The summer after Mr. Virgo died, I began what I referred to as “The Grand Adventure”. Not only was I going out in the world to do and see things I had never experienced before, I was also doing it all alone…for the first time in my life. I had taken respite weekends before, but nothing like I was about to face. It was daunting and exhilarating, melancholic and joyful. It was a time of many violent shifts in my psyche, my mood, my thinking. I wasn’t at all sure I could DO it…period. Let alone, do it alone. But I knew I needed to. I needed to take the first step down the path or I would never make it through the valley of death that is grief.
After buying Little TOW-Wanda and getting some obligations taken care of, I took off for the hills. I circled Colorado twice in three months and then took my oldest daughter and her family to see Mt. Rushmore. Those months alone on the road were exactly what I needed. I connected with my broken heart. I allowed myself the gut-wrenching sobs that come with that kind of pain. I explored places inside me that had never seen the light of day. It was cathartic and exhausting and allowed me to crawl out of the wreckage…at least the initial crash.
Grief is a crazy thing. It transforms you in ways you never, ever considered. And, as uncomfortable and painful as it is, it’s an easy place to stay. It’s much easier to pull the covers over your head and to be excused by society with “Oh, poor dear…she lost her husband, don’t you know.” Complicated grief is an actual diagnosis. Every grief is different. Each person walks his/her own path. As incredible as it may seem, you can get too comfortable in your pain when moving through it seems insurmountable. After all, who looks at a fire and says “Oh, yeah! I can walk through that!” Especially when you can’t see the other side. The thing is, there are pockets of sweetness along the path that you’ll never know are there until you stumble upon them in the flames. And these sweet spots are SO worth the journey.
The Grand Adventure, Part 2 saw me selling my house, drastically downsizing, and reincarnating my little 16′ camper into TOW-Wanda Grande, the behemoth “Porta Party” that I call home. My first stop has been WV, beloved home of my youth. And, if you’ve been following along this whole time, you’ll know the initial intent was to care for an elderly aunt on the family farm but that ended at Christmas. It’s very sad that the relationship has been permanently damaged, I’m afraid. But the sweet spots inside that painful scenario brought me to the river, and to further opportunities for healing and growth. I will be forever grateful to my friends for allowing me to live on their property. It’s been a scene of transformation and I am peaceful.
This week will see the beginning of Part 3 as The Grand Adventure continues. A friend and I head out Tuesday for parts south. I am thrilled to see what is around the next bend and will bring you along with pictures and commentary. I wonder what delicious, juicy, excitement life will bring me next?
❤
“Thus they set out from the mount of the LORD three days’ journey, with the ark of the covenant of the LORD journeying in front of them for the three days, to seek out a resting place for them. The cloud of the LORD was over them by day when they set out from the camp.”
Numbers 10:33-34