#capturingwidowhood

[shakespearelove]

Day 13: Talents. I have been a lifelong actor. I have been encouraged all my life (thanks Mom) to get into voiceover work. Finally, lost February, I had spoken about doing audiobooks one time too many to Dan. “Why don’t you just fucking do it, then?” “What?” “Just do it. What are you waiting for.” “I don’t have the equipment.” “Fuck the equipment. Build up that stuff later, just do it!” So I auditioned. I was offered my first three books all in one day. It happened to be our anniversary. Dan was so proud of me for all of my hard work, and bragged about me to anyone who would listen. I had been working on a book before Dan got sick. I was planning on editing the finished project while he was at UCLA. I was far too emotionally scattered to work. I just wanted my Dan healthy, I couldn’t think of anything else. Then he died. And this project stayed by the wayside almost completely until last week. Lots of coffee, and some sheer power of will, I finally completed the project last night. I was so proud of myself. I could feel Dan so proud of me, back at the work he loved me doing, and knew I loved doing. And I cried. And cried. And took this picture, and cried some more. It shows strength and fragility, love and loss all at one time. I don’t know how I’m making it through. But I am. Slowly, surely, one day, one step at a time. #widowshelpingwidows #hopeforwidows #capturingwidowhood

[shakespearelove]

When we first started dating, Dan didn’t really like telling people where we met; he would occasionally say “the grocery store” which was an outright lie. Our entire relationship, I tried to think of ways or places we might meet; I couldn’t conceive of a single one. We didn’t share enough activities as interests, and we lived nearly 20mi from each other, and we rarely found ourselves in the other’s neck of the woods. We met on Plenty of Fish, which is a dating site I had used somewhat successfully before; I had had dates from that site, but no one that really stuck. I found it exhausting and too much trouble, and was just about to call it quits for the umpteenth time when I came across Dan. He hadn’t been on POF long, nor was he planning on sticking around long; he had been on a different site, and decided to try something else, and he said most women in there bored him. It was probably 2am on a Monday morning when I came across his picture. I used to have a rule: If I can’t see your face, I’m not interested. But something about him struck me. And he had his dog Harley in the background of the photo. I read his profile (he used the word “tremendous”!), which, among many other desirable qualities, included something about arguing in the middle of a grocery store with his 6 year old niece over who would win in a fight: Anna or Elsa. SOLD TO THE CUTE GUY WITH THE DOUCHEY SHADES AND THE DOG. I messaged him at an ungodly hour. He told me later that he saw the message, opened it up, saw the cute girl who knew what tremendous meant, and wanted to talk to me when he was awake. We messaged for a day or two, and exchanged numbers. We were already joking about “romantic partner applications” before we even had our first date. We spent all week texting through the day, and spending hours talking on the phone every night. Our first date Saturday night quickly became what we affectionately called our first weekend: in 48 hours, we spent more than half of it together. Left picture is First Date. Right is the following day. From that point on, we were nearly inseparable. #widowshelpingwidows #hopeforwidows #capturingwidowhood

[shakespearelove]

This is a really hard one for me; I’m holding back tears thinking about this post. I’m essentially an only child; I have nieces and a nephew, but I’m sure they don’t know I exist. It’s been many years since I’ve been in contact with my brother. Dan was one of 6. He has 10 wonderful nieces & nephews, all of which I considered my own family, even though we weren’t married or engaged. One of them even told me I was her aunt, no matter what. I never wanted kids. But I wanted them with Dan. He wanted three daughters. I told him two daughters and a son would be my preference. He wanted them as close in age as possible; I told him he wasn’t the one that would be perpetually pregnant. We had names picked out as early as a month into our relationship. He was in the hospital (the first time), and we were playing Skip-Bo at midnight. His nurse, who loved us, had to come shut the door because we were having too much fun, and being too loud. We had the girls’ names picked (Danielle Marie & Madison Scout), and it took us until a few months before he died to decide on a boy’s name: James, after his closest brother. Dani, Maddie, and Jimmy. We weren’t sure, between my PCOS & the possibility that he had what his oncologist at UCLA called “an as yet undiscovered syndromes that predisposes you to cancer”. But we had hopes for a big, loving family. He would have been an amazing father, at least as amazing as he was a supportive, kind, caring partner. It breaks my heart that we’ll never have that family; not in this life, anyway. So here are some pictures of us, both as kids roughly age 6, and roundabout 18 years old. We would have had the fuckin’ cutest little parasites. #capturingwidowhood #hopeforwidows #widowshelpingwidows

