My widow fuck it list

Well I made a list and I did it. 
1.visit Jerry ✔

2. Eat something Jerry would. We went to bjs brewhouse where I ate fried cheese and had a beer :)

3.Get a tattoo✔✔ thank you to Jim Gibbonsat anchors up amazing work as always 

4.Buy myself something nice- I got my nails done in matte black of course 
5. Allow myself time to cry- still working on this one 

Today

Today is October 13th. I hate this day. I hate this day more than any other day in the entire year. Today is the day he left. I know he didnt choose to leave, he was killed, he had no control over that but today is the day it stopped being RaiAnne and Jerry and just started being RaiAnne. Today is the day I had to learn how to begin to live without you. I miss you Jerry like no one can understand. I wonder to myself all the time (despite what people say) If you knew how much I loved you, I wonder that when you died did you know in your heart that I loved you unconditionally. That despite all my fuck ups that I loved you more than anything on this earth. I hope you knew. I miss you more than words can express. I dont just mourn your death, I mourn the life we never got to have. I mourn the children we dreamt of raising, the anniversaries and birthdays we would never get to spend together. Thats why I hate today. But I am going to do my best to hold it together. I saw another widow a few weeks ago on facebook have a widow bucket list. It was her wedding anniversary and she wanted to do somethings. One was eat a particular pie, drink   copious amounts of tequila, etc. So I am creating my own. It is my widow fuck it list:
1. Visit Jer Check
2.Eat something Jer would want to eat
3.Get a tattoo
4.Buy myself something nice
5. Allow myself time to cry
So heres to my widow fuck it list. I miss you Jerry and love you more than words. Until we meet again babe. Thank you for always watching over me.

 Saw a rainbow after I left the cemetery

 Our first Halloween together. Our favorite holiday 

Beginnings

So I posted my beginning story to the Survivors of Hero's facebook page that is the soft version of the book idea I talked about at Holbrook farms. I felt it was important to share my story because then it could make others feel more comfortable in doing so as well. But for those not on that page I wanted to give you the opportunity to read it if you wanted to so here it is, enjoy :)

 So here is my intro-First I would like to welcome you all to this crazy adventure and humoring me along the way. I sincerely look forward to reading your stories, hearing your music, and seeing your art. Whatever your muse maybe I look forward to seeing them. This project was started because someone took my wine fueled fantasy and told me it was a great idea. But I guess I should start from the beginning.

                Married at 19, to the love of my life Jeremiah “Jerry” Izquierdo Sancho,all we ever heard was “are you sure?” “This is a commitment, marriage is no joke” blah blah blah. We knew (despite our many ups and downs) at 16 we would be married as soon as we could. I was never perfect, who is? But in his eyes I was everything. He would always tell me how much his life made sense when I was in it. I remember the time we broke up, I broke his heart and was being selfish (something to this day I cannot forgive myself for it), he was sitting in the back seat of my car when “wait for you” by Elliott Yamin came on. I glanced in the rear view mirror, we made eye contact and he started mouthing the words. That image alone will never leave my mind. Anyway after realizing the stupid ass mistake I made I asked him to take me back, which he was waiting for. With a smile on his face he said only if you marry me, obviously I did, almost 2 months later.

                I packed my belongings and moved back to New York to be with him at his first duty station and our first apartment. From June until April it was just me and him. Sometimes just me because he would have to leave for a month for training, but he made sure to call me as much as he could and remind me of how beautiful I was in his eyes. Sometimes he would leave me notes throughout the house. They’d be in the fridge, bathroom, bedroom, etc. They were my favorite part of my day when I would find them. But the time came when we got the orders. Those damn deployment orders. I was 20 years old signing my husbands funeral arrangements because “You have better hand writing and if I die I want them to be able to read what I want” His favorite excuse, I always did things better than him he would say mostly so he could play xbox which I never minded. I remember calling my friends and telling them how scared I was “what if he doesn’t love me when he comes home” “what if he dies” “I don’t want to be a 21 year old widow” Well you can pretty much gather what happened next.

