savor your solitude…celebrate your company…live your life…embrace YOUR rules.

“All your life people are going to try to tell you who you are. And sometimes it’s going to be tempting to believe them. But you must remember that you are who you feel in your heart and your head and down to your toes. You are who you feel deep down in your soul and radiating out your skin, and no one’s opinion (except maybe your own) can change that.”- La Joie Dd “All your life people are going to try to tell you who you are. And sometimes it’s going to be tempting to believe them. But you must remember that you are who you feel in your heart and your head and down to your toes. You are who you feel deep down in your soul and radiating out your skin, and no one’s opinion (except maybe your own) can change that.”

– La Joi de Vivre

1157

One restless night of blog surfing, I saw someone post the exact number of days since they lost their soul mate.

I must admit, I stopped long ago in counting the exact days and months since Michael was killed. Knowing such numbers, especially in the never-ending days in the beginning of my grief, seemed like mental suicide. As much as I’m a believer that each day on earth is a day closer to them in heaven, I couldn’t fathom marking and taking note of each day without him…that is a loss in my being that no month, date, calendar, or clock can construe.

Yet I admit, as I stared at the widowers days numbered, I was tempted to find out my own. I found a site that allowed me to find out the duration from date to date…

“Submit” was clicked.

1157 days can be converted to one of these units:

* 99,964,800 seconds
* 1,666,080 minutes
* 27,768 hours
* 165 weeks (rounded down)

I stared at the numbers.

I wasn’t numb. I wasn’t in shock. I simply looked at them, shook my head, and closed the page.

As much as I can’t believe that it has been that long since everything happened (and had I been earlier out I may have had a different reaction) I’ve learned one thing above all;
In 1157 days I have struggled, cried, given up, stood back up, laughed, smiled, grown, cried some more, scorned the heavens above, thanked the heavens above, given up on life, taken back my life, fallen to my knees…prevailed.

I look at 1157 with pride, not pain.

I have survived 1157 days without my soul mate physically here. I have fallen deeper in love with the man who took a new form and shown me a new perspective on our amazing relationship and my new life.

Just as I couldn’t count the days or months these past 3 years because I felt that no number would ever bring back my love or erase the heartache felt because of his death…no number or date can be put on the length and depth of our love…but when I am given the chance (or the curiosity) to see a number, it will be one that reminds me of the strength born from both of those things.

My name is Taryn Davis. My life ended 1157 days ago….but in the last 1157 days it has come back from the dead…stronger then ever…fueled by the essence of any life…the knowledge that is has true love on its side.

Embrace

“I don’t understand what’s happened to me?”

“It’s huge. You’ve finely embraced the life you hadn’t planned on.”

This quote from a movie just keeps echoing in my brain.

I’ve noticed that, with quotes and words…they have a way of sticking to the sides of your mind during different parts of our life.

Some temporarily to help you get through the day or empower you to march on, others to bring you comfort in knowing that your pain has been felt by another, and in this case, to remind me that as much as i may have never fathomed it….I’m embracing this life I have.

The funny thing is…I don’t understand it either.

I guess it’s like most things in my life since Michael was killed…out of nowhere, it just happened.

I guess the only way to describe it is like being in line for a REALLY scary rollercoaster. One that you didn’t want to ride but got pulled into line for. Plus on top of that…it’s a really looonnnggg line, so any hesitation and fear you have in actually getting on is enhanced by the fact that you must now wait, watch, and either walk through the other coaster-goers (head down of course) back to the entrance you came in through, or stay in line, hope for the best, and take the exit you were made to take. If you decide the latter route, I (at least) am one of those folks that has to ask everyone around me if they have been on this ride before; “Is it scary?”, “How many times have you been on it?”, “It’s not that bad? Are you sure?” and of course, as the questions take place you hear screaming from those who have already met their fate with the metal mammoth.  Then I get jumpy like, ‘I’m going to do this, woo…yeah!”, while secretly hoping that I can play the “I really have to go to the restroom” card.

But then it happens! You look up and the wait is over and you are asked to take your seats (hopefully you’ll be sat next to one of the new friends you’ve made in line). The bars go down and before you can even anticipate anything, your zooming off.

