Blessed With Opportuities

As many of you know, I have not been blessed with the fairy tale life. Truth is, nobody gets the fairy tale life. What I have been blessed with is a life overflowing with opportunity. It may not be a fairy tale but it is my story.

I was born into a life full of opportunity.

 My mother was widowed at a young age and made the decision to focus the rest of her life on raising her 3 children. Most see this as a disadvantage. I see this as an opportunity to learn from. By watching my mother work day in and day out to support her family, I learned to have a strong work ethic, to always have a back up plan and to never back down. Being raised not only by my mother but my grandmother, my uncle and my second family across the street, I learned that it truly does take a village to make it in this life and that it is not only acceptable but necessary at times to lean into others for support and to build a community around you. I may have not grown up in the traditional home but the trials and tribulations of my childhood provided avenues of growth and strength that I may otherwise not possess today.

This life, this life of mine is bounding with opportunity.

In my teenage years, I was diagnosed with a debilitating auto immune disease, one that left some permanent deficits, one that was excruciating at times. Some individuals in my position threw in the towel, letting the disease consume them and their life. I chose to persevere, overcome and adapt. Yes, I was in pain. There were days when the disease had such a hold on me and my body that I could not complete simple tasks such as washing my own hair due to pain and limited mobility. There were days that opening a door without help was the greatest achievement in the world, for the mere twisting motion of my wrist would drop me to my knees in pain. I did not know it during the time, but this was life giving me another opportunity to learn great lessons. I overcame. I adapted. I kept going. I found other ways to continue playing the high school sports that I loved. Working with coaches, I would immobilize certain joints for the flexing of the joints is what was most painful. It was in these days that I learned that pain will not kill me. I learned to push past the pain in efforts not to give up (this will come to bite me in the ass later). This was my life and I would not sit on the side lines because of a disease. This was an opportunity to get stronger mentally and physically. This was an opportunity to dive so deep into the world of nutrition and the effects of diet on auto immune diseases. This disease of mine was never destined to be a road block, merely a detour.

My cup overflows with opportunity.

The 10 years I have spent as a Trauma and Flight Nurse have, at times, been difficult emotionally. I have been with thousands of individuals on the worst day of their lives. I have held the hands of others while expressing my sincere condolences after breaking the news that we were unable to save their loved one. I have told others that they were going to die soon and there was nothing we could do to avoid it. I have cried in the shower after shifts out of frustration for our society - witnessing some of the worst gang violence around. I have stayed with infants that we could not successfully resuscitate that had no family present. I have stared death in the face for 10 years. I have gone through cycles of hardening, becoming very jaded and on the other side, I have become empathetic, understanding, sensitive yet strong. Looking back, those very difficult shifts were just lessons in disguise. Some were great opportunities to progress my clinical skills as a nurse, others were opportunities to perfect my communication skills, and others still were opportunities to grow personally, providing me with experiences that I take with me every day of my life.

Behind every door of my journey, lies opportunity.

I won't hash this out too much here as I have written about this a lot...feel free to go back if you want more. I fell in love with an amazing man, got married, and made life a grand adventure. On one of our adventures together, he slipped falling down a glacier and unfortunately he did not survive his injuries. I have chosen not to be bitter about this for Tommy's love was the grandest of opportunities. An opportunity to learn to love, to learn to lower the walls around my heart, to experience a loving and caring partner. And in his death, I have learned to gracefully make my way through this life, navigating the road of grief. His death has taught me so much about life. Life is short. One second can change everything. His death has provided me with the opportunity to truly live. I am more present. I don't let experiences pass me by. I let go of the things that don't bring me joy or value in this life. I feverishly chase the things that do bring me joy and add value to my life. Speaking of chasing things that bring me joy, I recently had a friend ask me what was stopping me from starting a business that I have been dreaming about for years. Fear. Fear was the number one reason. I was fearful of jumping into this business venture alone, for it was one that Tommy and I dreamed about...together. My friend responded by gently telling me that using Tommy's death as an excuse was not acceptable and that if Tommy knew that, everyone knows he wouldn't be okay with that. The next day I jumped all in to starting my business. Although, he is not here to lend a helping hand or to jump in with me, he is still a guiding force. Tommy's life, his love and his death have been one humongous opportunity for me. Opportunity to grow, to learn grace, to be humbled and remain humble, to be ever present, to remind me to continue to push and challenge myself, to practice gratitude, to thoroughly enjoy the small things in life, but most importantly it has been an opportunity to learn to love deeply and passionately for the rest of my days.

Like I said, my life has been blessed with many a great opportunities.

When life seems to be getting you down, pause for a moment and examine what opportunities lay in front of you. And just remember, you may not see the lesson until you look back upon it but in every challenge there is also a potential for some sort of growth. From injuries to losing a loved one, the opportunity is there, my friends.

Much love,

Alison Fountain

Lessons in Loving Again

It has been over a year since I have had the deep desire to write, to transcribe my innermost thoughts but it is time that I acknowledge them, time to face what I have been up to this past year and change.

In many ways, it has been a wonderful year. And in many ways, it has been a really difficult year.

In the pat year, I have bought a house with someone I loved, sold a house, rehabbed an injury involving surgery, started a women's group for badass women to adventure together, tragically lost my four legged friend, progressed my mountain biking, adopted a puppy, lost a job, found a job, quit said job, found myself, worked on my finances but most importantly, I loved.

