Timber!

You know the old question – if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it fall does it make any sound? Well, I don’t know about that but I do know that when a fully decorated Christmas tree falls down in your living room in the middle of the night about 30 feet away from your bed the only one who hears it is Sabina – the dog. It wakes her up, she goes and investigates and that makes the other dog stir, who you tell to go back to sleep. You don’t get up yourself and investigate. Instead you assume that Sabina is hot and just moving to somewhere cooler in the house. Then the APIC gets up early the next morning to go to work and when he sits down to put on his shoes and looks out the front window – which should be blocked by the tree – he thinks we are in the middle of a holiday nightmare and that someone stole the tree.

Fortunately (?) that wasn’t the case. No stolen tree – just an 8-foot beast of a tree was on its side in a mess of broken ornaments and bulbs. There were pine needles and water everywhere, and then two dogs up in the mix who thought they could help. Quite frankly it was a freaking mess. Immediately though some good thoughts run through my head – the girls (dogs) are okay, it didn’t go the other way and bust through what would have been some very expensive windows, it is just a tree. It feels good to be in control and not loosing my mind. It feels good to be able to tackle the clean up and know that nothing was lost that can’t be either replaced or lived with out. It felt good to go to the good and not to the bad – which years ago was exactly where I would have gone. I have missed that.

As of late I think, in hindsight now of course, that I have been feeling a little out of control and out of sorts. Feeling like I have lost touch with a little bit of the grace that I had come in to. I am good at hiding those feelings, even to myself.  The tree falling down wasn’t catastrophic and I think I needed to have something craptastic to remind me what true catastrophe is – this wasn’t it. Still  even if it was, it was something to remind me that I GOT THIS. All of it.  Yep, for you regular readers (although I haven’t been regularly writing – more on that below)  this was the universe telling me that very thing. I guess she (my universe is a she) has been reminding me this subtly for weeks and I needed a louder message. Message received.

We did loose some bulbs. In fact we lost several of what I would call my favorite ones. Favorite for many reasons and they were beyond repair. However at least a dozen other things were also broken – but able to be salvaged. In fact, except poor Buzz Lightyear who is now sporting some space war wounds, everything else is pretty much back to new on the outside. Isn’t that how most of us are at some point? Pretty good on the outside, despite whatever might be happening on the inside. Which get us to the part about not writing…

You see I have been writing. In fact I have written more in the past few weeks than ever. I also have a ton of notes and “starters” as I call them; waiting for a quiet time to work them out on “paper.” For example:

I wrote a funny little piece about refusing to go to Dave’s funeral. Didn’t publish it, but did go to the funeral.

I wrote something called I have 93 problems – of which I made up 87 of them. Didn’t publish it.

I wrote “I get it – I am not your cup of tea anymore” about how I have changed and that has changed my relationships. Didn’t publish it.

There is also one called Honoring Dave, explaining how Dave is part of my Christmas celebrations. Are you sensing a trend here…. I didn’t publish that one either.

I hear your cries of WHY NOT – thank you loyal readers! The simple answer was I didn’t know why. I felt good and in some cases better writing them, but just couldn’t. Not didn’t. Literally couldn’t hit the publish button. Then in one morning the tree fell down – and I survived and didn’t think Christmas was ruined. The same day a friend shared that she had shared my blog recently and I felt bad that I wasn’t living up to my promise to myself to write it out – for me and maybe be able to help someone else. While I was sitting and thinking on all of that  I read and amazing post Because You Died by Michelle Hernandez on Soaring Sprits International (read it here). Michelle wasn’t even supposed to write that day, she was subbing for someone else. Universe.

The tree got me back in touch with the grace I thought I had lost in my actions and thoughts; and her post got me over something that was sticking in the back of my mind, hanging out in  the bottom of my heart –  I didn’t even know it was there lurking – probably having a nice tea and cracker with my good friend Grief…. Jerks.

