Category: Strength

Home

I have never been good at making decisions. I probably never will be. It’s not that I am indecisive, when it’s important, I know what I want, but in the words of Monica Gellar, I have an uncontrollable need to please people. And that’s not the best feeling in the world because you can never, ever please everybody all at once, which then leaves you feeling jittery, anxious and actually quite down on yourself. I loathe confrontation, until it’s absolutely necessary, and then I kind of let anger take over and go too far in the other direction. I want everyone around me to be happy to the detriment of my own happiness at times. Ash was very good about helping me jump through these hurdles. He was the exact opposite of me in this regard. The only person he cared about pleasing was himself (I don’t mean that to sound as negative as it does, it’s just the truth), he did not bend to make others happy and while it may have taken him slightly longer than an eternity to make a decision, he was rather decisive when it came right down to it.

Recently, I made a huge decision that “they” (fucking them) say you’re not supposed to make within the first year after a major loss. The funny thing about this decision, for me, it wasn’t difficult. Ash and I moved into our current house because it’s what he wanted. Our prior home had 3 levels, many stairs, bedrooms on the top floor, laundry on the bottom and with his health (even before the cancer), it was too much for him. Too many stairs, too much yard, too much house, too much maintenance. Our current house is all one level and perfectly fine but has never felt like home. Add in the fact that Ash, husband, father, passed away in the living room, and I’d just assume burn it to the ground than live in it. (Don’t worry, I’m not planning to burn it down, just making sure you get the picture.) It’s never felt like “home”, we have no emotional attachment to it, the boys are so uncomfortable in it, they share a room even though they each have their own rooms, all our memories here are of our husband and father being sick and ultimately watching that sickness literally suck the life out of him. Which in a way sucked the life out of our “home”.

This past Friday, I officially purchased our new home site. It was a decision that I did not make lightly. As a hobby, I am a bit obsessed with real estate. I’m constantly watching the MLS, tracking homes, land, prices, etc. I get notices when things go under contract, when prices drop, when new listings are added. Seriously, it’s a bit of an addiction. You’d think I could make a career out of it, but then add in the part with all the people and negotiating and back and forth with all the people, and it all becomes just a little too, well, peopley for me. Anyway, I decided pretty immediately after Ash passed away that we needed to move. The boys agreed with me. I started scouring the MLS immediately. I looked at a few homes, seriously considered purchasing one but thought better of it because there were some issues that were absolutely unfixable. We live in a unique area where home prices don’t exactly match the caliber of the home. We’re in a small beach town and you pay the price for living in paradise.

Anywho, obviously, I decided building was the way to go. I found 2 lots that I loved. One of them was already cleared, already had the water line hooked up, backed up to marsh land and was really quite nice. The other is covered, and I do mean covered, in brush, trees, hills and valleys but was also beautiful and backs up to the sound. I asked for advice from what felt like thousands of people (that’s a very large exaggeration, I do not know (or like) thousands of people) but I asked many, because again, decisions and me don’t go hand and hand. I asked professionals, I asked family, I asked friends, I asked acquaintances. They all had their opinions and most of them, including the professionals,  chose the lot where the work was already done. And while I valued those opinions, my heart told me otherwise. I tend to lead with my heart. A lot. Which can be problematic, hence why all the asking opinions from other people. And it was really hard not to have my husband to talk it through with me. Although, if he were here, none of it would be happening, so there is that. Your fault, babe, as usual.

Anyway, two of our closest (and wisest) friends went with me one evening to look at both lots. They fell in love with the first one, the one that was cleared and “easy”. Then we went to the other one. They saw what I saw, they fell even harder as I had fallen even harder. We stood there, we took in the views, the serenity and the peace and I knew I had my answer. They posed the question “what would Ash do?”. And I knew right then. Ash would choose beauty, serenity, peace. He would choose the place that reminds us why we live on this tiny little beach. And then it was easy. The decision came natural. And the thing is, I always knew in my heart which one I wanted, where the boys and I should make our new home, our new life, our fresh start. But second-guessing myself, and my heart, is something I excel at.

