For those who don't know

If you've wondered where I've been, or why I've been so quiet... my dear husband, Stan Dulemba, passed away on November 2nd. While he hadn't been well for a long time, the end was sudden and unexpected. One is never ready for such loss. One of the best analogies I've read is that losing a spouse is not like breaking a leg - one does not "heal" from such a loss. Rather, it is like having a leg amputated. One must adjust to a new type of life and living. Which is what I am learning to do.
     Grief has created a "before" and "after" in my world, a division that I recognize in the eyes of others. I am now part of a club I never asked to join, but it is one of deep understanding and empathy. Grief is not contagious, it is life. And if we are lucky enough to love, we will experience loss and the associated grief. The alternative is, of course, to either die young, or to never love at all - neither of which is an acceptable alternative to my mind.
     And so, I am learning how to live forward while honoring the wonderful life I had with Stan. We had FUN and so many adventures, many that I've shared with you, dear readers.
     So, here is what I did and am doing to honor my husband. I found a company that turns your loved one's ashes into "Parting Stones," much like river rocks. I plan to leave them in beautiful and significant places around the world. There are so many parting stones in this very heavy box, it will take me the rest of my life to disseminate them all. But they will remind me to live, or as we often said, to live out loud. Stan's adventures will continue with me.      I took two of his stones to New York City for Christmas to Providence for New Years, and to Scotland in May, which I blogged about (click on the colored text).
     The very first stone throw wasn't planned, though. My friends MJ, Andy, and I followed a path that runs along the ocean called "Cliff Walk" in Newport, Rhode Island. Grief was hitting me pretty hard, so I told MJ and Andy to walk on without me. I found a bench and contemplated... everything. When they got back to me, I was in tears and had decided this was the perfect spot to throw out Stan's first parting stone. One problem, I have a crap throwing arm; so I asked Andy to do it. Among hugs and tears, Andy chucked Stan's first parting stone WAY out into the sea. It was perfect. It felt right. It felt significant. Here's the spot...

Video link.      Stan's second parting stone, however, didn't go quite as smoothly.
     I had planned how I wanted the second stone to go. I found a quote from Shakespeare's Two Men of Verona that I wanted to read. (Our wedding rings were engraved with a quote from the play.) MJ and I walked to the end of the beach near her home. There were large cement blocks reaching out like a jetty and I thought it would be lovely to throw Stan's stone from the end.      As I started to climb out, MJ said, "I don't know, sweetie, that algae looks pretty slippery." I didn't even have time to repond.
     SPLOOSH!
     In I went to the ice-cold water. It was deep enough to go up and over and into my new Bogg Boots (waterproof on the outside). Somehow, I held onto my phone and it and the upper half of me stayed dry. But I was still so angry with myself. I felt stupid as I pulled off my boots, dumping out a gallon of water from each one (very I Love Lucy style), and wringing out my soaking wet socks. Once that was done, I attempted to salvage the moment. I read the quote and threw Stan's stone into the sea... but remember that crap throwing arm I mentioned? Yeah.
     Plonk!
     It landed about three feet from me. Not what I had in mind. So, in my wet rubber boots, I went to get it and try again.
     Plunk!
     At this point, it was obvious this had turned into a complete fiasco, maybe even a message from Stan to stop taking everything so seriously. MJ and I were in tears from laughing so hard as we walked back along the beach and came up with a more colorful quote to add to my "Widow's Toolbox" - a collection of helpful sayings to use to either respond to inapprorpriate comments from well-meaning folks or to just keep me sane.      At any rate, it felt right in the end and I added the story to my diary where I'm keeping track of all his stones and the GPS coordinates of where I leave him. (The book of hand-made paper was a gift from one of my students - so lovely.)
     So, I am living forward, living OUT LOUD, and I will continue to have grand adventures. I can't think of a better way to honor my dear husband.

      Here is a link to his online tribute and here is a link to his Celebration of Life.