6 widows, 4 days in Canada and LOTW

What happens when you fly across the world and back for four days in Canada laughing with people you only know through death.

Weirdest movie plot line ever.

But it’s what I just did, and it was a crazy good, heart warming, cup filling few days with side splitting laughter, so much love, a shared deep connection of grief with a side of ‘ok… let’s …’ when we posed questions like: do you want to jump off / climb on / get in <insert inanimate object / lake / sign / tourist activity>.

I don’t know what you call a collective of widows - at many points it could have been a coven with the way we’re were huddled around the snack table - but it definitely wasn’t a sadness; every group selfie photo was referred to as the album cover for our group name of ‘David and the Widows’ and there was some contemplation that the only widower amongst us should address us Charlie’s Angels-style with a: Good morning, Widows ..

I only know these people because our people are dead and we came together thanks to the internet.

Back in the early days I was diving down widow rabbit holes on The Socials and stumbled across a widow the same age as me in Utah whose husband had died the week before Pete and she had 4 kids of similar ages. Granted she is super fit and prioritises things like mountain biking like I prioritise wine … but, like, same / same. I randomly (and slightly stalkingly) messaged her to say: BTW I’m basically you on the other side of the world. Makes me feel normal to know I’m not alone with this particular level of crazy - figured you might like to know that, too.

At the same time, she was reconnecting with another sub-40 year old widow in her hometown, and starting a Podcast called: Widow We Do Now. They interviewed me in peak COVID in 2020 as episode 25.

They referred to themselves as each other’s widow wives. People they talked to and leant on and supported/had support from through the ridiculousness of early widowing who understood the enormity of it all and all the particularly unique feelings of widowing.

They created a Facebook page in May 2020 called the WWDN Widow Wives Club - because Karen from Winnipeg had messaged them saying: I need a widow wife like you - start a group so I can find one!

Back then when I joined, there were about 25 of us - from all around the globe, who had stumbled upon one another with similar time lines of losing their person so all needing similar support.

We had international zoom hangs every month at random times of the day for us all around the globe where there was discussions around the necessity of cheese to cope with grief; those who used exercise as a coping mechanism (there was even the idea we might meet at an event where the fit widows run a marathon and the rest of us would be the support team bringing the cheese and wine and pom poms and hydration drinks); we played widow bingo around words we had all heard; we posted on the page and supported each other through ups and downs and ins and outs of grief, solo parenting, societal expectations, dating, how to deal with dead people clothes, how to deal with ashes and how to navigate in-laws… one or more of the zoom hangs may have included people having alcohol at a bizarre time of day (*cough 7am Sunday morning widow bingo with a beer cough)

For over 6 years these people have been in my life - But I’ve only actually met a couple in real life. Despite the fact I know them and their lives very well.

So when a gathering of some of the OGs was happening because Erin from Perth was going to Canada - fulfilling on another group chat discussion: a world wide widow tour where we travel to actually meet one another - and I found out Anita from Utah was surprising her, I felt a deep need to be there too.

Karen from Winnipeg was hosting so I got in contact with her to see if my appearing could even work. It would. I just had to get there. She agreed to keep it a secret from everyone. So she and I were the only ones who knew that on Saturday July 4, I booked tickets to fly to Canada for 4 days on July 8.

It was mad. Why not longer? Why bother? Would it be worth it?

But it was all I could manage around kids and school and work and sports commitments … and my brain… I hadn’t planned a holiday and what I should/could/would do … I just knew I needed to go for the weekend to crash the catch up at the cottage on the Lake of The Woods in Ontario.

So on Thursday morning, I walked in on Erin from Perth and David from the UK after Karen from Winnipeg lied to them both to collect me from the airport.

We had to leave for the 2hr drive to the cottage because Karen from Calgary was flying in, too… but she was picking up another surprise - Anita from Utah.

I knew Anita was coming, but Erin and David didn’t. Karen from Calgary and Anita also did not know I was coming.

The surprise was worth every white lie.

It’s bizarre to be in a place with people you know so much of, and about, and who know the same of you, but it being the first time you’ve ever met in real life and having coffee and wine and shared meals with.

It was so good. It was everything it needed to be.

It reminded me that having been in a very hard place when I ‘met’ these people, we have all grown together since. And for lots of tiny little reasons, and some big ones, I couldn’t have got here without them.

It was just total acceptance. No pretences or image to portray. We have all seen each other at our worst and talked for years about topics grief muggles would likely shy away from …  so there was zero weirdness - it was talk, coffee, walk, laugh, eat, wine… and just BEING together.

I wasn’t / am not in a bad place. But it’s been a pretty busy last 8-10 months or so with knee reconstructions, amputated finger tips, work challenges, school events, children leaving for university, kangaroos runnings into cars, kids getting jobs and all the things that have meant that the cup was pretty empty.

When I told the kids the idea of a crazy international dash, their answer was unanimous: Go.

Bless their cotton socks

They had seen all of what drained the cup and knew it needed filling. And they could help that happen by, as they kept reminding me, being people I had raised to be capable.

Capable of looking after themselves and each other. Capable of recognising how much these people meant to me.

Go.

And the timing was perfect: the school children were still on school holidays, sport was still in holiday recess, the amputee child was cleared to drive but was still off work so could ferry younger siblings around…

Go.

I worried the airfares would cripple opportunities in years to come for the kids … should I forgo it this wild idea in favour of future excursions and school fees … be fiscally responsible rather than impulsive. So my Parents took care of that.

Go.

And it was so absolutely worth it even though now I am home I feel like I’m still moving.

I didn’t have time for jet lag. I had no idea what time zone I was living in for the entire time - I left Melbourne at 5.30pm on Wednesday and arrived in Vancouver at 5.30pm the same day  … I left Vancouver at 10.30pm on Monday and landed in Sydney at 6am Wednesday … Tuesday this week just didn’t exist.

I’m bringing home twice as many clothes as I took because my bag didn’t arrive at Vancouver and when it did, it was 24hrs before I checked it on a plane to go home again.

It has been an incredibly challenging adventure in discomfort and fear.

My brain has overthought the shit out of every twinge in my leg that could possibly maybe potentially be DVT - I have walked up and down the aisles like a yoyo on planes to keep my leg muscles active - because I know that DVT kills people…

The fear of a first international adventure since Pete died and the gravity of leaving my entire world behind and needing to give the kids ‘now if anything happens, this is the plan’ talk to ease their fears of: what do we do? Is pretty confronting.

I had to go have a lie down when we all trauma dumped on one another in one conversation and it took me back to the really early days and the feelings and the actions and words of people that touched the deepest of my scars that I didn’t realise after 7.5 years still hurt like that and could make my body feel like that.

But it was worth every minute of every day spent with these people and every minute travelled to get there.

And for the cool acronym we now have to accompany WWDN.

LOTW - locally it refers to where we were for the weekend, Lake of The Woods.

But we now knows it means: Lore of The Widows

Because if we solved / discussed anything - it was the Lore of The Widows which is what made it something amazing.