 If you hadn’t died I would not have learned that not wanting to do a thing is not the same thing as being unable to do that thing, I am more capable than I imagined.  If you hadn’t died I would be living an entirely different life. If you hadn’t died I would not be the woman I am today.

There seems always to be some buzz around the widow world about whether a remarried widowed person dishonors their new spouse by continuing to discuss the ways their widowhood experience impacts their lives; our current life, the one that is happy and includes a new love and many, many new blessings. I can only speak for myself, but here is my thought, how could my past not influence my future? Especially a past which has created the person I am today.

…

I don’t think of the differing ways I have filled in this loaded sentence to be a balance sheet. There is no way to measure out in even amounts what I lost and what I have gained. I didn’t have a choice about my life circumstance. All I can do is make the most of what lies ahead, in honor of the potential that exists with each day that I draw breath.

So while the ruminations about life without Phil continue to mill about my brain, my ability to love my husband Michael is firmly rooted in the love I once knew with Phil. Not in exchange, but in addition.

Phil’s death has taught me more lessons than I can count, but perhaps the most powerful lesson imparted by grieving a man I love from the depths of my soul is that at the end of any life what remains is love.  Love well.

Do you need a minute? I did. (I added the bold)  I have seriously have read those words about 100 million times. I have the most APIC, family and friends who have made it clear that there is room for me, my grief, and well – Dave, in this life. They have told me time and time again in word and action. However somehow (just wait until you read 99 problems) I made nothing into something – again. Somehow I spun a story that by posting it somehow said I wanted that old (unattainable) life more than this one, that I didn’t love the life I had now. That I was stuck. See how good I am at making crap up?

That’s it. So now, I see and feel that instead of catastrophe there has been a little grace found, writing courage renewed, and the overwhelming sense of being okay with who I am, and it all started with that damn tree falling down.

I knew the base was too small – went with it anyway.

Just like we all know our person could die, but we give into love anyway. It’s called living.

It is okay to live, living is good.

 

 

 

What a Difference a…..

I now know all too well what a difference a minute can make. I guess everyone thinks they know it, they don’t until something horrible or miraculous happens and they see for themselves. You can literally be alive one minute and then dead the next. Actually it happens in fractions of a second.  Breathing then not. Heart beating, then just stillness. Alive, then not alive. On the other side of a coin a minute can bring wonderful changes too – you aren’t a parent then you are. You were a single being and then you are a spouse. You are falling in and then you land – in love.

I also don’t believe that I truly understood is what a difference a week can make, a month, or a year. That is true that in time things change. However it is all of these changes that happen over the long haul that I noticed the least in my life. It’s usually some weird thing that makes you see that  your kids have grown up, your eight week old puppy is a senior dog, you’re now the boss and not the new girl in the office. Things that happen everyday but we don’t see them as clearly as the life changing minutes that are sprinkled through our lives. My parents and their friends remember where they were when JFK was shot – a moment. I remember where I was on 9/11 – another moment. I couldn’t tell you what I was doing on 9/9; not sure my Dad can tell you what he did the week before the president was assassinated. It is those moments we remember with the most clarity.

I can’t tell you how I got from the minute Dave died to here. It’s been a long haul, much of it I just don’t remember. That by the way is a statement of fact and not a complaint. I don’t need to remember it. I don’t want to remember it. I just need to know I got through it, that I got here.

Here is the second Christmas  since Dave died. (I don’t like to say “I lost him” – I didn’t lose him. I know exactly where he is –  a metal box on the shelf right behind me.) I don’t really remember last Christmas I remember moments. The moment I opened the door and ushered Christmas in by way of my beautiful friend Amy and her dad delivering me a Christmas tree. The moments I wanted to run screaming for cover because I was exhausted from looking up and expecting to see Dave in the spaces he should have been. The moments when my sisters rescued me from that horrible place. When I busted my dear friend Barb “sneaking” in the only thing that got me through Christmas Eve into the morning. Arriving at the  Yamada Inn & Spa to do something new for Christmas. The days and even hours between those moments have been lost to a grateful fog.