As many of you know, I thought that my heart would never mend from the devastation that it has been through. I began to believe that if I could just make it in this world on my own two feet, that would be a victory in itself. I believed that if I could just smile again and genuinely enjoy life, that was a win. And forward I went - I was finding my way in this messy life of mine. I was owning my story. I was finding joy amongst the pain. I was laughing with friends. I was carefree. I was me. Then enter "Boy."

Boy was smart, funny, out going, adventurous and helpful when I was injured. Most importantly, Boy didn't seem to be bothered by my past. In fact, he seemed to welcome it. He told me of his mother, how she became widowed and how she found love again. He then told me, "maybe I could be that guy for you." I ate it up. I missed so dearly what I had lost. I missed the security of a relationship. I missed the best friend, the love, the endearing moments of the day to day, but most importantly, I missed the promise of building a future together with someone...of looking down the road of life and seeing my partner and I. Most of these things I missed, I had previously buried, thinking I didn't deserve them. Thinking that I already had my chance at a loving future. But I was intrigued with Boy, so in pure Alison fashion, I jumped in.

There was no need to test the waters with a gentle touch of the toe. We had fun together. We would dance in the kitchen with one another while making breakfast. We would sneakily indulge in a puff of a cigarette after reaching a certain buzz. We laughed. We spent time with friends, going to potlucks and live music. Why wouldn't I jump in? It was fun, it seemed carefree and it was beautiful.

As any relationship will see as time turns, issues began to arise. Some of them were to be expected when beginning to live with another person. Learning the in's and out's of another person will always come with a certain learning curve. Others should have been signs that we just weren't right for each other. It is these signs that I chose to ignore. And maybe "ignore" isn't the right word, for I did the opposite of ignore these signs. I not only acknowledged them, I tried to completely change my values, my person, my life to adapt and overcome these issues. I did this for over a year. Everything from how I prefer to spend time with my partner to how I smile, I actively changed. I put so much energy into changing my ways just to make this relationship work. I continued to change who I was for fear of losing what I had already lost, yet again.

Needless to say, Boy and I did not work out. We are both amazing individuals with good hearts; we just weren't right for eachother and that's okay. I still think highly of him and am thankful for him on so many levels. He helped me get my financial house in order and together we found the Financial Indpendence movement and ran with it. It was he who finally convinced me to quit a job I was miserable at and encourage me to pursue other options in life. He has pushed me mountain biking and kayaking, now completing things I never thought I would be doing this early on. I have learned so much from him and will be forever thankful for that.

Reflecting back, I realize that I will never have what I once had. I don't want to say that that's okay because it's not. However, I did learn a lot from the last year. I learned that I do have the capacity to let someone into my heart - I am not damaged beyond repair. In fact, it is through the breaks and the cracks that the light is allowed in. It is those that receive my love and affection, friends and intimate partners alike, that truly know how special it is. I am loyal to a fault. I love hard. No shame there! I also learned that I cannot replace what I had before that accident on Mt Jefferson. What I had was special and it was so very special because it was something that was built between Tommy and I and noone else can take his place. I need to cherish those moments that I had with him, looking back upon them with a lightness, a fondness, and a smile. I also learned that it is important to be as happy as I once was. When I think of me "happy," there is a childlike playfulness that comes about. Giggling like school kids. Truly enjoying even the most mundane of tasks. Excited for what lay around the corner. I don't need anyone to make that happen, I can do that on my own, by loving myself unconditionally and if anyone lessens this joyful spirit of mine, they are not the right person for my life or my love. I refuse to let anyone squash my silly heart. I was happy once and I will be happy once more.

It is with all of these lessons and realizations that I proudly look forward to what is next.

It has been an amazingly beautiful hard year.

The Ones Left Behind

“I thought of dying today. Far from a suicidal manner but rather my hopefully distant passing. How much I want it to be as least of an inconvenience to my loved ones as possible. The more I dug, and I actually googled what practices exist after ones passing, the more I realize how difficult it is to die. How much burden it puts on those closest to you. Dying is discommodious. I don't know how I will go but I hope it's doing something I love and in a place that I love. I have a part of me that hopes that my remains would be inaccessible making recovery nearly impossible. I don't want to be a tombstone, an urn, or a plot. I want to continue to draw people out of their homes and see the world even in my passing. If you want to come pay your respects, come to the mountains. Come to the rivers, the valleys, desserts, and oceans. Come see me where I would have loved to spend time with you. Come see this world with all of its miracles.” – Timothy Ozerkov

It has been nearly a year. Nearly a year since my life completely changed. Nearly a year since many lives were changed…changed in an instant. Many, I included, have cried out for Tommy. We feel bad that he had to go so soon. And this can relate to any loved one that has passed away….we often feel sorry for those individuals that have died. I am writing today to say that I do not feel bad or sorry for them. I feel horrible without them here. I am deeply sorry that I do not get to spend more time with Tommy, that I do not get to grow old with him and share in many, many more years of life’s grand adventures. I mourn the fact that his beautiful daughter will no longer hear his sweet voice, feel his warm embrace, see him cry as he hands her away on her wedding day. I feel deep pain in my heart for his parents, who no longer get the chance to see their son. However, that is me feeling sorry for me and those family and friends around him. We feel bad for us and for our pain and for what we are missing. In reality, Tommy was the lucky one. Dying is the easy part of this equation.

Tommy did not suffer, he did not appear to be in pain. He merely slipped away, ever so quietly and gracefully from this Earth – out of reach from all of us. Simply gone.

And here we sit. We sit with the aftermath. We are the ones that have to try to mend ourselves. We are the ones that hurt.

