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 ugly. Comments welcome and encouraged. Let's get a dialogue going! Jean
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Not Like Other Widows
I don’t mean to sound cranky when I compare myself to other widows. I know I’m at an advantage---if you can call what Don and I went through in the first few years after his stroke an advantage. But in this situation it is an advantage in the sense that I’d already mourned the loss of things like in depth conversations, the feel of Don’s full body hugs, and having someone to share household responsibilities with. I went through the emotional roller coast of having to downsize my husband’s work and hobby lives. I also went through the financial cash-flow issues of having to sell houses and cars to make way for a new chapter of life. All these common “widow woes” I’ve faced and I came out the other side stronger.
By comparisons, most of other widows I’ve met make me feel like Mary Poppins and when they find out I’m a woman who still measures her widowhood in days, not months like most of them, they are shocked. It makes me nervous. Am I in denial? No, I don’t think so. But then again do people in denial actually know they are? When I go to their chat room, listen to them lament this or that it’s like hearing an echo from the past. The spousal caregiver’s mourning period really was like having training wheels on the bicycle for this final loss. Why do I keep going? That’s a question I’ve asked myself several times. And a comment I heard last night might be a reason. A woman said she thought I should give classes in how to move forward and another woman replied, “I think that’s what she’s doing now.” Perhaps I hang around because the community has become my new set of training wheels to help me transfer from being a full time caregiver to not being needed anymore. ©