That’s how life’s been after Michael’s death. Lots of fear, having to ask others who have been on this ride before, or on for the first time, how they feel about it, and before you know it you’re going full speed ahead, with plenty of loops and turns thrown in.

I guess the important thing to do when the ride finally takes off is to put your arms up, keep your eyes open, scream as loud as you can, and when it concludes, if given the chance, get back in line and ride it all over again.

Embrace the life you hadn’t planned on.

Kora

It started with a call from CJ (my brother in law), letting me know that him and Kenzi we’re heading to the hospital to have their baby girl.

Rewind to 9 months earlier; it was another dinner and movie night at our home and Kenzi and CJ walked in, stood in the entrance and announced they were going to have a baby. When the words came out of their mouths, it was one of the moments in which the finality of Michael not being there to be a part of this chapter of their lives sank in.

Those moments aren’t few and far between, but there are those certain times where it really hits you that the moments where you are supposed to be hand in hand to congratulate your sister on her pregnancy, or see another sister walk down an aisle, or my mom and dad hold their first grandchild, aren’t going to happen.

You see, in the 3 years that my baby’s been dead, I’ve come to terms and accepted the reality of us not having our beautiful children, sharing exciting moments in our lives with family, and growing old together. I guess I wasn’t quite prepared or had even thought about what it would be like when our loved one’s started to do those things, and how I would react.

But as they stood in the entrance, waiting for my reply that October evening, I smiled and the first words to exit my heart and then my mouth were, “Congratulations! Wow! All I can say is that Michael would have loved to be here to tell you how much I know it means for him to be an uncle to your child.”

I knew that over the duration of her pregnancy, and the duration of Kora’s life, I’d be able to physically show them my excitement and joy in being her Aunt, but at that moment, I just wanted them to know what was most important for me to have them understand, and that is the fact that as Michael’s soul counterpart, he will be there in everything I do, and in all the moments I have with her, and that is something I had learned that only other widows may truly understand.

But with tears in her eyes, She smiled and said, “I know.”

After that understanding and acceptance of what I know to be true, I became their biggest cheerleaders during her pregnancy. Cards for first ultra-sounds and doctor appointments, taking pregnancy photos, creating a stock of ultra cool baby things that Michael and I would have laughed over, and even buying her alcohol-free wine for our dinner nights.

I was liberated by the fact that not only me, but Michael, could celebrate in this special occasion, and they knew, understood, and liked it.

Today I went to the hospital to see the new family, and the first thing they did was open the card I brought. Signed by my family: Michael, Me, Charlie and Maximus.

They set it on display and for the next 3 hours we laughed about how big Michael was when he was born (10.5lbs), talked about who Kora looked like, and for a moment, it was if Michael was standing behind me as I held Kora, his warm hands placed on my shoulders, looking down on our niece. For a moment, life was as perfect as their baby.

If it hadn’t had been for Kora, I wouldn’t have learned that as some life’s big moments occur sans Michael, that I actually have him there more then ever, and feel like life is as it’s supposed to be.

Thank you, Kora.

I promise you that Michael and I will show you the love that we have shown each other, and with that, I know your life will be amazing.

It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us aunts and uncles.
~Johann Schiller

Aspire

After he was killed, it was so easy to stay down.

Barricaded not only in my house but my emotions, thoughts and feelings. I’d torture myself with not looking at the memories as a gift, but more so, a reminder of that which could never be again. Even as the light would creep in through the darkness, I still didn’t allow myself to feel and live the way I already knew how to live when he was alive, but instead the way I thought I was supposed to live because he was dead. How can I exist, let alone smile and feel alive with my soul mate not here?

No one wanted to accept that I’m madly in love with a dead man, so separating myself from others and feeling that I could only live in a bubble became a notion I was ready to fulfill, as long as it meant I could live in his love.

But that’s the thing…I wasn’t.

The love we share is unrelenting, full of life, an explorer of the world and all the emotions out there waiting for us to feel them. It’s a love that does not sit and wait for something to happen, but goes out and gets it. A love that defines the infinite and creates feelings in which words have not been created to describe.