I cannot speak for everyone else who is mourning the loss of Tommy. I can only speak for myself for we all process things differently and we all have our own unique way of grieving and working through this tragedy. However, I would imagine that there are a lot of us out there that feel similar.

And here I sit….in the middle of an icefield, scanning the nightscape for help.

On November 29, 2015, I thought I was going through the hardest day of my life. I thought that was the most painful day of my life. After watching my love take his last few, precious breaths I then had to try and survive myself. I thought this was my Hell. Somehow surviving the night in a crevasse at 9,000 feet on the side of Mt. Jefferson on the coldest weekend of the year, fighting hypothermia, confusion, and injuries myself would be one of the easier days of the last year. There was a time where I honestly thought that since I survived this, there was no way I couldn’t handle anything.

And here I sit…

The day after the accident, Tommy’s family, myself, my brother and sister in-law all gathered to await the retrieval of Tommy’s body from the mountain. It was a waiting game. Every time somebody’s cell phone went off, curiosity would spread through the room. “Who was it?” “How’s the weather?” “Can they fly?” “Are they going to make an attempt?” Too many times to count, we were met with bad news….not going up today, weather doesn’t look good, etc. Hope and let-down, hope and let-down….this emotional roller coaster was far too much for me to handle for I was far too numb from the preceding days events. Oh yeah, let’s add into this weird mix of emotions the fact that the County Sheriff arrived to take my statement. A period of events that I wish never happened, let alone revisit and re-live all over again. I had to re-live them, not Tommy. He suggested I give my statement in front of everybody. His intentions were well…he thought this way, I wouldn’t have to repeat it to everyone again. I felt like I was put on stage….all ears and eyes on me; and I have never been one to thoroughly enjoy public speaking, never one to play the starring role in the highschool play. I don’t care for my the spotlight. My anxiety was rising, like a tea kettle boiling water, I began to shake, to cry. “This can’t really be happening to me.” I was looking into somebody else’s story, wasn’t I? Unfortunately, not. Then the news….the National Guard has made an attempt and was successful at retrieving Tommy’s body.

And here I sit…

I am greeted in the parking lot of the mortuary by the County Sheriff once more. He tells me that he cannot let me or the family see Tommy until after the autopsy is done. “Autopsy?” I cry, while my knees buckle. My brother swiftly throws an arm out and catches my by my arm pit. “Sis….calm down,” he tells me. I take two deep breaths in and out. That’s all I could control…two breaths. As calmly as I can, I ask why we will have to do an autopsy. I have been through enough. Tommy has been through enough. Why must we now barbarically cut him open? The Medical Examiner agrees to speak with me before making her final decision based on my medical background. I, again, must re-live what happened on Mt. Jefferson. Tommy lived it once, to the end…yet I am tortured with having to re-live it over, and over, and over again. I painstakingly tell her his mechanism of injury, his initial signs and symptoms and then the progression of his head injury with associated symptoms from the time I made contact with him until his last breaths of crisp mountain air. She finds that to be sufficient evidence of cause of death. I am relieved. Heartbroken. Slowly realizing that this is actually happening. “You are the one that placed his ring upon his finger, would you like to be the one to take it off?” the Sheriff asks. I ask if he could remove it for me, he nods in agreement and walks off. Every time I am left alone, I feel nothing. Numb. Cold. Shock. He returns, slips a black velvet pouch into my hand. It is soft. I can feel the hard, circular piece of metal that lay within this delicate pouch. My husband’s wedding band. All I have left of my lover in this world….all down to one cold piece of metal. Before I can place the pouch into a pocket, I am asked, “would you like to see him?” A heaviness encroaches upon me. The walls must be closing in on me. I look to my brother, my rock, and grab his hand. I know he wants nothing to do with this…my family doesn’t “do” death very well, but he grabs onto my hand with a sense of the reassurance that I needed, and in we walk. He is still frozen. He is cold. Firm, with a sense of plasticity. I lay across his chest, one of my favorite places in the universe to be…it brings me no comfort. I look at his injuries….I repeat out loud, “My poor husband.” “My poor baby.” “I’m so sorry you had to go through this, lover.”  I run my hands through his glorious, glorious hair one more time. I go to leave and my brother stops me….”Sis, you should give him a last kiss.” He’s right. I’m scared tho. Scared that this last, cold, frozen touch of the lips will taint my memory of all kisses past. I gently kiss his frozen lips. Then his forehead. I whisper, “I love you, Tommy.” And then I’m gone.

And here I sit…

I am now in the backseat of my brother’s truck. He is driving me from my home in Oregon to my mother’s house in California. The section of road we must drive is a painful one. I try not to look out of the window very often. When I do, I am struck in the heart with a sight that brings up sweet, sweet memories. I do not see these memories as sweet at the time, they kill me. They rip my heart out of my chest. I sob uncontrollably. Mt. Shasta….Tommy and I climbed on that mountain like crazy. Talent, Oregon…we bought a little farm house here. Tommy doesn’t re-live these moments of our life together…he is saved from that pain. I sit in silence, in the backseat, crying over what has just happened. Trying to wrap my head around the cold truths. Where can I hide?

And here I sit…

After a week at my mother’s house, it was time to return home. Even though my mom accompanied me back to my home in Oregon, I felt like I sat in that house alone. I lived in that house, exactly the way Tommy and I had left it before we took off for our Thanksgiving weekend trip. Pictures of our Mt. Kilimanjaro summit hung on the wall. It wasn’t until I could no longer smell his scent on his pillow case that I changed our sheets. I closed his office door, not wanting to disturb anything in there. I lived in that house with the memory of Tommy and our life together, haunting me. It was tearing me apart. I am the one that had to go through all of his belongings. I am the one that had to handle all of the finances. I am the one that had to notify institutions of his death. I am the one that broke down crying in public places. I am the one that had to “handle” everything, all while trying to force myself to actually make it up and out of bed, or to maybe take a shower. It was all too much to bear. There were times and still are times today that I wish that Tommy had survived and I was the one to go…I wish he would’ve survived for so many reasons but it also would’ve been easier for me.