[shakespearelove]

Day 14: It would be absolutely impossible to include my entire circle. I’ve had people I haven’t spoken to in years come out of the woodwork for me, and I couldn’t be more appreciative. These two women, however... I could literally wake them at the asscrack of dawn, in tears, and they would listen and love without regard. Jennifer is a long time tumblr friend. When we met, it was fangirling and fanfiction. She has become an irreplaceable part of my life, and I’m so glad we can share a friendship. Megan is a more complex story: Dan was a mentor and huge supporter of Imerman Angels One-on-One Cancer Support. He had encouraged me weekly from the moment he was diagnosed with Stage 4 renal cancer to reach out and ask for a mentor. I blew it off for 7 months. Then, when we finally saw UCLA for his treatment, and decided I needed more help. The journey to Megan wasn’t long, but certainly fraught with the WRONG match. Once Megan and I spoke, though, it was like magic happened. Sometimes I think we’re the same person. #widowshelpingwidows #hopeforwidows #capturingwidowhood Throughout Dan’s medical struggles, he would constantly ask me if I had updated Megan on the situation, even if it was 2am. Now, with him gone, I’m positive he knew what he was doing every step of the way—in case I ever lost him, I had someone he knew would hold me and help me through this nightmare. And she has. She’s been as close as she can be to my situation without having lost her dear husband, so having someone who gets it is wildly helpful. These two women. These two women are everything. I can’t begin to express my gratitude and love for these sisters.

[shakespearelove]

Dan and I didn’t have many opportunities to give physical gifts, but it doesn’t really matter. The gift he gave me that I will treasure forever is him. His love. He told me he kept trying not to kiss me on our first date; he wanted to hold something back. Then he did, and it was all over for us. I have a text from him a week into our relationship that told me “I hope you’re ready for this, because you make it so fucking easy to fall for you!” I reminded him what I said, after he kissed me in the rain between dinner and our movie: “Nothing will scare me away. I’m in it to win it!” Once we exchanged “I love you’s” by the following weekend, all bets were off. He was mine. I was his. And I don’t feel like that will ever change. He taught me to love in he most extraordinary way. He allowed me to love him completely, unabashed, no holds barred. He loved me with an intensity and ferocity I didn’t know I deserved. The love we shared of the type of love stories are written about. No material gift could compare to his love, and hose big, beautiful smiles. I can see his love in every picture we took, and will cherish them forever. #capturingwidowhood #hopeforwidows #widowshelpingwidows

[shakespearelove]

Day 31: Holidays Technically the last day of this challenge, though I may add one to round it out. Dan & I were lucky to spend the 17 months together that we did. We enjoyed exactly one year of holidays together, with every major holiday by each other’s side, starting with Easter, not long after we met. We have already met one another’s parents, though this was my time to meet the majority of the rest of his, save for a few (17 out of 23 ain’t bad). We enjoyed Christmas Eve with my parents, where Dan cooked a delicious prime rib dinner (with the help of his lovely assistant, of course). Christmas this year was with his family (with the plan to switch days this year—Eve with them, day with mine). New Years yields my first ever NYE not in Orange County, and we spent a fabulous evening (despite my petty ass and his stubborn ass fighting once or twice) with the Oskins. This holiday yields the only picture I have of him kissing me. Little did we know that the New Year we so very much looked forward to sharing together would not give us the happy events we expected, but tragic ones we hoped would be years and years off. All in all, I feel (and I’m sure he would agree), our favorite holidays were the ones we spent together, loving, caring for & about, and supporting one another. I couldn’t possibly ask for anything more than that. #hopeforwidows #widowshelpingwidows #capturingwidowhood #mysoulmate #mylove

