I raise my eyebrows. “No more ThisIsUs?”
“Nope. Now it’s ThisIsMe.”
“Wow.” I set my cup down. “How did that feel?”
“Sad, but also weirdly good. Like I’m allowed to take up space again without wrapping everything in a grief bow first. Like I’m still me, even if I’m not us anymore. I even signed up for my pole dancing class, and because of all your nagging, I am looking into the possibility of apartments in the Seattle area.”
Marin and I let out a few squeals. “Join me! My move-in date is next week and finding a decent apartment wasn’tthatbad.”
Viv stares before quirking an eyebrow. “Don’t lie to me, lady. It was awful, and we both know it, but you were fueled by love… or lust.”
Marin’s face turns a thousand shades of red.
Then I take a breath. “I’ve been thinking about something.”
Viv pauses. “Always dangerous.”
“What if we didn’t stop? The dares, I mean. What if we kept going? Made new ones. Not because we’re broken or grieving or healing from loss, but because life doesn’t stop asking us to be brave.”
Marin leans in. “You mean like make this a thing?”
“Not like a brand or a business. A way to keep showing up. For ourselves. For each other.”
Viv grins. “Birdie, that’s not only a good idea. That’s kind of the point, isn’t it? When are we ever really done daring ourselves to live fuller, deeper lives?”
“I mean, we dared each other to get out of bed and into the world again.” Marin sets down her knitting needles. “What’s next? Daring each other to write a poem? Take a pottery class? Start a business? Actually take the full-time position at the museum?” Marin shoots me a pointed look. The internship waseverything I imagined and I excelled. So much so that they offered me a permanent place on the team.
“I have been wanting to get into vegan cupcakes.” Viv pauses as though she’s already pondering the logistics of such a venture. “Not that I don’t love my work as a yoga instructor, but moving to Seattle and starting a business is always a possibility.”
“I’m in.” Marin raises her kombucha-filled mug. “To grief dares and life dares and making a little magic out of our mess.”
“To more,” I echo. “Always to more.”
____________
@GinnyHotFlash1945 Please gather Betsy and Helen. (I even found a coupon for half off a pair of Birkenstocks, so Betsy won’t be too disappointed.) Your Reddit post, and two friends I didn’t know I needed, kind of changed my life. Or at least helped me see it wasn’t over.
This is for you. And maybe someone else too.
Post Title: The Dead Husbands Society Grief Dares (Inspired by The Romance Checklist)
Hi.
This is Birdie.
This post is inspired by The Romance Checklist by Helen, Betsy, and Ginny—three women with sharper minds and dirtier jokes than anyone is giving them credit for.
The Dead Husband Society and I wrapped up something we called the Grief Dare Challenge. Well, wrapped up is generous. Because grief doesn’t end, it shifts. It softens. Sometimes it ambushes you in the freezer aisle because you saw his favorite frozen waffles. But it doesn’t go away. And maybe it’s not supposed to.
Helen, Betsy, and Ginny changed their main gal’s life with a romance checklist. While I needed a list, it wasn’t a checklist. We’re perimenopausal women. We needed a list of dares:
→ Tell the truth.
→ Do something scary.
→ Wear red lipstick to the post office.
→ Say his name without crying.
