Once a widow, always a widow?? Is it like being an alcoholic? Once you are identified as one, the label sticks whether you are actively drinking or not. Or maybe a better example would be the president. Once you lead this country you are always addressed as "Mr. President" or "President So-and-So", for example. So if a widow ever remarries, is that person still considered a widow? I'm not sure of the answer to this, but I can't imagine that a permanent hole so deep could ever be fully mended. That's not to say that I don't believe a widow could remarry and fully love her new husband, but I can't imagine that person would ever actually stop loving the first, or original spouse. How does a remarried widow refer to her first husband? You can't say "ex-husband" because that is clearly not the case, but you don't necessarily want to start numbering husbands either. Oh to be a fly on the wall in my little head...
Maybe it's similar to having more than one child... you love the first one with your entire heart and soul, then the second, third, fourth, one comes along and the love (I am told) remains as strong. (At least that's what my mom always told my older brother and me.) There should be enough love to go around, I suppose, but these questions flood my mind and when I checked the widow rulebook, I couldn't find the answers.
I'm going to have faith in the fact that these questions will someday be answered, I don't need any answers right now, and the answers may be different for everyone who has lost a spouse. Widowhood is definitely not one size fits all...
I attended a beautiful Christmas women's event tonight with incredible music (including an amazing singer/friend) and an inspirational speaker. One of our tasks was to say what person (dead or alive) with whom we would like to spend 15 minutes. My answer was easy... Bill.
My head instantly knew that he was my answer, however, as the evening ensued I decided I wanted a redo. I changed my mind. My head's answer forgot to sync with my heart's answer. As I sat and listened to the night's speaker, many thoughts tumbled through my head. The main one was that I was wrong, I would not want an additional 15 minutes with him. That's not enough. I recently read another widow's blog post about getting one more day and it got me thinking. I have come so far in the grieving process that 15 additional minutes with him would surely send me back to square one in my grief. A place I don't particularly care to revisit.
Also, would those 15 minutes mean that he would suffer for additional time? If that is the case, then I could never ask that of him. Why in the world would I want him to endure MORE pain, even if it was just 15 minutes? Although it is very tempting, I could never be that selfish. Is it possible that I love him so much that I wouldn't (couldn't) want another 15 minutes with him?
So, to those of you with whom I spent the evening tonight, I want a do-over. I changed my mind... the next person on my mental list is Abraham Lincoln. Yes, I pick Abe.
Although I don't usually comment on comments... I have to say that the person (Anonymous) who stated that I left out color-coordinated gift wrap was spot on!! I kicked myself for omitting that very important detail since it is something for which I am extremely grateful. I don't know who the poster was, but it was clearly someone who knows me VERY well.
My favorite part of Christmas is the gift wrap. I start shopping in October (when it starts showing up in online stores) and pour over patterns and ribbons and paper. In my dream world, I would have a gift wrap room with rolls of paper and ribbons affixed to special built-in wall units... Large tables would make wrapping even the bulkiest gift a cinch... Tape dispensers would be stationary and scissors would be sharp enough to glide through the paper effortlessly... I have the room designed perfectly in my head.
I always investigate the thickness to determine adequate quality, which can make this obsession get a little pricey. It is a rule that the patterns are not just matching, but actually come from the same company with intentions of balance and coordinating designs. I have had this year's wrapping paper for weeks and weeks. Sound insanely crazy?? Welcome to my world!
I would love to have a business and just work in December wrapping gifts. I know I could go to Macy's and pick up a part-time gig, but that's not remotely close to feeding my obsession. I like to shop and wrap early so I can enjoy the paper under the tree for more than a few days. I could go on and on (even more) about my love for Christmas and slightly major obsession for gift wrap, but I will stop here and maintain the minuscule piece of sanity I claim to have left.
I am thankful for so many things that I honestly don't know where to begin.
I am thankful for...
Tyler... our incredible family... great friends... Starbucks... health... purses... my home... new car smell... Tyler... good jeans... Bill's legacy... diet coke... photos... my class... Tyler... time... red wine... tennis shoes... Christmas decorations... homemade cookies... love... Tyler... dental floss on a stick... opportunities... a warm bed... Target... challenges... my career... Tyler... ultra fine Sharpies... support... a super soft sweatshirt... motivation... pre-sliced apples in small bags... TiVO... enthusiasm... and Tyler.
