Happy Hiking


I want to change the perception of widowhood, to shed the stereotype that is associated with this life station. We are not all white-haired grandmas sitting on the porch watching life go by. We have kids in school and careers; we are women of color, women who’ve lost our husband, our wife, our fiance - our person.

But the loss of our person is just the beginning of a string of secondary losses. Some of these losses are apparent right from the start, but we might not realize others until they appear before us - seemingly out of nowhere - weeks, months, even years after the loss of our person.

I want to use the experience and knowledge I’ve gained in my own widow journey thus far to help other women who share in these losses - those who feel stuck, or who are tired of being tired - or sad. Those who are ready for a different kind of existence in this world, who don’t yet know that they already have the resilience to do just that.

We are far more resilient than we know. 




Becoming a widow was not my choice.

I wondered what widowhood would look like for me, and I didn't like what I saw. I was too young to be a widow. I couldn't even say that word. But the reality is that I am a widow. It's the end of who I was with Rod, the end of the future I thought I would have, but it's not the end. I am continuing my journey, discovering who I am now - after Rod.

In November, 2013, my husband, Rod, lost his battle to cancer. Nine months later, I moved to a smaller house leaving all of his clothes in boxes in the garage in the new house - not willing to part with them, yet having no place to put them in my new place.

Christmas of 2015, I decided to get a few pairs of his jeans out of their boxes and make Christmas gifts from them. I made aprons and bags for my kids and grandkids - practical things that might trigger memories or prompt conversations about their dad and Lolo. These gifts have the potential for memories and stories, for tears and laughter, for grieving and healing. In this burst of creativity, I realized that joy and grieving are not mutually exclusive. Laughter through tears - why can't this be what widowhood looks like?

Becoming a widow coach was my choice.

I found comfort and help from widows I met on my journey, and I decided I wanted to be that for widows coming up behind me. I received my Widow Coach Certification in January, 2020, and I am ready to be for you what these wonderful ladies were for me - support, a true understanding no one else could give, and the encouragement to step out of the abyss and choose to live.