But what was I doing?

The opposite. Afraid to go out into a world that I was letting the fear of the unknown and those who did not know hold me back. A fear that smiling, laughing…living would make others believe that suddenly my love and pain was waning for Michael.

But those notions, each and everyone noted and unnoted, are things in retrospect that I have learned were my own aversion from embracing this life before me.

So I stopped.

Now my life is defined by the love that I know. The love that is compiled of all the things I spoke about. The love that has made me feel alive after I died inside, the love that grabbed the paddles, placed them on my corpse of a life, and recuperated me into living the life that I know Michael is looking down on with pride…and maybe a little envy 🙂 and most of all gratification in the fact that I did what he was whispering through my soul, but did not allow myself to hear with the glaring pitch of grief…that to honor his life, and the gifts he’s left me with, is to be the woman he fell in love with and proudly announced as his wife…to be Taryn.

“The reason why all men honor love is because it looks up, and not down; aspires and not despairs”
Ralph Waldo Emerson

His Love…His Gift

“Love is the voice under all silences, the hope which has no opposite in fear; the strength so strong mere force is feebleness: the truth more first than sun, more last than star…”

e.e. cummings

Do you know?

Know what your love has gotten me through, lifted me above, allowed me to see and my heart to follow?

I’m not sure. But one day you will know when I’m back in front of you and able to share the places your love has guided me to, and the people, the amazing people, that reminded me when all else failed, to listen to that voice, that hope and that strength that you gave me as your gift.

The gift I’ll never be able to repay, but the gift I swear to wear out, over-indulge in, stretch thin, and never get tired of.

Thank you for your love. Thank you for choosing me to give it to.

Parenthesis

As noted last weekend, the 21st marked 3 years since my hero’s death, but tradition continues of being around amazing widows leading up to or after the date.

This past week we were in Fayetteville, NC for our annual golf tournament for the organization, followed by our annual AWP Skydive!

Like all of our events, we have a definite melting pot of women at all different places in their journey. We spent time racing around in golf carts, talking till 4 in the morning, and lastly, suiting up to jump 13,500 feet out of a perfectly good plane for my 3rd year in a row.

During all of the festivities I have to say that I have never laughed so hard in the 3 years since Michael’s passing. Not just laughing, not even snorting laughter (which I’m known for), but hurled over holding my belly laughter.

Each year that I can make on notch on the widowhood belt, I’m left amazed at all that my fellow widows do for me in the continual process of healing a heart that has gone through the most devastating of losses.

As the trip came to a close, sleep deprived, in need of a shower or two, and smeared eyeliner accompanying the proud bags underneath my eyes, I looked in the mirror to see a noticeable change after my three not long enough days.

Not just a brighter sparkle in my eyes, but more evident, very well defined smile lines on each side of my mouth. Two lines that we’re a parenthesis to the grin that never left my face during my time with them. Lines that I proudly wear and look forward to deepening as the year’s pass with my fellow widows ,who help me make the stories that form the evidence of a live well lived.

I love you all!

3

Three…

Three whopping years since it happened.

Since my soul mate went to the other side and I ventured out in the unfamiliar world called widowhood.

The Angel-versary is always a time where I look back on the time that has passed, things that have been conquered, feelings that have been realized, and growth that has taken place. As I drove in my car one evening, thinking of these things, thinking of THREE, one thing took precedent.

In the rehashing of all that has transpired, what came to mind the most were the three words that have got me through it all. Three words that he said to me for the last time on May 21st, 2007. Three words that have not only carried through my grief but helped me soar above it’s grasps into a life where smiles are more prevalent then frowns, and memories are recalled while making new ones.

Three words that on this three year anniversary will be heard in my heart and felt in my veins. Three words that have defined my being.

Three….

I LOVE YOU.

If There Was No You

Alright, Alright, Alrighhhttt!

Long time, no post.

Just heard this song. Love it. It’s crazy how different songs I can connect to the lyrics in what I would want to tell Michael, or how I feel about him. Then there are those that I feel like Michael would want me to hear as if he was telling me, “Yeah, babe…that’s how it is..that’s how I love you..that’s how I feel about you.”