And here I sit…

Here I sit, nearly a year from the accident, from Tommy’s death. I sit on my couch, in my house, alone, tears running down my face. I have done extremely well this last year. I have moved, got a great job, and have continued to heal myself through nature. However, there are certain dates that hit me like a wrecking ball. I have cried my way through our love-aversary in June. I have cried my way through my birthday in August. I have cried my way through our anniversary in September. I have cried myself through his birthday in October. I have cried while looking through old pictures. I have cried in the arms of friends. My sorrows and my deep pain have made others cry. They cry for not only my pain but for losing a special spirit, even though they never knew him. I have screamed for help these last few weeks. I have bounced back from each and every one of these instances yet I am still sitting here, chest heavy, salty tears rolling down until the drop from my chin to my sweatshirt. Every day closer to November 29^th, I am being brought that much closer to that crevasse. I am beginning to have trouble sleeping again – I have not had sleeping issues for months. I have had several instances in the last few weeks where I have picked up the phone to call Tommy – I have not had that impulse since last December. I have folded my left thumb over to graze my ring finger, looking to rub my wedding band for that subtle sense of security just to find out that it is not there – I haven’t worn my wedding band in 8 or 9 months and have never felt the sensation of it being there like I do now. That beautiful wound of mine, the wound that I thought was healing, well, it is slowly and viciously ripping back open.

And here I sit….I sit here alone, again, thinking about how easy it is to die. Once you die, you are done. You do not feel the constant heartache. You do not have the image of your loved one, dead before you, burned into your brain. You do not wake up in night terrors. You are not greeted with flashbacks. You do not have to feel the scorn and judgement of what used to be loved ones. You are not buried in paperwork. You are not faced with challenge of returning to work. You do not feel the emptiness inside. You do not sit and cry yourself to sleep. You are not judged for your actions anymore. You do not for you are simply gone. You got the easiest part of this tragedy. The ones left behind are the ones that will be tortured by the ghost of your memory until it is one day their turn to go. Until then, I am convinced, the ones remaining on this earth have the toughest fight ahead of them. 

Much Love, 

Alison Fountain

The How To Guide

I am going to say this in confidence even though it is not fact....anyone in my situation desires, searches for, and could use a "How-To Guide" for what comes after losing your spouse, your best friend, partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Despite the searching, I have come up empty handed and I guarantee you I am not alone. There is, however, quite a bit of advice out there and I am going to be adding to that collection. I deeply wish that I could write a "How-To" guide but the funny thing about grief and this whole process that it is so individual that there cannot possibly be a "How-To" guide, no matter how strongly I wish there was one. All I can do is hope that what I have learned in the almost year that it has been since my lover, Tommy, slipped away from us all can maybe help guide or at the very least provide a little insight into "what comes next." Like I have said previously, I am not and do not claim to be a great writer. With that being said, I don't really know how to format this, so I will just go category by category of what I have learned thus far. Some of it is boring legality things and others are concerning relationships, family members, going back to work, etc.

Paperwork

Like everything important in life, even death comes with it's substantial amount of paperwork. Everyone's situation is different, but some of the basics are as follows:

• Final Arrangements: Before you even have the chance to really wrap your head around what has just happened (assuming the death was unexpected or sudden), you will have to make decisions and fill out paperwork for the funeral homes. Burial or cremation? Viewing or no viewing? To embalm or not to embalm? Oh, and hey, while you are in shock of the situation, sit down and fill out all this information for the death certificates. How many certificates do you need? I would recommend at the very least, order ten from the get go and you might find that you need even more than that! 
• Bank Accounts: Close accounts whether joint or solely in your spouse's name. Speaking from experience, if an account was only in their name, it is going to be additional hoops to jump through. You will have to go to the court to petition to become the Executor of Estate, which cannot be done right away. If I remember correctly, it couldn't be filed until a few weeks had passed from the date of death. The form was tricky for me, so I chose to have a lawyer assist me with this part and unless you are legal term savvy, I would suggest the same. Yes, it costs money and in a time when your financial life has been abruptly and drastically changed I know it can be hard to hire a lawyer but in the long run I found it beyond helpful. 
• Bills: If you and your spouse shared bill paying responsibilities, make sure everything is still getting paid, especially any auto payments that may be coming out of accounts that you have closed or planning on closing. On top of making sure bills are getting paid, start the process of getting everything into your name only - this means quite a few phone calls. Don't be surprised if you cry on the phone while making a "simple" change to the garbage bill. It will probably happen, it happened to me a lot. It's okay. The mere act of removing his or her name from household bills is another reminder in the finality of what has happened - it's okay to let those tears flow! 
• House: Don't forget the house mortgage, if you had one. Again, if it's in both names, you will have to present a death certificate in order to get his or her name off of the mortgage. Also, look through your mortgage paperwork for "Mortgage Insurance," if by chance, your spouse had that, it will pay off the remainder of the mortgage - definitely worth looking into. You will also need to physically go down to the County Clerk's office in the county where the two of you or your spouse owned property to notify them of the death - bring the death certificate with you. They will record the death and remove your spouse off of any land deed's. Not super important to knock out right away but if you ever go to sell the property, this will need to be done prior to. 
• Cars: If your spouse had a car in his name or a vehicle was in both of your names, you will need a death certificate and the title of the vehicle. Take both of these to the DMV and they will assist you with the proper form to fill out to get the vehicle in your name. This won't need to be done right away unless you are planning on selling it. 
• Taxes: Remember, you will need to still file taxes for your spouse for the year in which they passed away. I personally didn't feel comfortable filing these by myself, so I took them to a CPA to complete. It was also much easier considering Tommy died at the end of the year, right near tax season. I wasn't mentally capable of dealing with more paperwork - delegation was key for my sanity!!
• Social Security: Contact your Social Security office and notify them of the death of your spouse. You may be eligible for a Death Benefit but from my understanding this doesn't really benefit you too significantly until you reach 65 years old. With that being said, if you notify them of the death now and provide death certificate and whatever else they ask you for, it will be easier and less stressful down the road. This is also important if there are children involved, they can receive social security benefits from their deceased parent until they are 18 years old.