Now I am sitting nearing my most favorite time of the year – 00:00 December 25. Sitting by my tree waiting for Christmas to finally arrive. I prefer to spend it, that precious moment, alone with the lights and music. Just to take a second for me,  to be thankful for the night that came before and sit on the precipice of excitement for the day still ahead. Last year that moment came and went and I was amazingly distracted by the generosity of the gift from three amazing women I am so very lucky to call my friends. The only reminder that Christmas was finally here was from a cold nose that has nudged me, and has nudged me into so many things.

The truth of this day and this moment now is that it is nothing like I imagined it to be. (Nothing like I could have hoped it to be.) To be honest I guess somewhere between the minute he died and sometime in the past couple weeks  I stopped imagining what anything would be. I didn’t even notice that happened, that the imagining had stopped, until it started again. It is weird to start imagining things again. It is exciting and scary all at the very same time. I kinda like it and want to throw up all in the same moment.

My Christmas gift this year is the restoration of the ability to imagine. Typically I would attribute this gift to the universe, but I am clear it is a someone who is opening the door for imagination to come home, to begin again. What an amazing thing to be able to unwrap. This night, in this moment, and this year I plan to imagine big, bold, grand, and wonderful things. I plan to be happy – wildly, amazingly happy. I plan to love deeply and out loud, and have many days of just falling in love with being alive.  I plan to cling to this feeling of gratitude with every once of my being, there is so much to be grateful for. These are my lifelines and are necessary to the survival of Option B me.

Option B is fueled by gratitude and fearlessness, made possible by  the generous donations of support from a fabulous and amazing cast of characters.

And this Christmas, it is for them that I am the most grateful.

 

 

 

 

12 Days of a Widow’s Christmas – Day 12

On the twelfth day of Christmas…

Here we are, the end of the journey, but not the end of Christmas or the holiday season. Christmas Eve is our big day, the day that we “do” Christmas. I am intermittently dreading and looking forward to it. Then tomorrow is more celebrating with friends and family, but late Christmas Eve is when we had our alone time, our time to exchange gifts, time to look at the tree, snuggle our girls, and eventually head off to bed. A happy ending to weeks of anticipation and planning.

New traditions and alternatives to the same old thing that can never be the same is the final gift. Yesterday I asked you to give your loved one the time and space to just be however they need to be through the holidays, today I asking you to give us some new ideas that might make the holiday a bit more manageable and a safe spot to be when we need it.

I am a traditionalist when it comes to Christmas, not likely to deviate very much; however, if you can offer way to navigate the spots where it will be glaringly obvious that Dave isn’t here I am more likely to participate. If your friend or loved one is coming over make sure there is something under the tree for them. Its doesn’t have to be big, but when everyone is opening things and their spouse isn’t there to give them a gift it is a glaring reminder. If you are the family that talks about all they are grateful for around the dinner table as part of grace, consider switching it up. Although there have been blessings to be sure this year, it is hard to find them under the crushing weight of grief. Have a big formal seated dinner? Maybe a buffet will do this year, it makes that empty seat less noticeable.

Conversely don’t dump all the traditions either. Some families hang stockings with everyone’s name on them. Have a conversation before the big day if they want their spouses stocking to be hung up. Maybe you hang it up and fill it with notes about that person from Christmas’ past. If the spouse was the one who cut the turkey or baked the pies, don’t not serve turkey (although I can’t stand turkey and much prefer ham) find a way to incorporate that person into that ritual. If you take a family picture, take one this year too. Just don’t force your loved one to be in it. I know that I wouldn’t want to see my puffy eyes for years to come in a picture. I am making his favorite candy, I hate it, but it is a tradition and something I can tackle doing.

