As I've wrestled with how to bring this website back to the here and how, I've also wrestled with another component I felt needed to be added - one that can stand alone on its own. One that fits well within the parameters of Caring with Marsha.
This website will always include information to help us understand and better support the widows, and widowers, in our lives. It will also include information for anyone suffering profound grief, a grief none of us knew existed until we found ourselves in the absolute thick of it.
As a caregiver to my husband, my mom, and for four years my dad as they each had been hospitalized any number of times before coming home on hospice, as well as becoming my sister with special needs full-time caregiver, I know what it is like to get lost in caregiving others. To not be able to find ways to take care of me beyond survival modes.
During those times I searched for ways to better care for myself. All I could find were variations of "Top Ten Ways of Self-Care" sort of posts. They contained things like: have a quiet cup of coffee to start your day; take a long, hot candlelit bath, etc. These are lovely ideas for someone who needs a break after putting a little one down for the night. They don't even begin to touch what someone in the deepest trenches needs!
As I'm catching up from a three-and-a-half-year hip injury that wouldn't allow me to sit for long without it screaming in pain, I'll be continuing to gather and organize information on all facets that will fit here, so it may be a bit before regular posts become, well, regular!
A friend challenged me to get away for a night or two at a cabin taking my junk journal supplies with me. I think I will instead take my laptop, some notebooks, my phone full of notes, and anything else that will help me get everything under control and organized, then get to writing!
Please be patient as I work my way back, and know I AM COMING BACK with loads of genuinely helpful info for widows/widowers/grievers and for "advanced" self-care tips!
Sixteen years ago I was just weeks into widowhood. Such a massive shift between then and now!
Back then I was in the utter depths of grief and trying to find a way to keep us functioning and moving forward to whatever was ahead of us without our husband and dad.
It was the Christmas season, obviously. It didn't dawn on me my husband’s paycheck would be less because of his death date. Thankfully, his co-workers made sure we would have a good Christmas.
I remember the most epic, all-consuming, terrifying meltdown of all time. I don't remember what might have triggered it, but remember how it felt. The boys came running - terrified. They were so young still. I could barely catch a breath between sobs much less let them know I was okay, that I just had to get the grief out. Both boys held me while I cried and cried, and cried.
Note to those who are afraid tears will never stop if they let them flow: There will be a break. That initial cry IS limited. It won't last forever. And, somehow, you will get enough air not to suffocate no matter how fast and hard the sobs come. You will be utterly exhausted. You should definitely rehydrate! And, you should give yourself grace in all of it.
Gosh! Everything was so hard then.
Grief and peace slowly, almost imperceptibly, intertwine.
Here I am sixteen years later.
I'm glad I survived the . worst . grief, a grief not even imaginable. I can function more normally again - cancer treatment repercussions notwithstanding.
All of the thoughts and words on grief and loss written then and since are finally coming together on the website, though it is foundational until after the holidays. In time there will be free resources, videos, loads of blog posts, and maybe even a course or two. And eventually that book!
And, in spite of another hard year with too much death, we are having our first full blown Christmas since Mom died five years ago!!!
My husband's stocking is still hanging among the rest. It always will be.
Marsha