I am so very grateful for the many blessings in my life. Thank you all for still checking on us!
We had a very busy weekend, so I am definitely ready for a 4-day Thanksgiving break. We went from a birthday party to visiting friends and family, and I even bought a new car somewhere in the mix. It was an exciting weekend.
I'd like to think I have always been a "half full" sort person. There has to be some sort of good in every situation... even at rock bottom. Today at my sister-in-law's house I tried to come up with things are not terrible because of this situation. I promised myself I wouldn't focus on anything negative, so I want to preface my list with the fact if i could change any of this, I would... but I obviously can't, so I might as well try to find some good along the way. If something made my "list" then it is safe to say that Bill thought the opposite.
* Decisions are easier when making them alone. I don't have to consult anyone (or hear another person's advice/complaint) on how to discipline, how to do laundry, or where to hang a new picture.
* I don't have to keep a new pair of shoes in my trunk and wait to sneak them in. Although, I still kind of do this, so I guess I am just keeping my skills polished.
* I actually like having the bed to myself (when Tyler is not trying to climb in). I know this seems odd, but it's the truth.
* I don't have to worry about someone else using the ATM card and not telling me about the withdraw... then worry that there will be enough to cover everything and do the mad dash to get online and transfer money.
* I now understand the true meaning of "stress"... I was mistaken when I said that finishing report cards was stressful. Not... even... close...
* I am allowed to put steak knives in the dishwasher.
* I can watch "Friends" reruns every night and fall asleep with the TV on.
* I can wash my whites separately and avoid the muted gray color on everything.
I am reserving the right to add to this list as needed. I can only hope that I will come up with a few more entries.
Happy Thanksgiving!
It has been a crazy week in our household, although that seems to be the norm these days. I gave two trainings at the district office which enables me to see different teachers from a variety of schools. I ran into a teacher I met in my early years at Golden. We happened to pull up and get out of our cars at the same time, so we walked in together. I would guess our walk was all of about 2 minutes. I cannot explain how refreshing it was to have someone come right out and say, "I'm so sorry to hear about your husband... How are you?" She didn't feel the need to do the "head-tilt"* and didn't dance around the elephant in the room. She simply came out and asked... I didn't realize how much I would appreciate such a small gesture, but it was refreshing!
* see previous posts for definition of "head-tilt".
We found out this week that an aide with whom we work lost her husband in August to a massive heart attack. She is just now admitting this to people, which tells me she is just now seeing the fog lift enough to say the words that he is gone. She has 4 kids, a part-time job, and her husband had barely enough life insurance to cover his funeral and pay his debt. My heart aches for her and her children. If I ever needed a sign that I was meant to change schools, this is it. Things work out in mysterious ways, and I hope I can be some sort of help in her unfortunate situation.
I feel validated that Tyler and I are healthy in our healing and can openly talk about "our Dad". The fact that he feels free to ask questions, draw pictures, and look at photos is so precious in the healing process. I can only hope that someday my fellow staff member can say the same.
There are many levels of grief. I could almost hold a checklist and write the date that certain feelings were experienced. The anger, the guilt, the depression, the denial... they all have spent time with me. The last feeling I have has lingered for awhile now...
The acceptance.
Accepting that he is gone... accepting that he is not coming back... accepting that I am single... accepting that I am a different person... accepting that motherhood can (and will) be done alone. I have accepted our new life and all that is tangled in it. Sometimes I wonder if I am ready to fully accept things, but in reality, I do not have a choice IF I am going to or not; I must continue to live my life.
Does acceptance mean I have forgotten, or it doesn't hurt? Far from it. Those two factors do not replace each other. That is the "funny" thing about grief. There are no rules or map to follow, you must navigate it yourself and personally come to terms with acceptance. To quote Merriam-Webster, acceptance is,
to regard as proper, normal, or inevitable; to recognize as true: believeI don't feel I am "actively mourning" anymore, but I know the hole will always be there... in my life and in my heart. I have accepted this, and I know that it has made me a stronger person (how could it not?).
When I sat down to write this post, I had a totally different angle worked out in my head. Interesting how things can take a turn, and the result is far from what was anticipated. I guess life is funny like that...