Returning To Work

I received a lot of advice from friends, family, and others in my life surrounding this issue. Some said it was necessary to get back to work in order to get through this horrible time of my life - that working would bring purpose back to my life and help me move forward. Others suggested returning to work to help me have a sense of normalcy during this time.

I was hesitant to return to work. My reasoning: my career as an emergency room and flight nurse struck way too close to that night on Mt. Jefferson....The sense of feeling so helpless, watching my lover die. This is what I do...I save people. I have seen these injuries before. I can fix this. However, at 9,000 feet on the side of a mountain, in a deep crevasse, in the middle of winter, my resources were extremely limited and I was rendered helpless....do what I could with what little I had, provide comfort, and other than that sit back and watch as a last breath was taken. How could I return to work? Would I freeze in a critical moment? Would the next patient that resembled Tommy's injuries bring back flashbacks, leaving me incompetent? Would I break down in the middle of a trauma, falling to my knees?

My response to the return to work comments were as follows: "Give me time." "I'm just not ready yet." "If I go back now, I think it will do more harm than good." "I need time..."

Another suggestion from a few women who had also lost their significant other's at young ages were to explore other career options, even if just temporary. I considered this. Should I give up nursing all together and explore another passion for work? Maybe become a mountain guide? Or should I get a somewhat mindless job in the interim until I feel ready to return to nursing?  Maybe pick up a restaurant job or be a barista for awhile? I seriously contemplated getting a job that had nothing to do with nursing and nothing to do with what happened on Mt Jefferson. I thought it might give me something to do, something to take my mind off of things, make the days pass a little quicker. However, I ended up deciding that my "job" was to heal and to work on myself and that's exactly what I did.

Ultimately, it's okay to disagree with other's advice. If you feel strongly about not wanting to do something and it is feasible to not do it, then don't do it. Everyone around me was urging me to go back to work. I resisted, it didn't feel right, so I didn't return until recently. I honestly believe that if I would've returned to work any sooner than I did, I would not be nearly as good as I am now - I feel like I am in a great spot in my life, despite the tragic loss that I have experienced.

Moving

I cannot tell you how many books, articles, blogs, etc about what to do after the death of your spouse would say something along the lines of this: "Do not make any major life decisions for 6 months to a year." I suppose that advice is assuming you are not in the right state of mind to do so. I think this is a good guideline to a certain extent....don't go blow your life savings on some fancy car or gambling. However, I tend to stray from this advice when it comes to moving.

Returning to the house where Tommy and I lived was painful in each and every way. Every time I pulled into that driveway, I was returning to a life that once was. A constant reminder. I saw him laying on the lawn on the day we put an offer on the house. I saw the chunk of concrete missing from our driveway when we backed the moving truck a little too far back. I would walk in to a house full of memories....pictures of our Kilimanjaro trip at the top of the stairs, a room full of his daughter's belongings, a phone ringing that would eventually be answered with his voice on the answering machine, his work gloves by the back door, a closet full of his clothes....a house full of memories. Sweet, sweet memories but in the months following his death those memories that were once so sweet became torture to the soul. As long as I wasn't home, whether I was in the mountains or just at someone else's house, I was fine....it was when I was in OUR house that I became the most depressed; some days, not getting out of bed.

It was during this time, the time of crying myself to sleep, that I had a dear friend who lost her husband a year and a half prior to Tommy's death that told me, "Move, just move, Alison." She moved a short 3 months after losing her husband and I can remember her telling me how as scary as it was, it was the best decision she ever made. I ran the idea by my mom, looking for advice, and she was pretty adamant about me waiting at least for 6 months before making a big decision like that. I depressingly stuck it out.....Right around the 6 month mark, I started looking at two different cities that I was interested in living in. Started looking at properties, what the area had to offer, employment opportunities in both areas. I found a house, small, understated, low-key, on a small piece of forest in an area I had always been drawn to. I didn't tell anyone I was going to look at it. Fell in love with it and signed papers that same day. Not only was this a big life decision, but it was the first big life decision that I have ever made truly on my own. It felt liberating. I was moving!!

The excitement quickly faded as I now had to face my fears of having to touch everything and go through everything, Tommy's belongings, our memories, etc. This was a painful process, made more painful by the fact that none of my family could help due to a family emergency out of state. Again, it was Alison against the world...battling it by myself. No big deal, I got this....right?!? I survived it with the help of a friend (Thanks MK!).