Lastly, on any day of the week not just Christmas, I am more likely to go somewhere that I know that I have a place I can duck into for a quiet moment or I can just be a blubbering mess. If you have an extra room, leave it unlocked and make it inviting. I don’t really want to weep over your latest craft project. A comfy chair or bed I can climb into and not feel weird. Leave out a throw blanket I can cuddle up with and set out a box of tissue. If you see me duck out of the room, give me a few minutes before you lightly knock and ask if I need anything. While you know I love my nieces and nephews with all my heart, don’t send them in to cheer me up. I don’t want to have to answer their questions as to why I am crying, I just need to take a few breaths and wipe away a few tears on my own.

You also should know that a safe place may be my own house, my own bed. You know that the holidays, even the best of days, can be exhausting. Well I am already freaking exhausted and I bet your loved one is too. I may not be able to stay the whole day, that’s okay – remember yesterday you gave me permission to be how I need to be. That is why I love you.

12 Days of a Widow’s Christmas – Day 11

On the eleventh day of Christmas …

So I have been calling this the Twelve Days of a Widow’s Christmas, but that is because I celebrate Christmas and not one of the many other holidays that happen in and around December 25th. I celebrate Christmas in the way of lots and lots of lights, cute ornaments, presents, and good food. In another post I am sure I will get around to talking about my relationship, if you want to call it that – I am personally not sure what to call it, with God. I am one of those “happy holidays” girls. Not because I am politically correct but if I don’t know you well enough to know what you do or don’t celebrate, I am not presumptuous enough wish you something that you don’t believe in. Personally my favorite holiday this time of year is Hanukkah, for a variety of reasons, that again are good for another post.

However, as someone who LOVES LOVES LOVES, Christmas I find myself in a strange place this year. I am ready for Christmas to be over. I am trying to remind myself that is okay. Quite frankly I am shocked and a little scared at my developing feelings about Christmas. Besides this being the first Christmas without Dave, Christmas was one of the few things that Dave didn’t quite see eye to eye on. That said, a very wise friend reminded me recently that Dave loved me way more than he disliked Christmas. With that I am forging ahead. I decorated and plan on celebrating with friends and family. It’s funny, some people couldn’t believe I decorated and others couldn’t imagine me doing it any other way. Let’s just say I am glad to say I followed my gut.

Today’s gift is permission. Permission from those we love to be however we need to be at this time of year regardless what we are celebrating – and it is completely okay to NOT celebrate anything this year. Now I want to be clear, as an adult I don’t need my friends and family’s permission to feel or not feel; to do or not do anything in particular. However, I would be lying if I said that I do not analyze my feelings in contrast to what I think that my friends and family might be thinking or expecting. Crazy right? Welcome to widow’s world. What is even worse is that you are hearing this from an overly confident, type-A girl, who doesn’t ask for permission. I ask for forgiveness. Yet now I am worried that I might by letting people down because of something I can’t control – my feelings.

I would never want my friends to be untruthful or to lie to me. However, I hope that they can (and I am lucky because so far they do) withhold judgement. I may be making decisions that they don’t like or agree with, but as long as I am not doing something outright stupid I want and need their support. I want them to tell me – do whatever you need and want to do to get through this first Christmas. I want them to give me permission to do things exactly the same way we have always done then, and then deviate at the last minute. I want them to tell me I don’t want you to sit alone on Christmas but I will respect that – just know I am going to text you a time or two. I want them to give me permission where I never needed or wanted it before. If they happen to mean it too – well, that is just a bonus.

12 Days of a Widow’s Christmas – Day 10

On the tenth day of Christmas …

Dave died nine months and twenty days ago. (Yes I know how many hours and minutes too.) I am embarrassed and ashamed to say that some memories are already fuzzy. When I was first seeing my counselor she tasked me with writing down every memory about him that I could remember. Not really the memories of “oh that time when we were at the beach.” More like “Dave hated avocados” and “Dave had the worst chicken scratch he called handwriting” and “Dave was left-handed but he shot and batted like a righty.” She explained that may widows go through a second loss and grief period when they realize there are everyday day things that they have forgotten. Things that on any other day or time they could recall or summon to their mind.

