7 Years, 10 Months ... And others too

Someone I love had a mastectomy today. We were not to share the news when we were told. We were not to talk to family or friends. It was their private news. Typing these words I think of how hard it was to carry the secret of my husband's illness for too many years. Him and I alone knew. They warn me not to share like I have a secret and I gain power from knowing it. It is not the power it is the load. Can I not share this load? I am sad for you and for me. I am sad and need a hug. But you tell me to carry it alone. I wonder if I was married if I would have the same restrictions?

When his illness was obvious and we shared with family we took the optimistic road. He was going to live. If we remained positive and did all the steps then we could return to our lives. I smiled. And I cried alone in the car. I wanted to be optimistic. I did not want him to know that it had any negative effect on my life. So when I was in pain I carried it alone. When I was scared I pushed it away.

I worry for my friend and their family. Will they stay optimistic and positive even in the privacy of their own bedroom at night when the children are sleeping and the door is closed? Will each one of them be forced to carry their fears alone, too afraid to share, too afraid to break the pack of positiveness to cry with their own mate, to voice out loud they are scared, to voice out loud that they don't want them to die? For one to voice out loud that they don't want to die, that they are scared of dying? I think of times, the looks my husband and I would exchange, the ones that said I am scared as if exchanging glances across a dinner party table. I was envious of my friend who talked to her husband about dying, was it cowardice, pessimism? Oh, to have had him make a video to me, to his children, to have a recording of his voice, his snoring. That would have brought so much comfort in the beginning. We were optimistic.  We were positive.  He died non-the-less.

We are not to talk of the 'c' work in cases that did not go well and positive. The face slap stings. Again another reason why I am not allowed to talk about a part of my life. I can not mention my husband or I am living in the past. I have to block over ten years of experiences from my life. Now I can not share because my husband was not a survivor. I hate all the talk that surviving is an accomplishment. What does that say about the non-survivors? Was our positive attitude and optimism not quite enough? Did we let a drop of doubt spoil our thoughts? Did we falter in being vigilant of our thoughts and attitude? Did we miss the bar that allows survival because of our optimism? Did the cancer sense my tears in my car down the street? Did it double its attack when the thought of being alone sneaked into my head before I banished it?  Did we fail, so he died as a result?  Will I kill you if I say it will be scary and I am here if you need a hug?

When he did died I was traumatized.  I had convinced myself that he would live.  It is all we talked about, the positive outcome and what we would do after it was all over.  I had convinced myself.  Then when I was standing alone I cried.  I wanted to hug him when he was scared.  I wanted to tell him what a wonderful life he gave me.  I wanted to curl up behind him and wrap my arms around him and cry and for him to cry and to hold each other as our tears fell.

Is it nobler to be optimistic or to be realistic?  Is it so wrong to say I am positive and yet I am still frightened?  I can not believe that in their hearts they are not scared.  Why is it so wrong to hold the one you love above all others and say 'I am scared.'


I am angry that you dismiss my experience because it turned out badly.  I am angry that you imply that we were not optimistic and positive enough for him to survive.  I am angry that your illness makes me sad and I have to pretend again that everything is fine.

6 Years, 2 Months - Alone

I cried today. The tears started falling and then I let it go and sobbed for a minute. It is times like these that I really miss having a husband, a sounding board, a champion for your side, someone to give advice, someone to hold you when things go bad and when it feels like you are standing alone. My family has more than abandoned me. They have condemned me as inept, lazy, a liar. I miss you honey. I would not be in this mess if you were still here yet, even worse, is struggling through my troubles alone and not knowing if I have made the right decisions. I miss you dearly.

6 Years, 10 Months - Widow Friends

I just spent Happy Hour with some of my widow friends. It is hard to believe that we are starting to click-away our 6-year anniversaries. I believe I am the third in line of twelve, one of the early ones. This is mentioned in conversation not as time without our husbands but as time together as friends. I have to do the math in my head to determine how many weeks until my next anniversary. The approaching day is no longer an overwhelming thought. I realize it is not a marker of a forward step in grief. The impeding day has stopped scaring me. It no longer haunts me with slow-motion recreations of the final terrors. Well that is almost true. I am sure a few days before I will re-enact the awful decisions, to tube or not to tube, to feed, to not feed, to restart the heart or not. I will examine again the envisioned mistakes. I will see his suffering. I will feel my suffering. I will contemplate the unbelievable denial. I will visit the ripping of us into me. Not to worry now, I have several more weeks before my mind becomes a traitor and revisits where I no longer want to go. Now I am in that nice window between the holidays and the death and the windows become longer every year.

