FULL Disclosure – I was messing around with my site and completely erased everything. I know that may be enough to send most people over the edge, but I have decided to take this as an opportunity to revamp the whole thing. Originally, I had started my blog with my daily responses to Megan Devine’s writing course, Writing Your Grief. I am proud of the work I did there and there may be times I revisit those posts and repost them her. However, I want to move on.

I am a day counting – although I am not as vigilant as I once was. Today is day 839 since Gary’s last breath. The post below was written and originally posted on day 596. I like this one so I will share it again now – on the new Gea, the Goat Blog.

I haven’t posted anything in a looooong time. Much has happened and progress has been made. However, I am still widowed. I am still grieving. I am still searching for what’s next. I am still very sad most days. No matter how much progress is made, the fact is, I am still missing my person every moment of every day.

In the interim, I have worked with a life coach that specializes in working with widows. The one-on-one work I did with Teresa and the intense group sessions were life changing. I have journaled laboriously and have used my own words to help focus my progress. I have gone to Camp Widow to meet, in person, the people that have helped to shape my new life. I have faced every trigger; in fact I have run towards the triggers in order to welcome in the uncomfortable feelings so that I better understand them. All of this, everything I’ve done, I have done because I accept the challenge of my life and our love.

Gary is with me. He is very close, and I can feel him in my life. However, I miss his physical presence. I miss his touch. I miss his hugs and kisses. I miss holding his hand in the hardware store. I miss his jokes. I miss his devotion to me. I miss coming home to him. I miss his help. I miss his ears listening to my day. I miss sharing meals with him. I miss laughing about the kids. I miss planning what comes next. I miss him so much that the “missing him” is in every thought.

But Gary is with me. He is very close, and I feel him in my life. I have come to acknowledge the love that is evident in every tear. I have come to realize, on a very deep level, that life costs something. Love costs something. And I would pay it over and over and over again for the time I had with Gary. All of this is worth it. In October of 1985, if you would have told me that Gary would die at the age of 56, I would STILL have agreed to all of it. We had exactly 13,202 days together. To some that may seem like a long time. That isn’t enough for me. I want so many more. The truth is, in our love story, we had 13,202 days together in the physical world. But our souls are connected, and the love story continues but dynamics have changed.

I don’t exactly know what that means. That’s ok. I think knowledge is insignificant when it comes to real love. As humans, we like labels. We want the words to understand exactly what is going on. But the problem is, we cannot quantify the one thing that we “know” to be true: LOVE. You cannot prove love. I cannot prove most of anything I have written in this post. That’s ok. I think knowledge is insignificant when it comes to real love.

It is almost Day 600 and that seems impossible to me. I have learned a lot during this time.

1. I am strong; much stronger than I ever knew… but exactly as strong as Gary always said I was.
2. My children, my SIL and DIL, and my grandchildren are the best in the world. They have allowed me to exist and grieve in my way and they have given me such love. I will be eternally grateful to them.
3. I am in charge of the setting expectations for the other people in my life. If they don’t meet them, it’s on me… I expected more than they could deliver. They didn’t disappoint me; they only could do what they could do. I set the bar too high. I know this is a true statement because they were unable to be there for me.
4. I am worthy; worthy of joy, worthy of love, worthy of happiness, worthy of laughter, worthy of the best that I can find in this world. Gary found me worthy and now I do too.
5. Joy and grief can co-exist. The duality is jarring but it is present in each breath. It has been said that a widow will carry grief with her for the rest of her days. I believe that grief changes you on a cellular level (much like becoming a mother); the imprint is deep and impacts everything. But luckily….
6. “Everything will be OK.” This was something my husband said ALL of the time. “OK” can mean lots of things to lots of people. To me, “OK” means love. Love is everything.

I bought myself a ukulele in February 2023. I have taught myself some chords and I love the joy that playing daily has brought me. I am currently enamored with a song that I play every day. It is by Scott Miller and the Commonwealth entitled I’m Right Here, My Love.

Here are the lyrics:

Can you hear me crying? I’m right here, my love.
The unknown is frightening. I’m right here, my love.
Worlds far apart can’t separate us.
And I can hear you crying. I’m right here, my love.

Can you recall my kiss? I’m right here, my love.
I wish life was endless. I’m right here, my love.
But living costs something and pay it we must.
But I will keep your kiss. I’m right here, my love.

Can you feel me tremble? I’m right here, my love.
Does it feel like you remember? I’m right here, my love. 
The future’s assured in the pulse of our blood.
I can feel you tremble. I’m right here, my love.

Can you sit closer? I’m right here, my love.
Now watch me pass over. I’m right here, my love.
We did not give in and we did not give up.
I’ll watch you cross over. I’m right here, my love.

Can you hear me crying? I’m right here, my love.
Thunder and lightning. I’m right here, my love.
Worlds far apart can’t separate us.
And I can hear you crying. I’m right here, my love.

I wrote a few more verses:

Can you feel me struggle?  I’m right here, my love. 
Sometimes the pain feels double.  I’m right here, my love. 
But loving so deeply means hurting so much. 
I can see you struggle.  I’m right here, my love. 

Can you see the stream of my tears?  I’m right here, my love. 
They are a flood of my fears.  I’m right here, my love. 
Each tear tells a story that’s only for us. 
I’ll kiss away your tears.  I’m right here, my love. 

Can you tell I’m frozen?  I’m right here, my love. 
Does it seem that my heart’s broken?  I’m right here, my love. 
Your heart’s loving more since I filled up your cup. 
I tell you you’re not broken.  I’m right here, my love. 

Can you almost see it?  I’m right here, my love. 
Can you see through the trees, dear?  I’m right here, my love. 
I do accept the challenge of my life & our love. 
Now, I can almost see it.  I’m right here, my love. 

Being a widow and missing my person through every breath of every day is hard. But I accept the challenge of my life and our love. Having Gary as my person is worth all of this, every single second, every single tear, every single laugh, every single thing.