Well, I’ll stop with the ramblings. Here’s one by Brandi Carlile I’m feeling.

When I see myself i’m seeing you too
As long as I remember and I’m feeling like I knew
That my jokes aren’t funny the truth isn’t true
If there was no you

If you were my boat in the deep blue sea
I probably sink you down
I know I should have thanked you for carrying me
But for you I would happily drown

Out on your way the darkest night the longest day
I know what to say to make you laugh
And nothing you could do
Could make me turn my back on you
When you’re looking for a fight i’m your man
When you need a friend you got my hand

And what i really mean what I’m trying hard to say
Is that I’m counting on you and you got me too
Our secrets aren’t safe I’m singing out of tune
If there was no you if there was no you

Out on your way darkest night the longest day
I know what to say to make you laugh
And nothing you could do
Could make me turn my back on you
When you’re looking for a fight I’m your man
When you need a friend you got my hand
When you need a friend you got my hand
You got my hand

Sure of You

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. ‘Pooh?’ he whispered.
‘Yes, Piglet?’
‘Nothing,’ said Piglet, taking Pooh’s hand. ‘I just wanted to be sure of you.’”
–A.A. Milne

I’d be lying if there weren’t moments where I begged for a sign, dream, feeling that you were here…around.

Like a detective I’d search for clues or signals…but my magnifying lens, in turn, seemed to blind me.

It’s not a matter of the physical…that was something I had acclimated to not having or needing long before you were taken. It was more of that sense that in my deepest moments of despair you’d appear out of smoke to wipe away my tears.

But I forced it.

I begged and pleaded.

And it equated to me not feeling what was there all along.

Your presence…unfaltering presence..in a place that I could not see with my eyes, or figure out with my mind…

but felt it lodged, deep in my heart.

I’m sure of you.

I’m sure of you.

How Much?

It’s been nearly 3 years since I saw this video (it’s been stuck on a broken computer), and nearly 4 since it was filmed in Eagle River, AK by my baby (you can see him in the reflection of my sunglasses).

I sure don’t sound the same, and definitely don’t look the same, but I sure do feel the same each time I watch it.

Love you mucho mucho.

Happiness – Provided By Me

“I define comfort as self-acceptance. When we finally learn that self-care begins and ends with ourselves, we no longer demand sustenance and happiness from others.” -Jennifer Louden

Let me just say how much I love this quote. I really should print it on cards and hand it out to those who make the snide remarks that I will not be able to be happy until “move on” or somehow refuse to acknowledge the smile on my face when they see no one is standing at my side.

In my later years of college, single, partied out, and facing a world sans boyfriend…I found self-acceptance. I learned to love ME as ME. Flaws, bad decisions and all (and believe me when I say had a few). That was a trying time, as I believe we sometimes are our worst critics. But I did it, I peeled the layers of my onion and saw a new life before me, one like play-doh; bright, colorful and ready for me to mold.

Well, a little less than 9 months later Michael came back into my life and my own personal happiness was their, but enhanced by my soul mate…caught on fire. Maybe that’s why separation did nothing but enhance our relationship more, not strain it, because the happiness never faded, and still hasn’t to this day. Others just seem to have a hard time grasping on to the “sustenance and happiness” which still run through this widow’s veins.

So as I walk on this journey, I’ve dusted off my “self-care”…which was gathering dust…and decided to continue the path of happiness I found on my own, found enhanced by my soul mate, and found resurrected like a phoenix out of the ashes.

Our Ring

 

It is no secret…. my engagement ring is part of me. When he slipped it on my finger that September day, it symbolized more then our unity, but more so our eternal love, undying dedication and taking this journey together…never faltering.

It is a main reason that I wanted Michael cremated with his on. It eternalized it. It cemented what was already done.

When Michael went to pick mine out, he asked “What do you want, baby?”

Of course, being the girl, I had preconceptions on what I thought I’d want it to look like, how it would be cut, etc.

But it was in that moment, as his green eyes stared down at me endearingly…that it all melted away.

“I want you to pick something out, that when you look at it, you think of me.” I replied.