Same thing happened with house plans. I asked all those people again. I had narrowed my search down to 2, again, knowing in my heart what I wanted, but seeking out other opinions. Which is not a bad thing. And again, the majority chose the one that I did not. The easier build, the cheaper build. But, again, I went with my heart, chose the more difficult road and can’t wait to see our dreams come to fruition.

I have a hard time trusting myself. I struggle with making decisions. I seek approval from others far too often. But what I continue to learn is that I am capable of making tough decisions, I know my own heart and my own mind, I am strong, I am smart and while I will continue to ask for guidance all the time, deep down, I know that I will make the right decision because it is my decision.

Perks of Being a Widow

I don’t know much about the afterlife. I guess none of us do. What I do know is that these lightsabers (you know the ones from Disney – not going there (literally and figuratively) again) have a mind of their own. They turn on at will. Jack’s will stay on for hours at a time. Glowing in all it’s purpleyness and making its cool lightsaber sounds. Like right now. It’s almost 10 pm. The boys are long asleep. And the lightsaber is just a glowing and whirring away. I like to tell myself that it’s Ash. That he’s showing me he’s here, that he’s with me all the time. Other random things will happen, also. The X-box turns on nearly every time I sit down to write. One night, lying in bed, unable to sleep, my hand (just my left hand, that was resting where Ash used to lay) turned ice cold. I wondered if that was him, holding my hand, reassuring me that everything is going to be ok.

And I know, everything is going to be ok. And everything is, for the most part, ok. Except for when it’s not. (I know, wiser words were never spoken – it’s a wonder Harvard or Yale hasn’t offered me an honorary PhD in life.)

There are some perks to being a widow – I have full control of the remote control (well, after the boys go to bed that is); nobody ever critiques the way dinner is presented anymore; we eat in the living room whenever we feel like it; I can read for hours if I want – no one complains he’s not getting enough attention; there’s less laundry; we spend way less money (that’s also thanks to the whole don’t leave your house thing we have going on right now); I can go to bed whenever I want (my husband was always big on us going to bed at the same time – funny (not like in a funny ha ha way, but funny in an ironic way), he used to be the one that wanted to stay up late while I preferred an earlier bed time and now I’m always up late watching television that doesn’t make me any smarter and living other people’s lives through social media; there’s no guilt for eating the last Twix; I no longer have to watch golf on television, which I guess is also due to circumstance at the moment, but also, I don’t really enjoy watching golf on television so I’ll keep it in the perk column; there’s less mess in the house (not much less because 2 boys and I kinda suck at cleaning) but slightly less; I have 2 bathroom sinks all to myself; Ash was a critical guy by nature, so not constantly being told how I could improve myself isn’t so bad. I know, these are all silly things but I’m a silly girl and you get what you get.

There is one major thing that I can take away from being a widow as being a pretty large, I don’t know that perk is the right word, but it’s something I have always lacked and something I’m gaining more and more of every single day. Courage. I’ve always been a bit of a coward. I mean, my dad was still ordering my food for me in restaurants when I was 18 years old, I made my roommate make any kind of important phone calls for me all through college in exchange for ironing her clothes and then, once I got married, my husband took over ordering my meals for me and all the important phone calls. I’m intimidated by people. I always have been. I’m more on the shy and introverted side and was always happy to stay on the sidelines. But once you become the only adult in your life (that’s not literal, obviously I have other adults in my life, but on the regular, it’s just me and 2 kids), you have to grow some balls, you have to take the field and you have to start making some fucking plays. You have to order your own food. You have to make important phone calls. You have to make huge, life changing decisions, all by yourself. These things have never been my strengths. But now, I don’t have any other choice. And you know what, it feels kind of good. Liberating, in a way. Given the option, clearly I would keep my husband and keep deferring to him but nobody gave me a fucking choice. So I have had to woman up and I won’t say I’m doing great at this whole courage thing (it’s still pretty new), but I’m not doing bad, either.

Some days, I still put off the important phone calls, I avoid answering the phone, I turn in to myself and avoid being brave. But that’s only some days. And there will always be times when I have to take that time, because I am not naturally courageous. But I’m learning and growing, I’m changing, for the better, I think, because I’m relying on me to get us through this life, and if I can’t rely on myself, who can I rely on?