Those Bumps in the Road

Bump in the road.

Obstacles

Stuff in the way

When people think about bumps in the road, they usually think of them in the literal sense - pieces of junk or trash on the road while you’re driving that could quite possibly damage your vehicle - or figuratively - something that “slows your roll” while you’re trying to accomplish something.

It can mean something different to a widow, believe it or not. Bumps for us can eventually become impossible to forget or ignore. But the damage is less obvious.

The last time I took Tony back to the hospital I joked with him: “Here we go again. Hopefully you will be home this weekend so we can go to the pool like we had planned.” He just smiled at me and didn't say a word. It's like HE knew and was trying to keep my spirits up. Mind you, I never acted like that when he went to the hospital. Usually, I was panicked and scared. But I was neither of those things that time...which turned out to be the last time. I felt completely confident it was just another bump in the road. I had so gotten used to this. We had endured so many of them already and always kept it moving.

What, me worry? What for?

I got used to bumps in the road while I was caring for Tony. I’d think everything was good, then he’d have a setback and then he had to start getting better all over again. So at that moment, I had gotten complacent and comfortable with all the bumps. All those bumps weren’t really damaging anything at the time. They were more to humble us and remind us how things actually were. My Hub was sick and nothing was changing that at the time. So we dealt with it. The only harm being done was little pieces of my heart breaking, which seems to come back together each time he was released from a medical facility.

Clearly, I had gotten too complacent.

Once he died, bumps in the road took on a new identity for me...every time I hit one, I resolved to kick that sucka out of my way. I wasn’t having it. I needed to protect myself from those things and by everything that was holy, I was going to do that.

Do you know why? Because people kept telling me I was STRONG.

I really hate when people say that because they just don’t know.

Strong. Ugh.

Strong people don’t let bumps in the road overpower them. They just go over them, around them, or even through them.

But just like with vehicles, if you hit too many things too many times, the damage becomes evident, and repair may become difficult or in the worst cases, unlikely. If a bump is too big and you hit it...it’s a catastrophe.

That is how bumps in the road started affecting my mind and soul. Previously small issues had become big catastrophes.

At first, the damage was imperceptible. This was probably because I kept smiling and putting on the “brave face.” No one, but most importantly, myself, noticed anything was wrong. But I felt it, deep inside. Being without my person was making those issues become larger than life.

Then the bumps seem to get bigger and bigger and closer together. At least that is how it felt. Eventually, all of those bumps became barriers. Hitting so many bumps was not only damaging me, but it was exhausting. That brave face started to feel phony because I was the exact opposite of how I felt. Weak, unable to handle things, even stupid.

What was even worse is that I felt no one cared because it had been “So long since he died.” I did not want to hear that I was crazy or dwelling in my pain. Didn’t anyone realize LIFE had become painful now? So what did I do? I sat in my anger. I hid. I stopped talking and sharing myself with anyone. Instead of fixing the damage, I parked the “car” in the garage and hoped the damage would go away.

What’s the fix? You have to take the car out of the garage, figure out what is damaged, and get it fixed. But that’s for cars. For my mind, heart, and soul, I had to take those feelings out and deal with them. Then I had to let someone who cares about me know that the damage is real, overwhelming, and needs to be repaired soon. I had to be open with others about how I was feeling and ask for the help I couldn’t ask for before.

So I give you the same advice I gave myself: If things are too much, tell someone so you can confront it. If you are a praying person, God is the perfect One to help you through this. If you aren’t a praying person, find that person who can be there for you. Whatever you do, actively get that damage repaired before its too late.

We all know the consequences when we just let things go. Most of us need our cars to get places. You need your mind, heart, and soul healthy and strong to keep living for our lost loved ones. I need to remember that and so do you.

-Cheryl Barnes

————————————

Cheryl Barnes was born in Atlanta, Georgia and works as a bookkeeper at an association management company. She attended college at Indiana University Bloomington, majoring in Public and Environmental Affairs Management. While in college, she met Martin “Tony” Barnes. They became inseparable and were married December 24, 1991. After five years of marriage, their first son, Malcolm, was born on New Year’s Eve, 1991. After Tony obtained his Master’s Degree in Social Work, the family moved to Orlando, Florida where she was employed by her dream job, Walt Disney World. Two years later, their second son was born. Cheryl later left Disney and accepted a job in accounting with a property management company. After the death of her husband in 2014, and as a way to work through her grief, she started writing, at first, only for herself. But, being encouraged by others, she began publishing her blog, “Widowness and Light.” Additionally, she is also the co-founder of Black and Widowed: A Unique Journey - a private Facebook group and a contributing author of the book, Widowed But Not Wounded: The Hustle and Flow of 13 Resilient Black Widowed Women. Cheryl is also a blogger for Hope For Widows Foundation and Black Women Widows Empowered. Her hobbies include reading, attending Orlando Magic games, yoga, going to the beach, making jewelry, and spending time with her boys. She currently plans to return to school to obtain a Master’s Degree in Social Work so that she can help other widowed persons cope with their loss. Contact: You can reach Cheryl through her public Facebook page, Widowness and Light, which is based on her widowed journey or you may email her at cbarnes0528@gmail.com.