Now that I am moved in to my new place, I couldn't be happier. I have been here for about 3 months and am finally settled in. I love that it is MY space. My home, for my memories to be made. It's not that I'm trying to erase my past but more like I am setting myself up for a glorious future. I believe that moving has been the best decision I have made in this whole journey so far.

If I could give one piece of advice to anyone that unfortunately finds themselves in a similar situation, it would be this: MOVE! GET OUT OF THERE! I don't care if you move across the street or across the country, the memories and constant reminders that remain in that house will slowly and surely kill you. Just my advice though.

Continuing Relationships

This can be a tricky and touchy subject and again everyone's situation is different, everyone's coping mechanisms are different and everyone's emotional needs are different. I can tell you what I have done and what has helped me along the way but I cannot tell you what to do if you find yourself navigating the bumpy and strange road of life after loss.

Just like I am not a writer, I am also not a philosopher but I do believe that it is human nature to want to hang on to as much of the life of the one lost as we can. Maybe I didn't write that out as well as it so eloquently runs through my mind but I can elaborate a little bit. I lost my husband, instincts drove me to want to maintain every relationship that I could that could serve as a reminder of Tommy. Hang on to those relationships with as much of his family as possible. Maintain and foster those relationships with his friends and other's closest to him. In theory this sounds amazing. Who wouldn't want to be surrounded by loved ones of a lost loved one - in theory, this web of relationships should be the strongest support system that we have access to.

 Before I continue, I want to preface this with I am by no means pointing fingers or placing blame on what has transpired with familial relationships. In trying to maintain these ties to a life that once was, I found myself accepting behavior that I normally would not be okay with. Trying to hang on despite not feeling good about myself when done with a conversation. Trying to rekindle when hurtful things were said. Emotions run high, especially after an unexpected death....I get that, however, despite wanting to hang on to what was, sometimes it is healthier to let go. And maybe the distance will not be permanent, perhaps once some healing has happened on everyone's part, we can once again come together to remember a great man with a wild and passionate spirit. Until then, I have chosen to cut (for lack of better terms) anyone that doesn't support and love me fully during this crazy time. Since removing those that I felt weren't 100% supportive, loving, and genuine, I have made tons of progress in my grief process. Prior to doing this, I would experience many a tearful night trying to figure out what I have done wrong, what others want from me, why I was being mistreated, etc. Someone going through their first year after losing a spouse has so much on their plate that individuals that make you think these things do not deserve a place at your table. After making one of the hardest decisions I have ever made (distancing myself from Tommy's family and some of my own loved ones that were less than supportive), I truly feel a huge sense of relief, like a giant rock has been removed from my pack and purposefully thrown over the cliff. It saddens me deeply that, for the time being, these relationships are no more but I remain hopeful for the future. Please remember, I am not telling you to cut ties with family, but if that is truly what is bringing you down, then cut away. The most important person in this process is you! If you cannot get back on your feet, how are you expected to be there for anyone else? Get your mind right, no matter what it takes!

Speaking of continuing relationships, you will notice that in the months directly following the loss of your loved one, you will receive a lot of attention from friends, neighbors, and family. Everyone wants to make sure you are okay, some might bring meals, others may provide you with things you haven't thought of (toothpaste, pajamas, sleepy time tea, etc.) others may offer to help with housework, and others may fly out of their home state to come live with you during this transitional time. These are the people that I call the doers. They are priceless and can never be replaced...you will find that your relationship with these people will grow stronger than you ever thought was possible. Turning a coworker into a lifelong friend. Reconnecting with an already lifelong friend that you may have grown out of touch with. Creating family out of neighbors. Irreplacable. Saints.

Then there are those that may love you dearly, yet the death of your spouse has placed a cloud around you. A cloud that they don't want to get too close to. Maybe they don't know what to say. Maybe they are uncomfortable with your sadness. Maybe this death has made them look internally and made them reflect on their life and their mortality. I do not know. I cannot answer this but I do know that many will always look at you differently and for all I know, they do not even know they are doing it. Allow it. It may be how they are dealing with your situation. Allow it until it becomes hurtful, then you have my permission to call them on it. Try to be open about your feelings and maybe that will foster a conversation that will reveal what they are uncomfortable with.

Fostering New Relationships

One of the most difficult things to do once the passing of your spouse may be fostering new relationships - whether friendships or dabbling back in the dating world, it's hard! You may be different than me, in fact I know you are different than me for we are all unique creatures, but I have found this to be one of the more difficult things I have done. Picture this: you start talking to someone new, maybe over a beer and you are getting along fabulously, lots in common, laughs are had and plans are made to hang out again. Well, that doesn't sound too bad, right? A few hours or days pass, then the question comes up, "You're married?" "Were you married?" Ah, thank you Facebook! We live in a time where just about everyone will Facebook check someone new that they meet. I'm not saying it's a bad policy, it just makes things messy when you have a bunch of wedding pictures on your page and you haven't gotten around to changing that damn Relationship Status! Now, you have to tell this person that you are a 30 year old widow, that your husband is dead. Then they say, "Oh, I'm so sorry." You say, "It's okay, it's all part of life....like my girl Lana Del Rey says, 'We are all born to die.'" They look at you like you are a cold, heartless person. Some will ask what happened, tell them if you can. Some will move on like you just told them what you do for a living....I'm not sure how I feel about these people yet. If you can figure it out or if you have any insight, please let me know. From this point, it seems to mirror what I said above about friends...some will embrace it and treat you like anyone else but will be more than accepting of your story, while others will not know how to act around you, making you feel like the freak show when in fact you are not. Same goes for when you start to dabble in that dating pool, you will find that your story may be intimidating for some, they won't be able to handle it. You don't need those people and they don't deserve you. You deserve someone that is strong enough and confident enough to be with you despite your past. We are social creatures and just because we have lost someone very close and dear to us, doesn't mean we are less deserving of love again. If individuals can get married and divorced, and married and divorced and married again, then I can get married, lose my husband, and find love again. I know it may be intimidating but I deserve love again one of these days and if you are reading this and have also lost a spouse, you deserve love again too - please don't give up on love....it is such a beautiful thing!

