Welcome to the Misadventures of Widowhood blog!
In January of 2012 my soul mate of 42 years passed away after nearly 12 years of living with severe disabilities due to a stroke. I survived the first year after Don’s death doing what most widows do---trying to make sense of my world turned upside down. The pain and heartache of loss, my dark humor, my sweetest memories and, yes, even my pity parties are well documented in this blog.
Now that I’m a "seasoned widow" the focus of my writing has changed. I’m still a widow looking through that lens but I’m also a woman searching for contentment, friends and a voice in my restless world. Some people say I have a quirky sense of humor that shows up from time to time in this blog. Others say I make some keen observations about life and growing older. I say I just write about whatever passes through my days---the good, bad and the double-ass ugly. Comments welcome! Jean
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
For our homework assignment we have to use a metaphor to explore something we are struggling with---aging, retiring, that sort of thing. I knew I wanted to write about widowhood and the word ‘vacuum’ popped in my head. From there, my metaphor wrote itself: Widowhood is a vacuum sucking tin soldiers off the floor, swirling them around in a dark void while other tiny souls still in its path of wrath struggle to pull its life-line from the wall. I’m going to like the class but time will tell if I’ll have the guts to read my assignments out loud in front of the others. It’s not required that we do. I’ll wait to hear what others have written before I decide if I want to be critiqued in a room full of would-be writers and poets. ©
NOTE: I'm not as dark and depressed as that metaphor sounds. It was just a writing assignment and I was going with the word image/figurative language of relating widowhood to a vacuum. Originally, I was thinking about widowhood as creating a vacuum in my life that needs filling but the metaphor took me in a different direction.
Sunday, September 7, 2014
This story came out of my memory vault today because I was trying to come up with a theme to write about for one of my infamous (and usually tongue-in-cheek) “Sunday Sermons.” I had goggled ‘inspirational topics’ but I couldn’t get in the mood for serious thought that might come off sounding preachy if I didn’t write it right. Then I goggled ‘Toastmasters Club topics’ and---bingo---there, I found a suggestion to pull something out of your past that changed your life and work your speech around that memory. One thought led to another and I got to wondering if I had told Don the truth that first night we met---that I worked in the floral industry---would my life have turned out differently? He might not have been intrigued enough without my “unusual career” to keep coming back. He certainly wouldn’t have been kidded unmercifully by his co-workers for being bested by a woman. The King of Bullshit lost his crown! We've gotta meet this girl!