                October 15^th I found out my husband was killed two days prior. I was numb. I would cry uncontrollably for a while and then stop. He was dead two days before any of us knew. Two days. I can still see the faces of my dad, my mother in law, my brother, sister, and our friends who just happened to be at my parent’s house that day. Their faces burned inside of my head. Their faces that sometimes come back to me in flashbacks or nightmares. And even when I could physically feel my heart breaking I was trying to comfort them. Go figure. I was told by a very young chaplain from the army, who was probably younger than me, that my husband died from wounds sustained from an IED attack and that he was the only casualty. I was always grateful that he was the only one as messed up as that sounds. I didn’t want anyone else to suffer the way I was. I wouldn’t wish that kind of pain onto anyone. I got drunk a lot after that. I did a lot of things after that to try and numb my pain. There was a time when just seeing pictures of him would cause this burning sensation in my chest and I would know it was time for pills or whiskey to ease my pain and help me sleep. I tried to be strong for my family. I would only cry at night In my bed, quietly as to not wake anyone. I would sometimes go for walks at 3 in the morning just so I could cry. I did not want to kill myself but I wasn’t trying to protect myself from harm either so take it for what you will. Eventually my dad sat me down and told me the drinking needed to stop, I listened, I knew Jerry would have been so disappointed to see me like that, so I did my best to best to do better. I started going to therapy (hit and miss), started working again, and started writing. It wasn’t two or three years after his death that I found TAPS and my life changed. From there came American widows project and then most recently Holbrook Farms. At Holbrook is where I was brave enough (after having some liquid courage) to tell a complete stranger about my blog, about my crazy idea to make a series of stories for widows by widows and maybe one day reach people who don’t know our stories. To show them that our pain is still here but were using it to try and change things. That even though I have had something incredibly devastating happen to me I can still smile, still have a good time and most importantly still laugh. Jerry would be proud of that, because even though I hate my laugh he always thought it was my best quality. This person who knew nothing more about me than that my husband was killed, had the faith in me to say “Lets do this”. So ladies and gents here we are. Writing is how I survive, I like to write about my sad times, my crazy widow moments and of course the times that make me laugh because those to me are most important. 