It didn’t have filigree nor was it channeled with many stones. It was a simple cathedral setting with a princess cut diamond.

But as simple as its setting, oh how that diamond glowed. Its facets reflecting colors I had never seen. A simple cut to hide its many complexities.

I stare at the ring so often, and finally see why Michael chose it. It’s the perfect combination of us both…it’s our ring ❤

Lyrics and Tunes

Music…it’s been a part of my journey of loss. A companion to my grief. A voice of celebration in my happiness. A tear to roll down my face in sadness.

I sat and watched a film this evening. 3 minutes in, I knew the soundtrack would be mine. Taken out of my grocery funds, I went to itunes to spend my few dollars… they filled me up and made me feel full with their lyrics and sounds.

From the beginning of my loss, when “Ache” and “Empty” were on repeat. To the days where “Fix You” and “Bruises” took their place on the CD. I continuously find these words…these emotions…waiting for me to find them…to push play…to devour my ears with their gifts.

They are a part of my salvation, a part of my grief, a part of my healing…a part of my life.

Wait– Alexi Murdoch ( The song that inspired me to write this blog tonight)

Feel I’m on the verge of some great truth
Were I’m finally in my place
But I’m thumbling still for proof
And it’s cluttering my space

Casting shadows on my face
I know I have a strength to move ahead
I can hardly leave my room
So I’ll sit perfectly still
And I’ll listen for a tune
When the mind is on the moon

And if I stumble
And if I stall
And if I slit now
And if I should fall
And if I cant be all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me

Cause everywhere I seem to be
I am only passing through
I dream these days about the sea
Always wake up feeling blue
Wishing I could dream of you

So if I stumble
And if I fall
And if I slit now
And loose it all
And if I can’t be all that I could be
Will you, will you wait for me

And wait for me
And wait for me
And wait for me
Won’t you wait for me
And wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
Won’t you wait for me
And wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
Won’t you wait for me
And wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
Won’t you wait for me
And wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
Won’t you wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
Please wait for me
Won’t you wait for me

Guilt

I wanted to touch base on guilt, as I believe it has played a role in my grief with Michael’s loss.

The guilt that he died and I lived

The guilt of the things he never got to experience that I know have been.

The guilt of having eyes to still see this world’s beauty and ears to hear its melodies.

The guilt of knowing that he would have handled this pain, loss, and life better then I could, if it had been me to go instead.

The guilt that is created in my over-thinking mind…fictional and factual.

The guilt has sub-sided though, as I know it is a belt of weights I buckled around my waist…a belt that never was supposed to weigh on my hips, my being, my soul.

You see, guilt was never a component of our life (even though I may have used it as a defense mechanism in a disagreement…bad Taryn), so it makes no sense that I would make it a part of my life now, and the love that is still ours.

But I apologize, to Michael and the others around me, for the moments where I let guilt’s claws take their grasp on a moment that could have been put in the light it deserved.

Now I can’t say that it doesn’t creep up at moments where life is a-glow and I feel as if I’m surrounded by a bubble of positivity…but those are just the workings of my brain….
not my heart.

“Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death.”
-Coco Chanel

In the Box

So a little story… a story I love to tell.

It was February 12th, 2009, and I decided to do something I had given up after Michael’s passing…create homemade Valentine’s Day cards. Making cards was one of my favorite things and with it being a dismal part of the year, I was secretly hoping it would lift my spirits. Michael used to love recieving them and seeing all the little touches I’d add to make it special.

So I pulled out my box of paints, papers, embellishments and more. I grabbed enough to strat creating and sat at my kitchen table. The first card was made without a hitch, but it was as I created my second one that it happened…grief decided to make an uninvited visit, and the tear’s soon followed. Oh, what I would do to have spent that Valentines with Michael, to just hear him say, “I love you”…those thoughts and more clouded my brain as fast as the tears clouded my eyes.

But no!! I could not let this stop me…”I just need to find even brighter papers and paints, maybe the perfect quote on vellum….I’ll go back to the box and continue forward. ” was what I told myself. So I got up, went back to closet and pulled out the box, digging for something…I didn’t quite know what. I sifted through a rainbow of colored papers, paintbrushes, cardstock, and more. I lifted one stack and noticed a tiny sliver of paper with the ink of a sharpie seeping through the back.

