Day 1: The Farm to Columbia, SC Day 2: Columbia, SC to St. Augustine

Both days were sunny and breezy yet cool. Even as I crossed into Florida and stopped at the Welcome Center for some brochures and a taste of fresh-squeezed orange juice, the temp had just barely crossed 60. Still 60 and sunny beats 29 and snowing any day of the week.

Ok, kids…it’s that time of year when mama’s got itchy feet. The grey clouds of January in the Mid-Ohio Valley has turned me into a pale and grumpy girl and I have to head for some sun, sand, and surf! Yesss….you guessed it…it’s time for a ROAD TRIP! And you’re coming with me so turn on the sunlamp, play some Beach Boys, and slather on some coconut scented lotion, put on your sunglasses, get out the road map, and lets have some fun!

I used to think how horrific it was…how incredibly sad it was that Mr. Virgo died just three weeks shy of our 6th wedding anniversary. I mean…essentially, we were still newlyweds. We didn’t get to have those big anniversaries…10th, 20th. I was 53 when we married. Mr. Virgo Was 55 and smoked. The chances of us having a 30th wedding anniversary was slim to none. But I thought we’d have more time. We all think we’ll have more time.

There is nothing beautiful about becoming a widow. It’s scary and sad and extraordinarily painful. For the longest time, I was certain there would never be joy again, even as I traveled in TOW-Wanda. I sat in a chair looking at a closed door. On the other side of that door was the rest of my life. Christina Rasmussen calls this the Waiting Room. We touched on that last week. I sat there for the longest time…in fear. I wasn’t afraid to move forward because I was alone. I wasn’t. God led my every breath and directed my every step as I navigated this grief journey. As a matter of fact, I can look back and see where every stumble was because I took my focus off of Him and tried to drive the bus on my own. I have long since decided I’m much better off when I ride shotgun with Jesus at the wheel. But, I was still afraid of moving forward.

I woke up yesterday to blue skies!!! I knew right away this was a day to get outside. I simply cannot waste a sunny sky by staying indoors! I needed the break anyway. I dive too deep when I work with my early writings. They trigger anxiety, bad dreams, and just general yucky feelings so I have to take a break on occasion. What a glorious day to do it, too. These sunny days are gifts…rare gifts in a West Virginia January.

As I plug along and copy the content from my blog here on Facebook and move it to my new website, I try to work from both ends of the spectrum. I work on new stuff for a while, then I work on the older, early writings. I have to do it this way as the early stuff is so painful…most of the time. Right now, I’m in the midst of the first spring/summer after losing Mr. Virgo. I have purchased Little TOW-Wanda and I’ve been out on The Grand Adventure for quite some time. I am enjoying looking back at the pictures of all the beautiful places I visited. So much of that year is a blur to me. The brain fog of grief had me pretty firmly in its grip for the first year and seeing these photos, and reading the meager writing I was able to produce fills in some blanks and makes me long for getting out on the open road again…wind in my hair, tiara twinkling in the sunlight.

I hadn’t seen Anna since high school. She had never been to a reunion and frankly, she was nervous. What if no one remembered her? What if she didn’t remember anyone else? What if the dress she picked out is too dressy? What if it’s not dressy enough? Or too hot/cold/itchy….you get the idea. Anna was scared. I don’t blame her. I’ve been there…we all have. She changed her clothes three times the first night. Finally I said…“Please…sit. You’re beautiful. Relax.” She gave me a smile and seemed to settle back and get into the groove of the evening.

I’ve been reading posts lately about feeling stuck. I remember in my own grief journey, especially the first year or two, there were so many times I felt complete frozen. It was hard to get up and get out of bed, let alone do anything meaningful. There were long stretches where I wondered if I would actually make it. I was filled with despair. It’s always worse in winter. As I am sitting here, the rain is pounding on the tin roof of this farmhouse. At least it isn’t snow. Long dark nights and short grey days have a way of making even the sunniest disposition go sour.

I have way too much experience with ignoring the elephant in the room….specifically in my second marriage that went on for probably at least seven years longer than it should have. We ignored the elephant. We put a doily on it and called it a table. I dusted it occasionally, failing to see how it was truly crowding me out of the room. Ignoring the elephant doesn’t just occur during times of marital strife. It can happen when we are enabling a substance abuser. Or when we ignore cues from our bodies until it’s too late. But, probably one of the biggest, and most important elephants to talk about is death.

I have never been a good sleeper. It only got worse after Mr. Virgo died. I stayed up till all hours, avoiding going to bed because I had to go to bed alone. I’d play computer games all night and fall…exhausted…into bed near dawn only to awaken a couple of hours later. Good sleep hygiene didn’t come for quite some time. But, even when the acute stages of grief had passed, I just couldn’t sleep very well.