I bought a pretty large notebook and started writing, I thought for sure that I would fill it in no time. Of course I didn’t, and while I felt guilt about that I kept writing. I still write things down today – nine months and twenty days later. I suspect that I will be writing things for the foreseeable future. Now I do include some funny antidotes, or notes about trips and other memories. However there are still routine things, that strike me at the weirdest times – like when we were having french bread Dave cut off both ends and ate them while he cooked.

Buy a note-book, write things down. Type it up, save it digitally – it doesn’t matter. They won’t care if your handwriting sucks, if it is on note paper or fine parchment, written in pencil or with a quill. Write everything you can remember about your loved one’s spouse. Include memories, the stories of lore, how you met, everything. Put their lives down on paper. I imagine that this would be even more important if there are children – especially if they aren’t going to remember their mom or dad. Write until you think you can’t write any more and then leave it for a few days, things will bubble to the surface. I used to carry the book around with me and wrote at the moment that something struck me. Now I leave myself a little note on my phone and add it when I get home.

When you think you are done, or when you are ready, let your loved one know. Do not be upset if they don’t want it, save it, we may want it someday. I know that I probably wouldn’t have wanted it in those first days, but at Dave’s funeral his co-workers had written a book of memories for me. I was overwhelmed, in a good way, at the things I learned about the man I thought I knew everything about. Dave and I had been married just over 23 years when he died and while I knew that he loved me, I found that was IN love with me, by the way he talked about me to co-workers. The same thing happened with our friends, who told stories. Apparently Dave talked about me a lot – and that made my heart swell. It was as if he was telling me one more time “I love you.”

12 Days of a Widow’s Christmas – Day 9

On the ninth day of Christmas …

This is for the people in the inner-circle, the people who can really have the horrible, difficult uncomfortable conversations with the widow. I already told you that we aren’t going to ask for help, and quite frankly I don’t always know what to ask for anyway. I am a smart cookie and feel I am able to navigate life pretty well on my own. However the simple truth though, is that I didn’t have to, and I don’t really want too. I had a partner in life, in love, in crime, and the bureaucracy  of marriage. I miss that horribly.

Dave managed the finances, taxes, and if it required maintenance (like an appliance or car) – that fell in to his AOR: area of responsibility. Last week I took my car in for a routine oil change and they said that I needed a new battery. I actually knew that – proud to say that at 41 this girl still knows how to pop-a-clutch! At any rate they said it would be $145 to put it in blah blah blah. My brain was like ARE YOU KIDDING ME??? So I texted my new car guy – one of Dave’s best friends – and said: surely you can put a new battery in my car for less than a $145 right? He said of course, but then had the good sense to call Auto Zone and found out that a battery for my car is $132.

Um, since when do car batteries cost $132. That is when I realized that the last time I bought a car battery I was a sophomore in high school, and it was $40. While I still think $132 is highway robbery, the $13 install wasn’t. I had them put it in. What I need is a guide for this sort of crap. However it is only the people in the inner circle who have “permission” to give out that sort of advice. If you are in the inner circle and think or know your widowed friends are going to need help with that sort of thing give them a map.

A little cheat sheet about how much and how frequently I need to do things for my car. It is a quick google search and you can print that stuff right from the car manual. Yes, I have the manual for my car, but I didn’t know that people actually read those things. I had to do taxes myself this year, he died before they were done. Again – I know that I am not stupid but they asked for things that I had no idea about. If you regularly do your family’s taxes let your friend know you are comfortable doing them and are happy to help.