I knew it had to be something written by Michael, he always wrote with sharpies. The pain from my very recent breakdown gave me a moment of hesitation is which I feared to turn it over and read it’s words.

I put my hand into the box and slowly pulled out the ruled paper. Sitting on the floor, I flipped it over….

“Happy Valentine’s Day”

Written in his handwriting (all caps)….waiting for me in that box, in that closet, in my office….waiting for me to find it 2 days before Valentine’s Day, to let me know he was there.

“A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside is hid.”
-J. R. R. Tolkien

He Did It

Michael did.

Not through buildings, books, televisions or how much money he had in his account- but through lives.

The lives he touched with his words, kindness, support. The lives he touched through his love, encouragement and unfaltering friendship.

He did it. He did it without even trying.

He created something that will last forever. If not only through those people who were affected by it, but the places where his feet have set or his hands have gently grazed.

He understood the definition of forever by not aiming for it or trying to reach it as the ultimate goal…he just lived, and when he left, it sat on the front door step for me to bear witness to, to learn from, and continue on his “forever” by slowly creating my own.

Do you have a lighter?

I’ve been able to reach the life I deserved. Just as stated above. But then the sparks fizzled…went out…as that life slipped through my fingers with fate’s plan.

This past weekend though, in the presence of those acquainted with the loss of their love, their soul mates, the sparks reignited, pilot light by pilot light.

I am coming to learn to ignite the sparks and reach the life I now deserve as Michael’s widow.

I apologize for clouding the hero he taught me to be with grief’s evil grasp.

But i have not perished.

And I will win this battle…..

This life without you here.

Happily Ever After

I try not to think too much on all the things we would have done, family we would have built and life together we would have lived.

I try not to imagine it too much, for their is a pain associated with the what-ifs and that which we were unable to fulfill as the soul mates we are.

We lived our fairy tale. Our own Disney movie.

Like a knight on a white horse, you came and saved me from myself, took me to a safe place and calmed all my fears and hurt. I wish we could mourn together the losses we both share, for I know you mourn them too.

I think people look at me now and think all is shattered all is lost with the possibilities we once shared.

Not all was.

It isn’t.

We did live happily ever after, even though it the plot took a twist and all the characters we would have wanted to add to our tale never came to fruition.

The fairy tale ending didn’t happen though, and I will admit that.

For what we share has no ending.

Turn the Light On

The other night I was enjoying dinner with one of my great friends. She is also a widow and will be coming up on two years since the loss of her soul mate.

As we sat and enjoyed our meals, drinks, conversation and company, it became obvious that in a restaurant full of people, we were the only ones laughing, smiling, toasting and enjoying the evening to the fullest. At one point, a waiter even came up and commented on how we brought “happiness” to the abode.

So what was our secret? It wasn’t the drinks, but more so – the stories we were sharing, the struggles we are currently facing (that we confirmed were normal), the love of our heroes, and this crazy life that we’re daily trying to figure out. Conversations that if most were listening in on, they may feel sad for us and the hardships we face. Yet, it became obvious to me that we are doing and were acting as we did when our loves we’re still here, because it was in that evening that they were brought to life.

Brought to life in the way that we were not hiding from our realities, but embracing them and the fact that we have come this far do to the love that still burns in our souls and beings.

And like the quote above says, it’s about remembering to turn on the light. I can’t say I always remember to, but with the right people and the right spirit,

I am more often.

Note to self:

Life was grand with my love by my side.

As i come up on the reality of him not being on this earth for nearly 3 years, and face another year, another number, in which his existence is void to the outside world, I’d be lying if I said it’s gone smoothly.

I’ve struggled with an impairing grief and the pain. The nights where he felt so close that I reached out to the emptiness in front of me in hopes to feel him. Times in which the memories were so fresh, that I could paint their visions with my tears. Moments where I fell to my knees with the pain of the past, and what should have been our future. Yet through it all, I’ve learned, grown, and felt him there by my side.

