A Widow Blogger

When I began to blog I had no idea where this adventure would lead me.  As 2018 dawned I wrote that I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a high diving board, afraid to make the leap but knowing I had to.  A person can’t hesitate for long when standing on the edge of the high dive, a line begins to form behind them, other people are anxious to take the plunge. 

Little did I know when I stepped off that board and began my descent I’d still be falling in August. I never saw myself becoming widow blogger.  I don’t want to be a widow blogger – but that’s what I am.

I used to think the dark side of my life should remain in the dark – it was safer there, quieter, hidden – who would want to read about that stuff anyway? The dark writing felt like I was talking out of school, telling secrets – but I don’t feel like that anymore.  

These days I’m not picky about what I write, I just go for it. The muse seems to have the same ups and downs as I do and lately I’ve been sharing all the moods. I’ve been putting myself out there in a fashion I never have before. 

I used to write my dark stuff in secret.  I used to write about our problems because we were never any good at talking about them. I never showed him any of that writing because I wasn’t good at confrontation. – we worked better as a couple by skirting issues. We had a well practiced dance we did when things got messy, we had been doing it for years.  I think that’s how we managed to stay together for so long, we didn’t get into each other’s business. 

I am still tempted to keep the messy stuff hidden and just write the happy – but that’s like trying to color a picture with half a box of crayons. I don’t have to skirt issues anymore, I can write the truth and share it. I lived with and loved a man for forty years – that’s a big deal. We laughed and fought and hung on to each other through a lot of shit. And now I’m his widow – his widow. I am a widow blogger and I don’t feel like keeping secrets anymore.