Couldn't Make It Up If I Tried

 So last night I decided that I was going to go out with some co-workers to the bars in our very small downtown area for some drinks. Nothing fancy but its been a stressful few months and with the looming threat of Jerry's "angelversary" coming up I decided it would probably be nice to go out with the ladies.
 The night started off wonderfully. We all met up with each other at the main pub in town (and because I dont want to use anyones name just incase they dont want to be known in all of this I will just use letters) So we meet up and M's boyfriend meets some dude in the bathroom and they become besties so were all talking laughing and drinking. Then we decided to visit another friends friend at a bar, had more drinks bullshited, the usual and then we ended up at Meg o Mallys for some food. Our waitress was wonderful and our bartender was a dick. After that we walked around, visited some other bars in the area and then decided to make sure another coworker D got to her car and trying to keep her from making poor decisions. Well heres where the story gets interesting. So on our way were walking and this dude randomly pulls me aside and starts talking to me. Now it is very obvious that he has had some drinks and that he is very emotional. So being concerned I asked "you OK?" to which he responds "NO I AM NOT OK THEY ARE ARRESTING MY FRIEND BECAUSE HE THREW HIS DRINK OUT A SECOND TOO LATE AND BECAUSE HE HAS DARKER SKIN" *shook* The Cops are walking back over to him and were trying to calm this dude down so he himself isnt arrested. A couple of our friends bailed when they saw the cops and well I didnt feel right leaving this drunk dude sobbing on the sidewalk. So me,A and J sympathize with the guy, all of us have/are in bi-racial relationships and have had first hand experience with racism (whether that be the case here or not) and because he was drunk and emotional decided to try and make sure this drunk dude didnt A.Get arrested with his friend and B. Made it home ok. So we eventually calm him down some (not a lot-He was still yelling in the streets about how his dad is rich and how hes gonna get a lawyer to fuck them in the ass*side note really hard not to laugh when someone is yelling this...go a head and try*) and we start walking him home because he only lived a few blocks away. Now A is not someone to be fucked with. Shes not very tall but what she lacks in height she makes up for in strength, like legit when shes mad shes terrifying and J is 6'1'' and also intimidating AF, although as soon as you hear her talk she is the sweetest person in existence-still wouldnt fuck with her tho, So walking this very drunk dude home wasn't frightening to me at all and we wanted to make sure he made it ok. So were walking and he is telling us all about his "dark skin" friend (his words not mine). Talking about how they picked him because of his darker skin, how he just got a job in DC and now the police are trying to ruin his life with this charge,etc. And we are deeply sympathizing with him, no one wants their life to be ruined and this is his friend he cares deeply about. We continue to walk and listen to drunk dude vent about racism and because hes Jewish he cant really relate but he has friends who suffer and the world is evil, etc. All the mean while I am also keeping an eye on my surroundings and making sure I myself will not be murdered. Well then I notice a car pass by and then stop and make a U-turn. So Im thinking A. Were about to get kidnapped or B. its someone who knows this drunk dude. I see a guy lean his head out and call drunk dude whos name is Bobby apparently. Bobby realizes that his friend is not in fact arrested, but has been released and is sitting in front of him and loses his god damn mind. He drops to the ground crying thanking God his friend is ok,etc. And it would have been a really sweet moment for all except we noticed something about his "dark skin" friend. He wasnt dark skinned at all. I am looking at A and J while were simultaneously trying to load Bobby into the car, and I am saying "you see this white dude" with my eyes. Bobby and his friend are talking about Bobby says "I am so happy they released you because they're racists and only arrested you because you have darker skin" to which his friend responds "I am greek and Italian, Thanks Ladies have a good night" and they drive away. At this point all I could do was laugh my ass off. Now when you yourself are very white and saying your friend is dark skin I am expecting to see someone who is at least a smidge darker than you. We were all thinking "Ok this guy is african american or hispanic" Nope dude was as white as me. So our catchphrase for the remainder of the night was "fuck you Bobby" of "Fuckin Bobby". That ladies and Gents is some Downtown Melbourne Night on the town drinking stories I could not make up even if I tried.