Much love,

Alison Fountain

Oh, Nepal

As I am left with the aftermath of returning from international adventure (I'm talking about the unpacking and cleaning, here), I cannot help but reflect on the amazing country that I had the honor to become acquainted with. A two week trip to the wonderful country of Nepal has me wanting more of it's mountains and more of it's people. 

I had the great opportunity to visit the country's largest Leprosy Hospital and was beyond blown away with how they approach the disease. Not only are they promoting early prevention but they treat all stages of it from prophylaxis to the unfortunate task of amputating limbs. Their care doesn't stop there, they then assist with prosthetics and even help reintegrate the patients back into society. Due to a heavy negative stigma, many villages will oust those with Leprosy and it is very difficult for patients to find value in society again. This hospital does it all. I was beyond impressed. They are even wanting to open up a trauma program in the near future, which I have been generiously offered a position with them to help get staff trained and get the program up and running. This is a huge and heart warming commitment...What I do with it? Only time will tell. 

Throughout my stay in Nepal, I was also honored to not only meet many amazing individuals but was welcomed into their family circles. Everyone was not only welcoming and sincere but they really wanted you to be and treated you like family. I cooked for their families, they cooked for me, I was invested with their well being and them in mine. My heart was sad to leave for I left a newly formed family full of love and smiling hearts. 

Despite all of this, I must say one of the most memorable and breathtaking things about my trip to Nepal was trekking into the Khumbu Valley, the home of the great Himalayan mountains. This is the part of the trip that I have reflected the most on. Along the trek, there is many miles and many hours of silence. There are breathtaking views before you even get to the Himalayas. Gigantic and sacred rivers cutting through the valley, snaking it's way through the country side. Down to earth villages and villagers just trying to survive off of the land were sprinkled among the hillsides. Buddhist monasteries hidden among the mountains. Mani stone cairns placed along the trail to bless the path. Yaks grazing up high in the meadows right before the tree line disappears and the barren rock of the high Himalayas emerges. 

Knowing that I was at the base of all of the greats: Mt Everest, Lhotse, Island Peak, Cho Oyu and my all time favorite obsession: Ama Dablam was more than moving. The only thing missing...my climbing partner, my lover, my best friend, the man who I know would've been screaming the whole time we were immersed in the Khumbu Valley. Tommy and I had always dreamed of going to Nepal and climbing some of the greats....Cho Oyu was to be our first 8000 meter peak.I never imagined this would be how we would make it to Nepal together....me carrying his ashes in my backpack and placing him where I knew he would love. 

He now lies among the Buddhist Mani Stones in the Khumbu Valley, where on a clear day, he will be able to stare longingly at those great Himalayan mountains that we dreamed of. 

He has also taken a journey in the Dudh Koshi River, whose headwaters is at the base of Mt Everest, runs throughout the Khumbu Valley and eventually converges with the sacred Ganges River of India. Now that is one hell of a spiritual trip! During my trek, this river was always near by...in a way, so was Tommy.   

Along the trail there were many collections of Mani stones, monasteries and prayer wheels. I have always identified the most with Buddhism, it's teachings, and it's rituals. Every time we crossed a pile of mani stones or a prayer wheel, I would gently caress the stone or delicately yet with intention turn the prayer wheel, all while silently saying the "Om Mani Padme Hum" mantra and then say another one for Tommy. The prayer or mantra "Om Mani Padme Hum" is said to not be translatable as it encompasses all of the Buddhas teachings. It is a powerful prayer that can bring purity upon the soul. 

The prayers and mantras and admiration of the temples, monasteries, scenery, and rich traditions were still not enough to silence my mind. I wanted so much to be sharing theses experiences with Tommy. I wanted to hear his excitement and passion in his voice. I wanted to geek out with him on all the Buddhist relics and history. I wanted to tell stories back and forth along the trail. I wanted nothing more than to dream and explore Nepal with him. His excitement for life cannot be replaced...

Now all I can hope is that I can one day take a little piece of him to the summit of our dreams. 

As I complete my unpacking and reflecting two songs continue to run through my head. One is a Hozier song called "Foreigner's God." The part that hits me hard in the chest is " Screaming the name of a foreigner's God, the purest expression of grief." I do not consider myself a religious person...not even the slightest. Despite not being religious, I could not help but silently scream to the Buddha. I found myself drawn to the monasteries, having to slow down our trek, so I could spend time at the temples, take my time to spin the prayer wheels and run my hand along the Mani stones. I do believe, this is the purest expression of grief...