What about backing up the computer? Are they doing it, do they know how? Dave would be in a tough place if he was the one here and I was gone. Dave too was very smart but computers and our particular set up – yeah not his forte.I know that if I lost our pictures (I have everything even the before digital stuff converted to digital) I would probably lose my mind. Seriously, that would be the final straw. I know that I couldn’t bear another loss especially not that. It would feel like he was erased, I already feel like that, but looking at the photos and videos keeps him fresh in my mind. Preventing the lost of those tangible memories – wow that is a gift that could never be repaid.

We are all good at something. I think for the most part we are all happy to help out a friend, and right now that friend will be happy for the help – so offer away.

12 Days of a Widow’s Christmas – Day 8

On the eighth day of Christmas …

This is the un-Christmas gift, it is free, and it only takes five minutes. Grab your phone and schedule time to connect with your widowed friend each month. Sound disingenuous? I am okay with that. Here is an example. Almost a week ago I was out with my puppy-raising friends and we were taking our puppies-in-training on a walk through one of those neighborhoods that really go all out with the Christmas lights. A friend was going to meet us on the route. At some point, on her way to finding, us she tripped and fell. I knew this because her daughter called and told me. We still met up with her daughter and I assumed that meant my friend was okay.

At least FOUR times since last week my friend has popped into my head and almost as soon as it did, the thought escaped me. I am not going to blame it on widow brain – which is completely real by the way – I am going to blame it on my lack of prioritization. This worries me that I am already falling into old habits that I immediately regretted when Dave died. I finally sent her a quick message tonight and as it turned out she ended up in the emergency room. She is fine, well going to be fine, but I felt like an ass. I have spent quite a bit of time in this brand new blog telling you how important it is to reach out and I haven’t followed my own advice.

Pick a random date each month, put a 15 minute appointment on your calendar. When it pops up on your phone send a text or call your friend. They may not be able to talk or may not answer – leave a message. It is the gift that keeps on giving. While you have your calendar open put in two more appointments. The first one a few days before the anniversary of their spouse – your friend will need your support in the time leading up to the their death. It doesn’t matter what anniversary it is, they are hard. Then make an appointment for the anniversary itself. I get it, you have life and life goes on. In some ways it has for me too.

Disingenuous? I don’t think so – your planning for a moment of kindness. Not disingenuous at all – amazing if you ask me.

12 Days of a Widow’s Christmas – Day 7

On the seventh day of Christmas …

I am so very lucky that I am able to live relatively similarly, in a financial sense, after Dave’s death as I was before he died. That is not true for many widows. Even so there are many things that I used to do that I now feel are frivolous, even though I can afford them.

It is a weird balance. I am uncomfortable knowing that I am solely reliant on myself financially, that there isn’t a second income to fall back on, a second retirement to count on. Then lets not forget that I am in officially still in mourning so I shouldn’t be having fun – right? Well no, that isn’t right but that is the story that is in my head. I will admit that I am getting better, I don’t immediately feel guilt after laughing, having a good time, or looking forward to something. Still I skip little things that I used to enjoy. I am not sure if it is because I have convinced myself I can’t afford it or if I think that I don’t deserve if emotionally.

This is one time that gift cards are completely acceptable. Is your friend a reader, a music fan, or a movie goer? Gift card! Used to be mani/pedi buddies? Ladies who lunched? Friends who partook in an evening of Wine & Whining? Gift Card! Chances are we still like many of those things but for whatever reason we aren’t doing them. Maybe we can’t afford them anymore or we aren’t doing them as penance as part of our survivors guilt. The other part of a gift card is that we don’t have use it immediately, it can be in our time, our own schedule.

12 Days of a Widow’s Christmas – Day 6

On the sixth day of Christmas …

Give a widow specifics. I know that you probably don’t know what to do, or say. It’s awkward, trust me I get it. It is a wonderful sentiment when you say – call if you need anything – even if you really mean it. I hope that you aren’t sitting around waiting by the phone. Most of us are not going to call. For me, at first I didn’t know what to ask for. Then I didn’t want to impose on the goodwill of my friends and family. Now I feel like I need to save up my favors for something really big. Stupid right? I need you to give me specifics like: call me when you are ready for that oil change!”