Holbrook Farms Retreat

 Let me start off by saying, "Holbrook Farms was one of the best retreats I have ever been to" (que Kanye stealing mic from Tswizzle impression). :p But in all seriousness they set the bar high. The owners of the 8000 somewhat square foot cabin is owned by two insanely nice people...like if they asked me to jump I'd ask how high kind of nice people and you know my ass doesn't jump for anyone, that should be evident by my stunning curvy figure lol. But no seriously these people bought a cabin with the intention of making it their forever home decided "Nah we have a different idea" took that home and decided to fly 10 military widows out every summer for free and let us all stay there. They fed us, planned awesome outdoor activities and some healing activities as well. I don't think I can say it any louder THESE TWO PEOPLE BROUGHT THIS TO US FREE OF CHARGE TO JUST GIVE BACK. It is different when it is an  organization working and whatever but this started off with two people who just wanted to give back. Like I'm sorry are you two angels? Is this real? Yes it was and yes they are.
 Let me start from the beginning. I was introduced to this retreat by a fellow widow who much like myself loves relaxing and doing outdoorsy type stuff, I like water things more than her but since she knows me she was like you need to go. I had been a little hesitant because P is only 4 months old and I was like "Damn am I a bad mom?" Then my lovely boyfriend reminded me that I am a total lunatic if I don't get my much needed widow time in. The retreats are designed to connect us and give us a break and a calm place to talk about our journeys without someone giving us the "OMG you're a widow stare" (Widow stare is a much more uncomfortable 'deer in the headlights' look). So i signed up and hoped that I would be accepted. Eventually I got the email I was going, got super excited and then found out I would not know anyone on this retreat. I like to call this my "oh shit" moment. So I usually know at least 1 other widow seeing as the more retreats you go to the more you see people again. Well not this time. *Que social anxiety. So I tried to ignore it and thought to myself well if they don't like you at least you can go buy wine, Wine loves you. ( I promise I am not an alcoholic...just seems that way..she says drinking her Mikes Hard lemonade). As the day grew closer the more anxious I got. "What if they're just flying you up there to kidnap you?" "What the hell is there to do in Minnesota?" "What if it turns into a horror movie setting....you'll be in the middle of nowhere on a lake...girl you have watched enough horror movies to know what happens next"...yea that is kind of how my brain works. But I ignored it and packed my bags.
 Day 1 (after almost missing both flights and having 1 panic attack) we arrive in an airport no bigger than a Walgreen's...I'm not kidding...Ok maybe two Walgreen's put together. As I am getting off the plane I hear "Oh you have a TAPS bag, you must be the other widow" Correct you are, I think as I meet the eyes of the ladies sitting across from me. My first thought "sweet I'm not the only one with tattoos". We do the usual meet and greets and head downtown to do some shopping and get some food while we wait for the others to arrive. We end up in downtown Fargo and let me say downtown Fargo has more bars in a small area then I've ever seen and I've been to Miami. So I taste the local apple cider ale, pretty yummy, then we move on to explore. About 100 feet down the street we run into a overly excited lady who stops us in our tracks (She was a meter maid...meter officer..meter whatever they're called now) and asks us if we know where we're going. We say just exploring and she runs and gets us a map. Sweet lady, weird experience since she practically yelled at us to stop but overall not bad. She gave us a brief history lesson and allowed us to move on our merry way. Fun fact the only places to get cool souvenirs in Fargo is A) the airport and B) Wal-mart. That fun fact is free ladies and gents, the next one will cost you.  So after we pick up the other ladies we headed back to the Cabin and I about fainted, like I said its like 8000 square feet of amazingness. They gave us tour, we did our introductions and they gave us the rest of the night to unwind and get to know each other. I sat by the fire and relaxed talked with some of the ladies and then went to bed.
Day 2 was spent doing paddle board yoga and then we had some fun at a different cabin. It was the Mother of the founder of the retreat. They had a boat, jet ski, paddle boards, other water sport stuff and free beer. So I had a fun day of water stuff plus day drinking and then some neat conversations. You will not starve if you are ever to go to this retreat. I don't think I have ever eaten that much food and I am from an Italian family. But it was a lovely day and I had a blast.
 After day 2 my days blended together, but we had a lovely dinner at a restaurant names Spanky's....It wasn't like you're thinking trust me I was thinking the same thing, it was pretty damn good food and I was rocking my outfit.

like look at that.Need I say more. And for those who actually know me, no I didn't fall. We had some very nice volunteers at the retreat who helped me in and out of the van. I took advantage of the fact that I was out and about. I never go out to where I need to dress up, I got some weird looks from the natives but its all good at least I gave them something to talk about. While at dinner the musician that was there played Piano Man which of course we all had to sing....loudly. Apparently we attracted the attention from a very drunk couple who asked if if we were celebrating a divorce. After telling him no, an awkward pause and praying they would scatter away to continue their drunk shenanigans elsewhere, we decided our new toast was "Cheers to not being divorced"-Widow Humor.  

A couple of glasses of wine, great food and a few inappropriate jokes about balls and our evening was coming to an end. After that we did some shopping and then I decided I was going to go for a walk on one of the little trails they have. First of all I learned that flys that bite absolutely love me a lot more than I love them....damn flys, second of all I apparently have learned nothing from horror movies because I went for a walk in the woods, in an unknown area, with my headphones, ALONE. In all fairness I did let people know where I was going "in case I don't come back" which they thought was funny. As I am walking (again with my headphones in) my thoughts went from "Wow nature is so pretty" to "Someone could totally be stalking me right now and I wouldn't even hear them because I am a dumbass and have my headphones in" and I know what you're thinking "Surely Rai you aren't that dumb" well you know I love to prove people wrong..here's proof 

Here's me...in the middle of nowhere with my headphones in, trying to take a photo with this weed thing I cant remember the name of trying to look cute. Yup proof of my stupidity. Either sarcasm or trying to be cute will kill me one day that's for sure. 

