Moving Forward

Embracing Change and Building Resilience

Photo by Carl Nenzen Loven on Unsplash

Four years ago in August, I stood in the underground parking lot of a memory care facility, admitting my husband of 60 years into their care. On the one hand, I was relieved that he would be safe, and on the other hand, I was heartbroken that he had to be there.

Since Dan died, I’ve grappled with losing him along with my lifestyle, my hopes and dreams, and my identity. I’ve been trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be, not wanting to let go of him and afraid of living life on my own.

This quote helped me sort things out as I began again.

The idea of “just move on” is thrown around as if the loss of a loved one can be forgotten with the blink of an eye or the wave of a magical wand. It’s simply not the case. In moving forward, we can better bring our loved ones with us versus moving on which suggests leaving them.

I didn’t want to move on from everything we had and our special relationship, but I can move forward by:

1. Taking responsibility for myself in ways I hadn’t before.

2. Facing my fears by planning better and doing it - whatever it is - anyway.

3. Accepting that even though Dan is no longer part of my physical life, he is in my memories and dreams and my love for him is forever strong.

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter and her husband invited me on a car trip to the Escalante Grand Staircase National Monument. This park is one in a series stretching from Bryce Canyon National Park in Utah to the Grand Canyon in Arizona, and it’s filled with rock layers over 600 million years old.

I didn’t want to go, but I said yes despite my worries and doubts. I like seeing new places and doing things with my family. It was a chance to get out, but it would also take courage.

It was the right choice! The scenery was breathtaking, and we had fun. But this time, I took greater responsibility for myself: I prepared differently, said no when needed, and took steps to enjoy myself.

We thought we’d be staying in a casita—a smallish cabin with a bedroom for them and a living room that would be my bedroom at night. However, that was not the case. Three adults and two dogs would be sleeping in the same room - that just wouldn’t work.

So, I found a small rental cabin on the site and spent my nights there. It was perfect. I had my space in the evening, and we met in the morning. Even three months ago, I would have made do in the casita rather than speaking up and staying alone.

While there, we visited three parks: Bryce Canyon, Devil's Garden, Long Canyon Slot, and an Indian Village.

The first park was Bryce Canyon. The hike was a bit of a challenge but doable—maybe a couple of miles. I used a walking stick, wore walking shoes, put aside my beliefs about what I could do, and accepted a helping hand when needed.

The next day, we went to Devil's Garden, a beautiful area with fantastic rock formations. It took a 12-mile drive down a washboard road to see this magnificent site, but it was an easy walk once we arrived. Again, I used the walking stick, the shoes, and the helping hand. There was no one else in the park but us—it was ours to explore.

High cliffs surrounded me in a confined area called the Long Canyon Slot. We were the only people there, and I have no words to describe it. What I would have missed had I not moved beyond my fears of doing things without my husband.

The Anasazi State Park Museum is an ancestral village likely occupied from A.D. 1050 to 1200. We toured a life-sized, six-room replica of an ancient dwelling and saw part of the original site. This dwelling reminded me how fortunate I am.

On the return trip, we went through Las Vegas, one of Dan and my favorite places. I have so many fond memories. He wasn’t there with me physically, but he was certainly there in my heart.

It was a fun trip, and I had a good time. Taking those additional steps proved to me that I could and was moving forward.

Thank you for being part of the Aging Well community.

If you want to contribute to my work, consider donating to the Alzheimer's Association. This link takes you to their website. The choice is yours.

Janice Walton is a psychologist, a widow, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and a writer. Her book Aging Well: 30 Lessons for Making the Most of Your Later Years is available on Amazon, and she has written articles for Substack.