#widowshelpingwidows

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

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

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

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.

#widowshelpingwidows #fundraising #trust #support #bewatrust https://www.instagram.com/p/CMSHl-6AV3I/?igshid=1wavm2g7fmtut

Nothing funny about being a widow surely? Unless of course you know different. #widowsofinstagram #widowlife #widowhood #widowshelpingwidows https://www.instagram.com/p/CGh0DOPgUU2/?igshid=1bpzch5k6tbj6

Ooookay people...a cover idea for the next in The Funny Thing About Being a Widow?' series about my experiences on dating sites. #WritingCommunity #WritersLife #widowlife #widowsofinstagram #widowshelpingwidows https://www.instagram.com/p/CFt2TTWA3pk/?igshid=1dy8il8nz3drc