I connected with a few ladies towards the end of the retreat which was nice, they're all awesome but its hard for me sometimes. But overall everyone was pretty awesome. There was also a lady who volunteered who taught us a healing through writing course which of course like a dumb dumb I missed, but I did have the opportunity to talk to her after our Sunday night dinner (she gave me an extra workbook to help my writing). I told her about my blog and ultimately about my dream of creating a book for widows by widows, a collection of stories whether they be funny or sad, etc., but it could be a reminder that you're not alone. Well she loved the idea and wants to make it happen which is amazing because I never thought the idea would gain traction. Not only is she interested but the founder of the retreat wants to join in the adventure as well. LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? What an amazing opportunity and I hope that it turns out the way I want to. Here's to hoping <3 

 All the ladies with our wire art that they got for us. Mine said Peace :) I love it

 R.Riveter company which is a company made up entirely of military spouses make these wonderful handbags- check them out, they were on sharktank and their handbags are amazing

 Dinner with everyone plus the owner of the restaurant 

Me being dumb

Widow Sisters

The lake- Spent almost every morning down there drinking my coffee and talking with a few of the ladies.

Paddle board. My new favorite Hobby. 

 Thank you Holbrook Farms for giving me the weekend of my dreams. I will be back thats a promise. 

Thank you for reading and of course any questions are welcomed. If you are a military widow and would like to be a part of my collection of stories please feel free to email them to me so we can get this started. raiannesancho@gmail.com  LETS KICK THIS PIG! not literally..i love piggies. 

4th of july

It was an adventure for sure. Before I left i am pretty sure I googled everything possible on how to travel with an infant. My awesome co-worker warned me "she will shit and vomit everywhere be prepared...pack extra outfits and then pack one more. Pack extra for you too". So I did. The night before we left I put all the good vibes into the universe...please don't let me hate my child at the end of this. Kidding I could never hate her, her baby screams on the other hand I could do without. So with car packed and baby ready to go we got in the car and drove 14 hours. I swear my good vibes worked because she had no vomit and no blow outs. Thank you Jesus lol and she only fussed when we had about 2 hours left in the trip so we stopped and ate let her stretch. When we were done we wrapped Her up and she fell asleep. I am so lucky. I was preparing for disaster but she proved me wrong....thankfully.
  Our first day there was nice. Everyone wanted to hold her and swoon over the baby so I let them. Gave me time to eat and drink (#1 mom over here..hey mommy likes her drinks). It was good seeing family and interesting meeting new people...thats all I will say about that. With the exception of if you feel the need to insult Hispanics make sure there aren't any in the room...or that her momma who will kick your ass cant hear you. But I just keep my focus on my baby, talked about my job, compared gross work stories with my cousin and did my best not to let my anxiety get to me. There were a few times I needed to step away to calm down because I could feel it starting to brew but at least I caught it before it went into a full blown attack.
The ride home went better than the ride there. Athena slept a lot and just played with her toys. She's awesome. She did get constipated when we got home but other than that picture perfect. I couldn't have done it without bro either. She kept my anxiety down and made those saying racist comments incredibly uncomfortable which if you have never seen the look of someone realizing "oh i should watch what I say" come across their face, it's pretty amazing. He's my rock and I seriously would have been lost without him or my one aunt who helped me while I was there. You know who you are 💜 sorry for the short post I'll be able to write more later but for now it's work time.