Yet now, I face another war, another type a grief. Now, I face an opposite reality. One in which I beg for a dream, a sign, a feeling that I am not alone on this journey. A grief that comes not in the obvious, but in the mundane.

I feel strong and have happiness in my life, from what he has instilled in my heart, but I wish sometimes to go back to those raw moments of pain from a life that didn’t seem to far away.

I think that it’s been in my growth, my realization of the person that I am becoming and the person michael always knew was in me, that I have struggled and grieved over recently. I think I may be the one causing the disconnect and grief, over the disappointment that I could not have made and shown the strength that I never wanted to admit I had, the strength that is the sole reason for my existence right now, the strength Michael knew could take our love and relationship beyond the darkest of days.

This year I want to grab life, and make it what I know it can be, full of his presence, yet still full of those moments where my strength will be tested, just enough to remind me that it’s still there.

I’m always in love with Michael, even when life isn’t going where I thought it would.

Now though, I want to take the love I have with him always, and love the life I sometimes despise, the life that at times i fall victim to with it’s many forms of grief…I want to be in love with it for the life it blessed me with before tragedy, yet the one I have in front of me.

My life is different and the one I will lead will be different, but I can take that which isn’t different to get me through………

our love and the strength born from it.

The Beat

2.28.09

As I lay and feel my

heart

beat,

I think of lying against

your perfect body.

Beat

after

beat

it throbbed against you,

like two drums playing a flawless duet.

Tears run down my face

thinking of its sound….

familiar sound.

2010

Well, it’s 2010.

I remember going into 2008 without Michael. It was the first year in which no history or memories would include him,  a year in which reality took it’s place next to me on my throne of grief. It’s funny how my mind also worked in ways to revert back to a time when he was still living. I’d sign checks with 2007, set dates with friends on the phone or email with that year… it was, in a way, symbolic of my heart holding on to something not tangible… going into a year with Michael by my side.

Each year, the ball has dropped, and I’ve taken on at different capacities… 365 days of self reflection, self growth, setbacks, happiness, grief, pain, joy, curiosity, dreams, nightmares and more. With each year though, the hesitation and reluctance to accept the current year I’m in, has fallen to the wayside and I am becoming more aware and open to my present and all the gifts it holds.

Each year is lined with the sour notes of with my life without Michael, though positive thoughts and actions have taken place.  I have learned that I am able to take on things (like a new year), with the knowledge that I feel him rooting me on and invisibly holding my hand when I am open to living life the way I did before tragedy struck.

So it’s with that knowledge, that I will embrace 2010 and hope to feel his presence every time I laugh, smile, take on the world and explore all it’s beauty.

Happy New Year!

“Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year. Even when a new century begins it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols.” ~Thomas Mann

Broken Heart

Sometimes I wonder how.

I had the Johnny and June idea about our life together. One of us would die and within a couple of months the other would die of a broken heart.

Fast forward to almost 3 years later, and that theory has been proven wrong…..Even though there have been many times I’ve begged for it’s brokenness to take over the rest of my body to finally reunite me with Michael.

I didn’t  know how it could still beat, other then that it must be held together by the eternal remnants of our love.

But lately, I’ve thought of “E.R.” or “Grey’s”.  A doctor will be doing some sort of open-heart surgery when the patient suddenly flat-lines. The paddles won’t work and in a last ditch effort, the doctor pulls the heart out of it’s chest and starts pumping it with his two hands.

The night I heard Michael died, i remember putting my hand  over my heart and feeling as if it had stopped, as if I was hollow. I wanted to give up and at times prepared to raise that white flag, but just like the doctor with the patient, I felt as if Michael began pumping me back to life with those rugged and callused hands of his.

At first I despised as it  got stronger, yet with time have cried tears of happiness as I felt all its capacity fill my being once again with the love and memories that made it once pound in his presence….The feelings and times that had, for so long, been clouded my by own despair.

My heart is broken.

My heart is healing.

My heart still beats in the warmth of your hands.

It beats to tell the story of our love and pulsate your undying words through my veins…..

“I Love You, Taryn.”

……..

And that my friends, is how a broken heart still works.