Moving Forward

I think it's time. Perhaps I'm narcissistic. Perhaps, just curious. More likely, I suffer from narcissistic curiosity. Regardless, I googled myself. To be fair, I googled you as well, but most of you don't have a publicly readable online journal of some of the toughest times in your life. When I googled myself last month (after googling someone I'd met through an online dating service), I was shocked to see that this blog topped the list of results. Immediately, I felt naked and hid it from your view. It's not that I'm ashamed of what I've written but I was terrified that this blog might be the first and consequently only impression that someone could have of me. It's not exactly the whole package, and the fuller my life gets, the smaller no-sleep tricia seems.



Early in my grief, I came across a visual representation of the grieving process. It displayed a glass jar containing a large blue ball. The ball, labeled "grief" barely fit inside the jar which was labeled "life". It perfectly illustrated how I felt at the time. Everything revolved around my loss of Dalton. I was so full of sadness and loss that there was barely room for anything else. The second picture was surprising, though. It, too displayed a glass jar containing a large blue ball labeled "grief" In fact, it was exactly the same ball, identical in size and shape to the first one. What had changed, however, was the size of the jar. In the second picture, the jar was much larger. Consequently, "grief", even though it was the same size occupied a much smaller space in "life", and there was room for other things. That is how I now feel.



My experience with cancer and the loss of my husband, best friend, and father of my child has forever changed me. It will always be a part of my life in the same way that every single thing we ultimately affects who we are. However, it is no longer the defining characteristic of my life. I am many things of which widow is only one. I am mother, friend, activist, advocate, Christian, optimist, thrill-seeker, dinner party host, writer, soon-to-be triathlete, business owner, realtor, connoisseur of indie music and modern architecture. I am playful, trusting, unflappable, inquisitive, peaceful, passionate, compassionate, and generous. I struggle with many things which will remain unwritten.



Consequently, I'm really struggling with what to do with this blog. I keep thinking that it's time to stop writing in this space, but even when I type that, it feels wrong. I think, instead that I will change the names to protect the innocent and guilty alike. Hopefully, that will alleviate the google problem while still allowing those of you who care to keep tabs on me a way to do so. With that being said, I will soon post an update on both me and the boy who will subsequently be called PB (short for Pooh Bear, the nickname given to him by his father who will subsequently be called DJH2).