[shakespearelove]

Day 29: Widow Brain. So, this is quite a phenomenon. I was getting reeeeeeeeally good when I was with Dan, at not forgetting shit. Using the 7 Ps (“proper prior preparation prevents piss poor performance”) thankfully seemed to help. Since Dan’s death, I forget things all the damn time. In the middle of sentences, I’ll completely forget what the hell I was saying. Even reading out loud is tough — I mix up words and mispronunciation simple things all the time. It’s like being consistently foggy, like being bleary eyed after a not great night of sleep, it’s bad. It’s certainly not the worst part of this widowy bullshit, but it’s quite annoying (and slightly anxiety inducing), but you figure it out. Here’s a handful of hippie crystals, I kid you not, I have been carrying around in my pockets for like, two weeks. Quartz is supposed to be good for purification, and clarifying thoughts (I picked this one up at the National Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh). Amethyst, for healing a broken heart. Even if it doesn’t help, placebos work, and it makes me feel a little less scattered, a little less lonely, without him. #hopeforwidows #widowshelpingwidows #capturingwidowhood

[shakespearelove]

Day 28: Your sacred space. This one is super easy: my car. It’s the only place where I can cry freely without worrying if I’m disturbing someone. I can tell, I can scream, I can laugh. I talk to Dan throughout my day, and often in my car. It’s the only place that’s ONLY mine, and sometimes, if I try really hard, I can still see him sitting there beside me. I have a little alcovey thing on my dashboard, and I’ve decided to leave trinkets there. The little bushel of dried flowers comes from Dan’s mom’s garden: his second youngest nephew picked it for me a few weeks ago. The dark strip on the right is a petal off of one of the lilies I left at his grave the same day. The shell was one of two I picked up that afternoon, wandering Dog Beach with Chaucer. I left one on Dan’s grave, and kept the other for myself. Those are my little reminders make it a little extra sacred. #capturingwidowhood #widowshelpingwidows #hopeforwidows

[shakespearelove]

Day 17: Books Sadly, there was no Day 16 yesterday, though I may add a Day 32 depending on what the rest of the month holds. Option B was gifted to me by my PCP. He had met Dan before, and really enjoyed him (no surprise there), and he was shocked when he heard about his death. When I came to see him about how I was feeling, I was a wreck. I was crying all the time, I was stuck in grief comas of 10-15 hours in bed every day, I was barely eating, and I could hardly get a word out without breaking down. I was having, and continue to, some days, have thoughts of “I would be happier if I was with him.” “I’ll never feel joy again.” “I just wish this all went away and I could be wherever Dan is.” Most would call those suicidal, and you know, I would agree. I was in a scary place, and sometimes still find myself there. Not long after hearing that I was dwelling on such darkness, I had another appointment, and the two most important things he said were “We need to get you eating, and you need to find resilience.” So he gave me this book. It has been immensely helpful, though not always. Most notably, it showed me I wasn’t alone. I finally found something that resonated with me, and I felt comfort in this book being written by someone who understood my pain, and struggle, while still acknowledging her privilege as a wealthy white woman (a refreshing insight). It’s a powerful book, recommended to all. Of course, no post on books is complete without mention of the Harry Potter series. I’ve been reading it to Dan ever since he was in the hospital, and after a sabbatical from it when I was too grief stricken to think, I resumed it. We’ve just met the Triwizard Champions. I’ve decided after this series, I’ll continue my nightly readings aloud. They help me feel connected to him, and comfort me when my loneliness feels overwhelming. #widowshelpingwidows #hopeforwidows #capturingwidowhood