Some people tell me it is time to move on from my widow friends and about two-thirds of the original group no longer joins us. However, we are not sitting around talking about our dead husbands. That is what others assume we do. Yet even in the beginning, we talked about the grief more than we discussed our husbands. Nonetheless, even those conversations stopped years ago. Now we are a regular group of girlfriends. Today we talked about everyones various trips to Thailand, Machu Pichu, Eastern Europe, and planned trips to Morocco, South Africa, Italy, and Guatemala. We talk about men. Relationships have come and gone since we all lost our soul mates. An eavesdropper may believe us a group of divorcées. Yet, there is that common thread that binds us. Sometimes there is a twist in our perception that is different from our married friends, our divorced friends, our single friends. After remarking that we have been friends for five years, one of the women asked the youngest what her plans were for the next five years. Her response was not typical for a beautiful young woman who is successful in her job. Her response was she has learned not to make plans. When she says this, she seems old. She is not like my nieces her age. When she says this, we all just nod our heads. I think of her wedding only weeks away. Her dress pressed and hanging on the closet door, sending out thank-you cards for the gifts that begin to arrive, helping guests with their travel plans, the bachelorette hangover, shopping for honeymoon clothes, looking into his eyes and knowing he is yours forever. Another revision to the seating chart seems catastrophic. Then her cell phone rings. Plans are not much different from dreams. Before there seemed a difference, one involved taking action towards goals and the other was fantasy. Now plans appear delusional.

6 Years, 9 Months - Stepchildren

I am feeling very lonely tonight. My stepdaughter came to pick up her dad’s yearbooks. Her husband stayed in the car. She moved to this area with her mom so she could be by her dad. Her mom still lives her too. I only see my daughter a few times a year. She comes over, never sits down, and picks up things of her dads and then leaves. I have not seen her sister in years. The last time I saw her was at a family funeral and we never even made eye contact. She stayed in the living room and front yard and I stayed in the kitchen and backyard. It is not that I do not want to see her. She does not want to look at my face. She cancelled going to the family get-together the following day because I would be there. All the losses weigh on me tonight. Losing a spouse enviably means losing most of his family too. You just do not know this at the time. The morning after his service, half of the large tree in our front yard severed and fell and his family drove away.
I think of my mom. She told me when she was dieing that I only saw her a few times a year for an afternoon, a few phone calls a year, and a random holiday. My life mirrors hers now just like my face.

6 Years, 9 Months - Time Passing

His love feels fresh and I think of him everyday.

Yet, there are little reminders of how much time has passed:
The shirt I am discarding that I purchased while driving down the Oregon Coast to my girlfriend's wedding. She decided not to have me in her wedding party because my husband had just died.
Helping plan my niece’s wedding. She moved in with me a few months afterwards and fresh out of high school.
Getting together with the family and the new members that have never met him
The lack of hesitation in checking the ‘single’ box when filling out forms
A brief love affair started and ended
The need to repaint the house again although I was on a home decorating frenzy those first two years
Thoughts of replacing my car that he never drove
Going to restaurants and viewing them as places I frequent with someone else, although it used to be one of our favorites.
Being able to drive within walking distance of where he died without having my throat tighten until I throw up.
Having the ability to sell his book collection and vintage car when I held onto his socks forever
Knowing where everything is located at Home Depot
Going to the movie theatre we used to go to every week and barely thinking of him
Hearing the refrigerator make funny noises and thinking it is old and needs replacement. Then recalling that day we bought it at Sears was only a year or so before he got sick.

5 Years, 5 Months - Healing

Healing has been a non-linear journey.

5 years, 9 Months - Holidays

My mother's birthday, the anniversary of our engagement, Thanksgiving, the anniversary of my mother's death, Christmas, my birthday, New Year's Eve... if only my husband's birthday, the anniversary of his death, our wedding anniversary and Valentine's day could be squeezed into the same two months. Then all the bad days would be done with for the year. There are too many, too close together, as I fall with Autumn to the darkness of winter.

5 Years, 8 Months - Smiling

It is just the money. I had a great day in sales yesterday and today I am in such a good mood. Even listening to the grief ‘blog’ music makes me want to dance not cry. I can barely stay in my chair and work. I just want to get up and dance. There is a smile on my face.
I listen to our wedding song. He was such a better dancer than me and I am the one that used to make a living dancing. Nevertheless, he was a graceful ballroom dancer. When we took lessons for our wedding the instructor suggested he take the intermediate course. He pointed at me. I was dancing with another partner at the time. He said, 'that is my fiance'. An ‘oh’ was the only response. I can see us dancing the Waltz on our wedding day. He tried to make wider, faster circles and I had to ask him to keep it simple. Otherwise I had to focus on the steps too much. We would dance at random times. Once we started waltzing in a McDonalds, much to his daughters’ horror. Of course we danced in the kitchen, just a few steps, and a few moments of bliss, in an ordinary day together. Hearing other songs reminds me of driving in the black Camaro with the t-tops off, the stereo loud, you driving fast.

Today I am smiling.