When your best just doesnt feel like its good enough...and other updates on life

So about a week and and a half ago I started this post with "As I sat watching my child finally sleep after an hour and a half of her screaming with everything I do only seeming to make it worse and make her screams more shrill...I have to sit and wonder....is my best good enough? Others seem to take my child and have no issues, she gives them no problems whatsoever....but here I sit, crying until my eyes burn because no matter what I am doing I feel as if it isn't good enough.Yes I realize its my depression and anxiety doing this to me. But do you know how tired I am of fighting them? How not just mentally exhausting it can be, but how physically exhausted I am? Constantly fighting with yourself over things part of you understands isn't true. Its like having 2 people inside my head, one is completely rational, the other well....isn't. It hurts to think that I am not good enough, I am my own worst critic" - Well damn week and a half ago RaiAnne way to be depressing. But that is where I was then Now I am a little less critical, (still kept the title because I couldn't think of anything better) I am still convinced my child hates me most days, give me a break I said I was a LITTLE less critical, but in all seriousness that time was a down week for me. I was stressing about money (who doesn't) Stressing about school (again who doesn't) and just over all overwhelmed about stuff (don't make me say it). But I sat down and after a brief alone time with some reflection (I named my wine bottle reflection) I came to my fuck it moment. I had signed up for 3 summer classes 1 in semester A which was statistics and 2 in semester B, well I couldn't back out of semester A but I sure as hell could back out of semester B so guess what? I said Fuck it and dropped my semester B classes. I was literally working myself into the grave. I would come home after working 10-12 hour shifts at work to work on math homework (thought my life couldn't get anymore depressing, I was wrong, math makes everything more depressing). There is nothing worse than trying to use your brain when it has no life left to it. I know I'd be much worse off if it weren't for a select few amazing people I work with. 1. You know who you all are and 2. You guys don't know how much you help my sanity. (Especially when the day goes to pure shit, you don't get a lunch, 5 out of the 7 people working are having mental breakdowns (I was one of them), you know you're not leaving on time and you are just sitting there watching your life ignite with the flames of stupidity from others and you're left to clean up the ashes. vivid enough?) But really you guys are awesome and before I was moved to the back I knew what a shit stick you guys were always handed but never realized how bad it smelled, BUT that being said I would never go back to where I was given a choice.
              But since then my birthday has come and gone. My bestie from work made me carrot cake cupcakes (girl I didnt forget your fish lol) and another brought me an enitre carrot cake. (they know me so well...my deep obsession for carrot cake). My family and friends celebrated with gifts that are too good for me. Money to renew my universal pass, Ice cream cake, a new pride shirt, another surprise i am waiting on, A scavenger hunt with treasures of all the coffee (starbucks gift card), wonderful art by my favorite little man, wonderful heartfelt cards and a day at the spa (which I redeemed today and HOT DAMN I NEED ALL OF THE MASSAGES..but seriously amazing) and my favorite thing...hugs. I know I am lame but screw you I like hugs. Also family time. There is nothing like when we all get together and sit at my house and laugh. I get to see my niece try to love my dogs who want nothing to do with her, Monkey and Pea trying to figure out each other and what they are, my parents interacting with them both and just all the stupid conversations. Literally my favorite thing in the world is hanging out with people you love.
        Now the next part of this may get a little deep and it may rub specific people the wrong way honestly I am kind of debating even writing about it but this is my space to write about how I feel and I shouldn't be afraid to express something because someone who might read this may misinterpret what I am saying and be offended. So....my family reunion is in like 5 days. Well I am leaving in 5 days. I will be driving 12 hours (probably longer due to stops) with a 3.5 months old baby, my baby daddy (were together, i just enjoy saying it), Joe and my Pops. Now I am nervous about the drive. I have probably spent more time googling "traveling long distances with infant in car" than one person should ever need to and have made sure that I have enough supplies for her than needed (better to have than to need right?) but I am more nervous about my family. Now I love my family. They are my family and as daddy says "You cant pick who you're related to so you might as well get used to it" (I am sure hes thrown a "fuck" or "fucking" in there somewhere, probably