The Wandering Widow- Day 5

Tonight I laughed and cried with two women who are dealing with their own grief and it felt so good.

I am spending the next few weeks near Breckenridge, Colorado with an old friend of ours - who was also Ralph's very first girlfriend.

Sharon lost her husband in October. She also lost her friend Ralph.

 Our other friend Deb who lives in Loveland, Colorado, drove up to spend a few days with us. She lost her older sister in October and also lost her friend Ralph.

We sat in the kitchen laughing and crying while sharing stories. I cooked carnitas and the wine flowed. (I only had a few glasses, kids, since I am still recovering from the croup.) 

We all bonded over a loss and looking over the past four months, I am noticing that many of my friendships have changed as I travel on this grief journey. 

 Not everyone understands that I may never be the same friend I was before the loss. It has changed me and some people will roll with those changes and others will not.

Tonight though, I was with women who understand and didn't judge. (They drank more wine than me- I guess I still judge.) 

 
 When the fog lifts I will always remember the friends (and family) that were there for me, the friends that were not there for me and the friends that continue to walk this journey with me.

 I hope to count you among the latter.

The Wandering Widow- Day 4

Yesterday, I found myself crying over a lost cooler.

It wasn't just any cooler, it was Ralph's vintage Oscar Cooler by Coleman, circa 1981. I left it in Moab in the hotel parking lot and someone took it. I know this because I called the front desk four hours after leaving, but it was apparently gone.

I remember trying to get all my crap in the car in the same way I had fit it all in like a puzzle when I left San Diego. I fancy myself a good packer, but that was Ralph's thing-organizing- he even made a living at it. I usually end up tossing everything in at the end and calling it a day if the car doors will close.

I even went out in the night air of 5 degrees and emptied my car out again, thinking maybe I misplaced it- as if it was a shoe or a hairbrush.

 The last time Ralph used the cooler was on his 70th birthday at his beach party in August. In October, a month after he died, I needed to use the cooler and I opened it up to find it full of beers. COLD BEERS!

 I knew that I could get rid of all our other coolers because this one would now be mine.

And straight out of the chute, I lost it.

 I could blame the medications I am on for severe bronchitis and altitude sickness, or widow brain, but in the end, it doesn't matter. I drove off and left it and someone took it.

I sat in the car and cried, and then I remembered it held a bottle of Baileys Irish Cream, an expensive bottle of Rombauer Chardonnay my friend gave me for Christmas and my freaking cough syrup- talk about insult to injury.

That just pissed me off.

 I woke up this morning and thought about the cooler and realized that it was just a thing. I've thrown plenty of his belongings away already and the cooler, while it was a sweet memory, won't bring him back, it will just keep beers cold for a month.

 I'm learning to let go of things on this trip and I guess that was the first thing to go.

 Meanwhile, I'm sure his spirit followed the cooler culprit and gave him a flat tire, or at the very least, turned my fancy wine to vinegar.



 

The Wandering Widow- Day 1

Teddy Rosevelt told me to leave San Diego.

 Well, not really, but his story of losing his wife and mother only hours apart inspired me to travel. Burdened by grief, Teddy abandoned politics, left his infant daughter Alice with his sister Bamie, and, at the end of 1884, struck out for the Dakota territories, where he lived as a rancher and worked as a sheriff for two years. 

I am, however, not going to be a rancher or a sheriff, although I still think I could pull off the sheriff costume. 




I am going to travel and blog for the next 30 days to try and get my head back into writing mode so I can write for a living again.

Writing is difficult. Writing after your husband dies suddenly is almost impossible.

But it's what I do and it's what I will continue to do.

Today I am writing from a hotel in St. George, Utah, a town that used to give me the creeps, but I now enjoy. Things change.

I am off to Moab in a few hours to hike and see the sandstone arches for the first time and possibly get snowed in.

My darling husband loved a good adventure, but he always made sure we had a bag with wine, chocolate, matches and a blanket in the car in case we were snowed in. I have my whole life in the car, including the wine and chocolate, so I'm good to go. 

See, I just wrote a blog post. Teddy knew what he was doing and so do I.


 

Driving the Grief Highway

I don't have my motorhome anymore nor do I have my husband, but I took a road trip anyway.

I drove up the California coast, stopped at a winery that we loved and stayed the night down by the ocean near Hearst Castle at a cozy inn.

 It made me happy. I put on his favorite songs and continued my drive the next morning, up and over winding highway 1 through Big Sur. It made me happy.

 I arrived in Monterey to stay with family. It made me happy.

Day three the grief wave hit and the darkness arrived. It made me sad. This is my life now.

Day 10 - High Jinx (Guest blogger RTR)

It's a typical day at the beach- but which beach? Do I just enjoy the local playground or take it south? During this stirring conversation with myself, the wife comes home unexpectedly. No worries, I was decent. Well, as decent as I can be, which is sketchy.

So her news was a new work schedule and other opportunities offered. Lucky me, I mean us! Another reason to celebrate. So she went back to work and I headed down the coast to reunite with her later. 

Not The Wife

I have discovered that no matter what sand position I choose, young ladies also choose my immediate area. This is great and also disappointing.  

I love the view but I understand that I am completely non-threatening. The balance scale of life...

Great happy hour at the Mission Brewery found us enjoying ourselves again and realizing that life takes many turns, but with the proper attitude...

The Grapes of Ralph

     So- we aren't exactly back on the road...but we are...but we're not. 

Life changes all the time and we're the type of people that change with it. This time last year - pre-RV - we were getting ready for a two- month road trip in our van, mainly to see if we could live in a small space and not kill each other. We found out we could, even in a snowstorm in Mammoth. 

Damn, it was cold, but we, much like Jesus and the Donner Party, had wine. Ralph a little more than me, because I have to write stuff for a living and talk to important people, while he has to read a map (yes, he still reads maps) and make a fire and scare away bears. Apparently he can do this and drink wine. A lot of it. He’s good at it and he doesn’t age. (He'll be 68 this year, ladies.) Seriously, Ask his doctor who recently said, “I wish all my patients were as happy healthy and handsome as you.” Hmmm…

Anyway, Ralph loves his wine more than an OC Housewife loves her Botox. He finds us beautiful sunsets and white, sandy beaches and pristine forests- and he always has a wine to pair with an adventure - like what to sip while attending a polo match.

 He loves it all, mostly red, and since our budget is tight, I'm lucky he's not a wine snob. 

Since I’m starting up this blog again, Wednesdays will be devoted to Ralph and his wine. He might review it, advise you on one of his favorite wineries, or just drink the cheap stuff and tell a joke, depending where we are. Oh, and right now we are at a campground in Oceanside, CA.It’s a tad tacky, but its a mile from the beach and it's home for now and it' has been since the first of the year. I’m not sure how long we’ll stay or where we will go next, but Ralph says not to worry about it and you know, have another glass of wine.

Ralph's favorite cheap wine is Trader Joe's Block Red wine. It's about 13 bucks (although it's important to note that although he may drink cheap wine, he does NOT lower his standards by drinking 2-buck Chuck. He does have principals!)

"It's full-bodied, yet mellow and very drinkable," Ralph says. "It goes well with pizza, steak or a pan-seared trout. As I said, it's very drinkable."