6 Years, 8 Months - Holiday Planning

I think the best advice I received was from Hospice Counseling. Their holiday recommendation was to have a plan. This might not sound as appealing as staying home in your slippers. However, the one advantage a widow does have is the right to cancel plans at the last minute. So have a plan and tell yourself you have the right to not go if you are not up to it when the time arrives. What you want to avoid is deciding to spend the holidays by yourself and then the holiday arrives and you are feeling alone. If the usual family gathering or traditions sound overwhelming then make an alternative plan. Do not feel obligated to continue all your traditions. Maybe you skip a year or two of sending out holiday cards, deocorating the house and yard, or getting the perfect gift for everyone. Maybe you start a new tradition and maybe you blend the comfort of some of your old traditions with some new ones. Of course, if you have young children at home then this may not be the best advice.
The first Thanksgiving I went to Mexico with two young widows and we ate lobster. It was nice not to be alone when everyone was gathering with friends and family for a big feast. It was also nice not to be eating turkey and stuffing and thinking how I wanted to be sharing the meal with my husband. One year I hosted the largest celebration I ever organized. The preparations kept me busy and the grief manageable. At least once or twice I have had an invite to a friend's house close by. I called that day and said I would rather spend some time alone. This was completely acceptable. They dropped off a plate and I was happy with a little turkey and some movies. One year I went to my niece's home and had delicious food without the stress that can come from the family that I normally spend time with at the holidays. This year I did not have a plan and I ate fast food. I ended up feeling sorry for myself. So make a holiday plan, seriously consider a different one than your normal tradition and do not feel pressured to attend if you are having a bad day. This advice has also worked well for me on the other holidays - Christmas, Valentine's Day, the Death Anniversary, the deceased's birthday, and personal anniversaries.

5 years, 7 Months: Holidays Alone

It is 5:40pm and I have not eaten all day. This is normal on Thanksgiving because I want a large appetite for the pies. This Thanksgiving I go to the Jack-in-the-Box drive-thru. As I am waiting for my cheeseburger, I can feel the tears threatening to expose my loneliness. Then the unfortunate guy who is working on Thanksgiving will know my life is more pathetic. For now, I want to keep that a secret. When I turn the corner, I see the homeless woman and her dog. Shopping Cart Syndrome is not just a syndrome. I give her all my money, fifty cents. On the trip back home, I push my tongue against the roof of my mouth just behind my front teeth. I look up with my eyes only. These two techniques will usually stop the tears. Finally, the eyestrain becomes annoying and it is hard to see the road looking at my car's headliner. The tears flow and they do not stop. A slight sting in the eye corners, a bit of tightening in the cheeks, some warmth, and my vision clouds over and then clears and I can feel the wet enemies march downwards for another soundless cry

5 Years, 7 Months - The Holidays

The holidays suck. I just talked to a friend that is a young widow without kids. She was expecting dinner at the in-laws as usual. However, her phone calls were ignored and then she finally got a cold reception when the sister answered. She now realizes she is spending Thanksgiving alone.

Losing a spouse usually means losing more people as well. Who are the in-laws and the stepchildren after death? Legally they are not related to you any longer. Not only have you lost the person that touches every aspect of your life but an entire branch of your family tree is severed. My brother-in-law called yesterday. I was expecting an invite as well but it was just a message to say 'Have a nice Thanksgiving'.
Sure, I have made plans for the past holidays. I don't just wait to be invited. I went to Mexico and ate lobster with two widows in their 20s the first year. I have hosted several holiday dinners and went to a friend's house one year. Nevertheless, there remains the void. You are now family-less. You are no longer married. Basically you are single. Your in-laws remain family at will. Your extended family spends the time with their immediate family - children, in-laws, and spouse. Another holiday season and I will be alone. This year will be Thanksgiving dinner take-out again. I do eat in restaurants alone all the time now. Yet to go out to dinner alone on Thanksgiving or even cook for one is too pathetic. Better yet to pretend it is just another day. Some years are better than others. It is not a straight line forward.
Tomorrow is the anniversary of the day he proposed.

5 years, 7 months, 1 day - Bittersweet Memories

I listen to music that reminds me of you. There is a smile on my face. There are tears crossing my eyelashes in multiple rivulets across the width and length of my cheeks. I sing. I want to dance. Wanting to dance puts a vision of you in my mind. I would be walking out of the kitchen. You would be on the sofa. A song would start my body swaying. You would tell me to ‘do it’. The recollection brings back that same full stretch smile. Slowly I would twist with my arms in front of me, elbows tucked against my sides, my hands curled in balls, a slow dip of the alternating knee as my arms chugged to the left and then slowly to the right. Excitedly you would say again to do it. However, it was a slow dance. Each dip to the side was a little lower and then my heel opposite would rise and lift my foot up on my toes. There were a few more twists to go. You anticipated the dip that finally lifted my foot a few inches off the floor. Caddyshack was nearly a religion. Boys and men would quote the movie in impersonated voices. I did the dance, the gopher dance. He loved my gopher dance.