between the well and get) which is fine because I do love my family. The thing that gets me is that I am different. Save your "Oh no you're not different, you're special" bullshit, I mean I know I am fantastic but that isn't the point. My point is that I was raised on Judas Priest and ACDC, where I feel as if they were more Madonna and Duran Duran. They're Molly Ringwald and I am Judd Nelson (The Breakfast Club..in case the reference wasn't clear). I am covered in tattoos (which theyre not big fans of and have repeatedly told me not to get more...to which i have repeatedly ignored) and colored my hair every shade of the rainbow, where as they wouldnt which is cool to each their own, I just don't judge for it. Now I know they love me (shit i hope so) but lets face it even with our differences in personalities I have been through life altering shit so that makes social interactions a bit more complicated. I also enjoy talking about Jerry and the life we had, the stupid shit he used to do and all that where I feel as if they feel if they ignored it, it would be an out of sight, out of mind thing. I remember the year after Jerry died I was sitting outside my Aunt's house in the backyard enjoying the 4th of July party with my dad and a song came on that reminded me of him. Now remember I was not even a full year out yet so the pain was still very fresh (like the knife was still in my stomach fresh) and I kind of spaced out for a second. I will not mention names but someone instead of asking me (even though I was right there) asked my dad if I was alright. I remember looking up from my drink at my Dad and just staring at him. I made mention to him before the trip that I was afraid they would treat me different because of Jerry's death. He told me that some people couldn't handle what I went through and that I shouldn't be ashamed at all to be who I am and if they didn't like it they knew where they could go. I am sure that conversation flashed through his mind as well and he looked up and said "Fuck if I know, why don't you ask her she's right there" (see why I love my dad) I remember thinking 'Wow my own family is afraid to talk to me...what a freak...i am a widow freak' and that ladies and gentleman was my biggest fear. I didn't want anyone to avoid me, fuck I was trying to enjoy my time just like anyone else, but it was still too fresh for me. Now after that I got completely hammered with another aunt and uncle who ended up driving there just for me, my sister and I drinking Pina coladas excessively and dancing to the Pina Colada song, and sneaking off to smoke, I did end up having a good time though.  I also remember having a straight up,rocking back and forth, hyperventilating panic attack and my one aunt trying to help me but I couldn't even answer her when she asked what was wrong because of the severity of the attack. I wanted to tell her I just couldn't get the words out,she got frustrated with me....I don't think she knew that I was having a panic attack and couldn't talk, so I don't hold that against her. Certain people in my family I have never had to dull myself around, some I've had to dull a little and others I had to just turn off completely because let's face it, oil and water don't mix. And that's OK, I love my diverse family I just sort of wish they weren't so afraid of my grief. Grief is scary but it wasn't like I was going to break down at the sheer mention of him..  So the moral of the story ladies and gents is that sometimes saying nothing is a lot worse than saying something. Sometimes just a little "I just wanted to say I am sorry you had to go through that but I promise to be here for you and help you get through the day just a little easier while I am here" will mean the world to someone.  I don't speak for all widows, I just remember how isolated I would feel especially being  21,22,...etc. Any widow function I am usually baby so I understand its uncomfortable. Death is uncomfortable no matter the loss. Now I am not saying run up to your local widow and shake them screaming "I AM HERE FOR YOU, TELL ME EVERYTHING" just be respectful and for the love of God if you don't remember their loved ones name just say husband, brother in law, friend ect...just trust me on this one....or hey just be honest and say I am sorry I don't remember his/her name, what was it?
    Now there was my Uncles mother who was there at the reunion, she was a widow also and even though she was older than me we clicked. I remember finally smiling just because someone wanted to hear about my stupid stories about him. I don't think she knows how much that meant to me. To this day that conversation meant everything to me. "Don't let them bother you sweetheart. Your memories and your tattoos are gorgeous and don't let anyone take that from you".
             Thanks again for taking the time to read this and hopefully you enjoyed it. XOXOXO

Pea with Uncle Chris and her DK tie Uncle Joe got for her Picture is a like a month old but its a cute one

A special shoutout to these two amazing ladies. I am so happy to have you both on my journey and so is Athena. #widowsisters <3