Cake for Breakfast is Okay: Five Years and Lessons Learned

Five years… that’s how long it’s been since I lost my best friend, my dive buddy, my penguin, my love, my true north…

Five years since my life got shaken up, twisted around, and plummeted to the ground, like a roller coaster at the amusement park, but there was nothing amusing about it.

Everything happens for a reason, right?

Bill W. once said, “Pain is the touchstone of all growth.”

Karen Salmansohn said, “Often it’s the deepest pain which empowers you to grow into your highest self.”

“Be patient and tough, someday this pain will be useful to you,” Ovid taught.

“Grief and growth sometimes go hand in hand. You might mourn for what you’ve left behind even while you celebrate what you’ve gained” – Unknown

So, if all of that holds true, it begs the question… What have I learned over the last five years?

I’ve learned that no matter how independent I thought I was, losing Grubby could take me to my knees, shake me to my core, suck the wind out of my sails…

I’ve learned how to be a parent, and not just any parent, but a single parent of a teenaged girl who was orphaned when he died. Some days it feels like I’m a complete failure, but she’s still alive and she does well in school and stays out of trouble, so I guess I’m doing something right.

I’ve learned that sometimes the people you think are always in your corner aren’t actually there when you need them the most, but that if you look around, you’ll see others who have always been in your corner come to the front and carry you when you need them the most.

I’ve confirmed what I had always known about my relationship with Steve: that no matter what, he and Shana always have my back and are always there for me. Steve was the first true best friend I’ve ever had, and these past five years have helped all of us to grow even closer. At Shana’s suggestion, Steve came straight to Virginia five years ago tonight, instead of going home to Georgia for his long weekend. He ran the house, the flow of people in and out, the kitchen, and helped me make decisions I never wanted to make over those first few days. He stood beside Abby and me in the courtroom to welcome Abby into our family, and he and Shana invited us to crash their Spring Break trip that year.

I’ve learned that it’s okay to not be okay, but it’s also okay to be okay! Being a widow doesn’t mean you can’t or won’t ever smile again, or find joy in life, or laugh again.

I’ve learned that it’s not only okay, but sometimes it’s necessary, to put yourself and your own happiness and well-being first. People will always have opinions about how you’re living your life, but until they know how it feels to walk in your shoes, they have no dog in the fight, so their opinions are best kept to themselves, but when they can’t do that, they are best ignored.

I’ve learned that my give-a-fuck meter is pretty well broken. Unless it’s about my family, my very close group of friends, or myself, it isn’t important enough to even give a second thought to, much less give-a-fuck about!

I’ve learned that some people are transactional in your life, and that when you don’t meet their expectations, they get angry and bitter, even if it eats them alive.

I’ve learned why they say that ENTPs are the most introverted of the extroverts, and why connection to people and the world around me are so important to my own well-being.

I’ve learned that rocks don’t take the pain away, wearing baggy, hippie dippy clothes just make it easier to pay less attention to unhealthy eating habits and avoid noticing the weight gain when comfort food and carbs are all you want to eat, and listening to new age music while imagining yourself floating on white, billowy clouds, while sometimes soothing, is only a temporary panacea.

I’ve learned that if we stop and breathe, we often see signs that we wouldn’t ordinarily notice because our loved ones are always right beside us.

I’ve learned that it’s okay for me to get angry with Grubby, to cuss him six ways to Sunday, and that he can take it. I have screamed, yelled, cried, cussed, and he’s still with me… every day.

I’ve learned that no matter how far you travel or how busy you keep yourself, grief will still come a-knocking. You can either try to ignore her, or you can open the door, invite her in, and sit with her as long as she wants. Ignoring her, pushing her away, shutting her out, saying, “Lalalalalala I can’t hear you,” are only delaying the inevitable. You cannot have grief without great love, and when she comes to visit, it’s simply love… with nowhere else to go.

I’ve learned that life is short, love is precious, and it can all be taken away in mere seconds, so it’s best to tell people you love them, give hugs to those you can stand to do so, even if you just saw them a couple of days ago, and live your life to the best of your ability. All the hours spent working won’t keep you company in the wee hours of the morning, when you’re awake again. All of the times that you’ve had to miss an occasion or event because it didn’t fit your schedule? You can’t ever get those back, so make the time…

And, I’ve learned that it’s okay to eat cake for breakfast… in moderation of course. So, to all of my readers, I love you, and I am now going to finish my breakfast King Cake and coffee, as I prepare to face this day.