The other song is "Switzerland" by The Last Bison. If one replaces "Switzerland" with "Nepal" it sums up my feelings regarding this country. I came in hopes of giving back to a country that has been demolished and devastated by a massive earthquake yet it has given me so much more than I could ever give to it. It has more than left me with a sense of compassion and has picked me up from off the ground. I'd like to share the lyrics only because they speak loudly to me: 

Switzerland, by The Last Bison

"We tried to sleep up in the banks of snow
But soon discovered it was far too cold
So we then retreated into town
To find a place where there was level ground

Oh oh, call home
And oh oh, call home

And oh, oh Switzerland
Youʼve taken way my breath now once again
Youʼve left me with a sense of compassion
For the ones who
Can't pick themselves up off the ground

Oh Switzerland
I never thought I'd have you as a friend
I'm praying it was not at all pretend
I need you now
To help pick me up from off the ground

Our drinks were hardly worth the price we paid
But we thanked God for them anyways
And with five minutes left we broke our backs
To spend more money than either of us had

Oh oh, call home
And oh oh, call home

And oh, oh Switzerland
Youʼve taken way my breath now once again
Youʼve left me with a sense of compassion
For the ones who
Can't pick themselves up off the ground

Oh Switzerland
I never thought I'd have you as a friend
I'm praying it was not at all pretend
I need you now
To help pick me up from off the ground"

PC: Friends Adventures, Ama Dablam

P.s. We will one day stand on the top of Ama Dablam, "The Mother's Jewel Box" of the HImalayas. Cheers to more adventures, my lover! Always with me. Always mine. Always yours. I wish you were there in Nepal, my love. 

Oh, Country Music

"A good country song takes a page out of somebody's life and puts it to music." - Conway Twitty




On a recent drive, my phone wouldn't connect to the car for my playlist and I found my self stuck scanning the radio for stations. I had few options due to where I was located.....country or Banda. 

I don't mind country music, some of my favorite artists and songs are in fact country but I have found myself straying from my country roots more and more as country music is evolving to something far from what it used to be. With that being said...I chose the country music radio station.

There, I found some new songs that I did not know and some old gems that brought me back to good old times. Driving along an open freeway in the California valleys, sun shining down on me....reminiscing....singing along!

Then....Luke Bryan came on with a song called "Drink a Beer." I was not familiar with the song, but it had a great tune, so I was captivated....

"When I got the news today
I didn't know what to say
...
I took a walk to clear my head
This is where the walking led
Can't believe you're really gone
Don't feel like going home

So, I'm gonna sit right here
On the edge of this pier
And watch the sunset disappear
And drink a beer

Funny how the good ones go
Too soon, but the good lord knows
...
Right now it don't make sense
I can't make it all make sense

...

So long, my friend
Until we meet again
I'll remember you
And all the times that we used to"

Man! Oh man! I listened with a heavy heart. Is there something in my eye again? Is the sun so bright, my eyes are squinting and tearing? My chest is heavy again....like something is sitting right in the center of my broken heart. My chin quivered...probably looked like a pit of an apricot. I parked my car ....took a second to push my internal "reset" button and walked into the restaurant to grab some lunch. 

I was going to eat my salad in the car so I could charge my phone to stay in contact with my family. Hopping back in the car with lunch in hand, I was beyond relieved that the song was gone and we could resume the fun country songs of my past. 

Turning on the radio...man! There was something in my eye again! Weird...another song I had never heard before but instantly recognized it as one that many friends had sent me since Tommy's death. I have successfully avoided opening up the multiple links since November yet instantly knew this was THE song. Cole Swindell's "You Should Be Here."

"You should be here, standing with your arm around me here
Cutting up, cracking a cold beer, saying cheers, hey y'all its sure been a good year
Its one of those moments, that's gotten your name written all over it
And you know that if I had just one wish, it'd be that you didn't have to miss this
You should be here

You'd be loving this, you'd be freaking out, you'd be smiling
I know you'd be all about what's going on right here right now

Oh you should be here"

Oh lover....the memories flooded in, my eyes welled up with those all too familiar tears. There was no fighting it this time. I quickly turned off the radio and let it happen. The time we went to Bend, chasing the Bend Ale Trail...spending 6 hours at an urban winery with the owner popping cans of Rainier instead of his wine...UFC fighting one another in our California home...caving with Penelope...spending glorious summers at Oregon's Cultus Lake....they all flooded back and so many more!

I have been afraid of the silence since November.... Afraid of what may run through my head but have learned that it really is true....you literally cannot out run your problems. Even if you think you can, they will catch up with you eventually. 

However, I was not mad at the radio...I was not mad at my memories...I embraced them. Tommy and his love will always be a part of me and I will be better and stronger for them and because of him and his influence in my life. People that are just now entering my life and those that will enter my life in the future have someone to thank ....someone they will never get the chance to meet in person but someone that they should be thankful and grateful for, for he has made me who I am today and I am sure I will only keep getting stronger because of him. 

That is the story that made me think back to country music and what it has taught me. Some of the other things I have learned from country music include:

- Trucks are awesome! Even better on dirt roads

- The outdoors is a perfect place for a pyramid of cans in the pale moon light...preferably by a river, lake or fire

- Morals are important...if you lie, cheat or steal, you just might not be happy with the consequences (think Garth Brooks "The Thunder Rolls")

- We should always be proud of being Americans...patriotism is never something to be ashamed of

- Own who you are! If you are rocking a baby on your hip with Christmas lights still up in June (thanks Gretchen Wilson) or if you are stringing together a bunch of boats on the lake to make a floating trailer park (Craig Morgan), be proud! Be proud of who you are! 

- And quite possibly the biggest lesson I have learned....you must be 100% mentally STABLE to listen to country music! It will always find your weakness!! 

P.s. I love you, Tommy. You are always in my heart and I am so thankful to you for all of the glorious memories we shared and made. My heart is heavy at times...heavy because you aren't here to make more memories with me. I am trying to make as many memories I can of grand adventures so I have one hell of a story to tell you when we meet again. Xoxo