One of the most amazing things about Camp Widow is the Gala Dinner. The sit down, high class dinner that is designed SOLEY to get us all dressed up, fancy-like, and show us that it is STILL OK TO HAVE FUN.
We all get dressed up to the 9’s (and 10’s and some of us just drop dead gorgeous no matter what we’re wearing). And head down for drinks and mingling before dinner.
There was an awesome photobooth where we got to put on some props and get our pictures taken .
We’d pre-ordered our dinner so there was no worries or surprises about what to order or what we’re going to eat. As per usual, I’d forgotten what I’d ordered until we actually got there.
There was a bottle of wine at the table for the guests to share. My table-mates didn’t drink wine – so I asked the server to fill up their glasses with red and, well, I got 4 glasses for the price of one 😉 worked well for me 🙂
My chicken dinner was superb. My friend sitting beside me didn’t finish hers so I got to taste the amazing steak dinner as well.
During the cocktails, we had the option of putting our loved one down on a piece of paper with whatever anniversary/celebration to be honoured at dinner.
I put Mark on there, for 27 months since he’d died.
In terms of life experience, it seems so very long. In terms of thinking about it… OMG it’s been so short of a time. Only 27 months since he took his last breath. Only 27 months since I stopped being his wife and became his widow. Only 27 months… I am barely a toddler in the journey of widowhood. At the same time I am like one of those starving kids in Africa who had to grow up and learn too fast. A toddler who is wise beyond her years. But a toddler none the less.
When they called Mark’s name, I went up for a hug and to get the heart they were giving out in memory.
It amazed me – when I took a picture of the heart, the lights that shone in it. The bits of life showing that yes, this had meaning.
Dinner was over fairly quickly and then the dancing began.
I’m not big on dancing. I don’t like how I jiggle, I don’t like how things wiggle, it’s not a comfortable feeling to have your belly slap your thighs when you move too enthusiastically. I used to like dancing. And maybe I will again eventually. If you look closely, you can see me somewhere in the middle sitting sorta behind Connie.
So I sat at the table, chatting, I flitted from table to table being a social butterfly, and eventually landed back at my table with Connie.
It’s not my story to tell, but Connie wasn’t having the greatest of nights. I was given the opportunity to be there, to be present, to be someone to lean on, literally and figuratively. I was given the opportunity to be a friend, I was given the opportunity to get closer, to cement a friendship that had blossomed a bit over breakfast.
Connie and I talked. Rather, Connie talked and I listened.
We were hiding in a little alcove for a while, her letting out what needed to come out. Me, just being there for you.
We decided not to do the message release. We had done a mini-release the night before, and we were both feeling that was sufficient and heading back to the room for quiet time and contemplation would be a better option.
We hugged people, said our goodnights, and watched as everyone else headed out to do the message release.
It was beautiful, from what I was told and saw in the pictures.
Connie and I went back to the room – got out of our pretty clothes – and sat down on our beds for some decompressing.
We both had some minor regrets about not going to the message release… but I think overall, we were where we were supposed to be. There were some things she needed to get out and I needed to be needed, I think.
The gala night was incredible. The people I got to hang out with are incredible. And for a while… we got to just *be* and have fun.
Hard to believe it was almost over… that in less than 24 hours I’d be back in Vancouver…