Hello, I am Lisa, the Widow Lady. I live in the United States, Ohio specifically. I am not rich by American standards and I don’t know anyone who is. I am an artist, a writer, a widow, and a member of the united human race.
A little over a year ago, I began a blog. I had just lost my husband to cancer and a month later my father to heart disease. I was trying to find myself again when I started writing in a place where I only barely had the concept that the world was watching. I wrote about my husband, his cancer, our journey, his death, and how I felt I might never be happy again. I wrote of struggle, and in that struggle, I found hope. The hope I found though wasn’t only my hope, it was hope for other people who found my words and reached out to me to tell me, “Hey, I have felt that too.”
The people who wrote to me were black, white, red, yellow and all the mixes you can imagine. They were Christians, Muslims, Atheists, Buddhists, Pagans and like the races all the mixes you can think of. My readers weren’t just Americans, they were from Russia, Malaysia, China, Germany, Pakistan, India, Britain, and places I admit I had never heard of before. They were young and old, and everything in between. They were mom’s, dad’s, grandparents, singles, men, and women from around the world with backgrounds and life experiences that brought me to my knees in humility. I was meeting the world from my little computer, and the world was meeting me. “Hello, World, it is nice to finally meet you.”
Each person I met I fell in love with in some way. They shared with me a part of their hearts, of their struggles, and hopes. They showed me trust in their sharing. Handing me, a stranger, a part of who they are and trusting I would hold that close to me, without judgment or condemnation. I could do that, because I could see in them the same things I held. Many of them were scared and hurting, or searching for truth…they were like me, whatever else, or wherever else they might be…they were and are people trying to make it through this life, a life that offers us a lot of pain sometimes.
Our governments, and our traditional media, tell us this kind of fellowship among the nations isn’t possible. They tell me I should be scared, and perhaps at one time I might have been, but not anymore. Among all of us there are bad people, but most of us, as different as we all are have a sameness. We have hopes and dreams, and pains, and we want people to know us in some way. We want our world to be better and safer for our families. We all have ideas on how to get there, but if my grief and loss has taught me anything, it is that the destination isn’t as important as the journey.
So, here I am today. Writing for a lovely woman that lives across the ocean from me. We have never met in person. Our lives are different. Our cultures aren’t the same. We have different backgrounds, and different futures. I want goodness for her, and she I believe wants the same for me. She is sharing with me her personal space on this wonderful place called the internet. She invited a stranger from Ohio into her home and offered me the gracious hospitality of sharing my heart with her readers. We crossed oceans to meet each other, while sitting in our chairs. We are doing what we have been told is impossible and by doing that we are showing everyone else it is possible.
Thank you, Sadia, for being the change we all would like to see in this world.
Until next time…Namaste
(Dedicated to Yogasavy Savira, the absolute first person I didn’t know to reach out to me and show me her light.)