Dave was one of those guys who would do anything he could for anyone, not just his friends and family. My friends remind me of that frequently and want to repay his goodwill. One of the best things that has happened are the friends that have just done stuff. Dave and I had moved into a new to us house shortly before he died. We never had the chance to unpack everything, which included the garage. His best friends came over and build all the shelves and helped unpack. Well actually they did it all for me. I want to be clear that they offered and then we made arrangements – they didn’t surprise me with such a huge act. We widows have had enough surprises, so this takes some planning and sensitivity, but what I am getting at is that they didn’t just say “call if you need anything.” They said ” I know that the garage is not unpacked, and although you aren’t going to ask you are going to need some help, let’s pick a weekend we can do it.” We picked one and they did in a few hours something that I couldn’t have possibly even done months later. They consulted me on every step and when I couldn’t be out there with them they proceeded with caution.

I am not suggesting that you configure your widowed loved one’s house – do NOT make the catastrophic mistake of cleaning out a closet or something like that being helpful – but make a specific offer. Make it difficult for us to say no. I really wanted to decorate for Christmas but the thought of picking out a tree and schlepping it home was quite overwhelming. A friend said “I know that Dave would want you to have a Christmas tree, my family has a tradition of cutting our trees down and we would like to do that for you this year.” They made arrangements to deliver it and everything and I couldn’t say no and now as I look at my tree I am so glad they did that. I would have NEVER thought about asking someone to do that for me.

Think about the “spouses” job and offer to do it. Was it his job to change the oil? Call her and ask what the mileage on the car is, tell her when the oil needs to be done and then make an oil change date. Was she the one who did all the back to school shopping? Offer to take the kiddos out for a shopping trip. Do you know how to make his or her signature dish? Write down the directions, save them for when that person is ready for them but in the meantime call them and tell them about how you learned to make their loved ones speciality and set a date for when you can make it and bring it over to them.

I hate shopping – seriously I am that women – and the worst for me is going to those club stores. There is nothing wrong with the club store itself, it is the other customers inside said store. I have a girlfriend and co-worker who texts when she is going and adds my stuff to her list. She brings those items to me at work the next day. Of course I pay for my things, but the relief of not having to go to the store is seriously – for me a gift that can never be repaid.

Be specific (and a little insistent) likely I will be too tired and so grateful that I will not be able to refuse.

12 Days of a Widow’s Christmas – Day 5

On the fifth day of Christmas …

Five Go-ld Ringgggggs. Make a commitment to yourself to call or ring – as my British friends would say – your widowed friend five times over the next week or so. I am learning that some of the stuff I have been reading about being a widow is true. One of those truths is that the actual milestone approaching is usual less worse than I expected. In fact the days leading up to the milestone is often much worse. I have already experienced that. They who have come before and written that down knew what they were talking about.

Dave and I, okay probably me more than him, texted each other so much during the day or at random times when we were apart. Usually it was to vent about some stupid thing at work, or a funny observation about the line we were in, or just an update on our progress, day, etc. I miss that. First Dave was funny, what a pleasure and a treat for me to be able to see/read something randomly in my day that just made me smile. I will admit that sometimes those messages came at less than opportune times, but that made it all the more funny.

So when I receive a text or a phone call that is completely out of the blue I smile. Smiling is good. It may sound self centered to say, but it is good to feel thought of, it has been day saving to receive random messages from people I love and care about. Actually it has been more than day saving it has been life saving. So when your widowed friend pops in to your mind during this week and next (truly not just this week, but commit to this week) let them know. It can be as simple as – “hey, thinking about you!” or “just checking in, want you to know your on my mind.” or if you are the truth teller in the group something like “I imagine that today is going to suck, make time for yourself to feel however you feel. Love you, and am so sorry this happened to you.”