I join my friend Lisa every Monday night, live on social media, to talk about widowhood. When she first pitched me the idea I was completely reluctant. I didn’t want to be on camera. I didn’t want anyone knowing my flaws. Seeing my flaws. Hearing my sad tale. As a writer it seemed okay to put “it” on paper for people to read. Actually talking out loud on livestream? Absolutely not. I’m a terrible talker. I ALWAYS say the wrong thing. I’m convinced I have a miswired brain. I know in my mind what I’m trying to say and it invariably comes out construed. Writing? Much better platform for someone like me. But, for whatever reason, I texted Lisa back and said, “I’m in”.
The very first broadcast I belted back two shots of Titos in my dead husbands 35 year old KA shot glass before signing on. I am woman hear me roar! Well, not really. The entirety of my 27 year marriage I had never done a single shot. I figured what better time to start my new boldness with, well, boldness! I don’t remember much except that I survived it and I said “yes” to the following weeks Instalive. With each week that passed, I began to realize I was verbally exposing parts of myself that I hadn’t talked about with anyone except my grief counselor. I said a lot of things wrong. I said a lot of things to evade real issues and instead provoke laughter. And still, I kept returning, and so did our tiny little following of women.
We have talked boldly about missing having sex yet not possibly imagining being with anyone else. No, wait, maybe we are ready to date?! Wait, just kidding, on second thought? Maybe not yet. The roles our dogs have played in our healing. Our kids. Our faith. Our communities. All of our dialoging and processing is the exact kind of nonsensical rambling that would have sent me over the freaking edge 5 years ago. And yet? LOL here I am. I’ve held in all this crap for all this time that I thought was inconsequential. Evidently it matters to a number of other women too who just won’t say it out loud either. They keep tuning in and contacting us. It has been a joy making connections.
I had no idea who I was after my husband died. My entire identity was stripped away. Couple that with moving to a metropolitian area? I went from somebody to nobody pretty dag gone quickly. It’s humbling. But I had to make a decision to be me or to hang on to being Mrs. Robin Wooten for the rest of my life. I chose me. I still don’t have the majority of it all figured out. But I do know this: I’ve believed God would show me. I’ve believed God would place me where I needed to be. I’ve believed God at his word of never leaving me nor forsaking me. The day after Robin died it was chaos in our home. I was in the bathroom trying to just get away from all the people. I sat down on the bench in the shower and tried not to cry. That’s when I heard the Lord say, “trust me”.
Terrible things happen. Life has to go on or it doesn’t. You can Trust or not trust. Once you’ve decided to Trust him? I’m finding life is a whole lot more fun just saying, “I’m in”.
“Be satisfied with what you have, for He Himself has said, I will never leave you or forsake you”~Hebrews 13:5