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

Saturday, November 16, 2013

Poor Bored and Boring Me


This has been one of those crazy weeks where I wish I’d stayed in my nightgown, found a delivery service to drop off a batch of cream puffs and stayed home from Monday through Friday. Nothing bad happened that involved fire, floods, spilled blood, hospitals or funeral parlors so I should be happy. Right? Life is still good when none of those biggies are penciled in on the day planner. Repeat to myself: “A boring life isn’t such a bad thing.” So if I can’t call my week boring the next best word to describe it would be ‘annoying.’

Monday I was fifteen minutes late for my haircut appointment because I lost track of time while playing on the internet. The stylist had me reschedule for Tuesday because she had a class to go to and she didn’t want to rush my cut. Then I went to the bank, library and the post office which were all closed for Veteran’s Day. Oops! I'm not getting old and forgetful, I told myself as I went off to Burger King where I thought I could indulge in a batch of sinful sweet potatoes fries. Oops, yet again. “That’s a seasonal item,” the speaker woman told me.

While sitting trapped in the take-out window line, I was having a panic attack as I wondered what I’d do if a giant space craft hovered above my end of town and started sucking vehicles up like a huge magnet. How would I escape, trapped like I was? I could abandon the car but I can only walk so fast and I’d probably get trampled by the other panic-stricken people in line who’d also leave their vehicles. Finally, I remembered that I’m a news junkie and if a giant UFO had been coming towards earth all our spy satellites would have seen it approaching and by now Edward Snowden would have leaked that information to the press.

Tuesday I repeated Monday’s agenda minus the panic attack and plus a trip to the gadget zoo at the senior center where I petted and lusted after the iPads, smart phones and tablets. AGAIN. That's three months in a row. How tech savvy does one elderly woman need to be, for crying out loud? I’ve got a desk top and lap top computer that are both fairly new. I’ve got a Kindle, iPod and an old people’s cell phone. Do I really need more tech stuff? Is raw, unadulterated lust a good enough reason to buy more stuff to keep me tethered to the information mongers on earth? If I was my sister-in-law I’d say, “No, that would be cheating my kids out of their inheritance!” But I don’t have kids and my dog only needs so much kibble when I’m gone and he’s already got more toys than he needs. (I’ve been meaning to talk with him about donating some of them to the local humane society. But he’d just point out that I have ‘toys’ that could go to Goodwill so I keep putting that conversation off.)

Wednesday my house cleaning service failed to show up because the girl who was assigned to me got her schedule mixed up. Since I did something similar on Monday I could hardly get mad about the fact that I had to clean my own house this month. (I didn’t want the plumber---this coming Monday---to wade in my yucky-dos when he comes to install my new toilet, shower head and to fix a few leaky faucets.) The cleaning service would have rescheduled someone else to come on Thursday “if I felt comfortable leaving a key” since I couldn’t be home. But I gasped at that though! Leave a key for a total stranger who could steal my stash of Little Miss Debbie Chocolate Cakes, read the junk e-mails and let my dog out to play in traffic? No, way! No thank you! On the good side, cleaning my own house this month gives me an extra $50 that can go in Lust Fund.

Thursday I had to go back to the hearing center in the morning for part two of how to be an old lady with a new set of hearing aids. Then the afternoon was spent manning the front door at the museum where traffic was so low I had enough time to sweep the lobby, fold a box of handouts and read Crazy Cat Lady on my Kindle.

Friday was my Movie and Lunch Club day but they picked a movie I had zero interest in seeing so I opted out in protest for not picking Last Vegas. Not that anyone noticed my protest when I ever so politely emailed my I-can’t-make-it-this-month regrets. But at least Captain Phillips didn’t get my ticket money. (Oh, goodie, more money that can go in my Lust Fund!) Besides, I needed the full day to clean what my cleaning service could have done in two hours.

Today was the only day worth the time it took to shower and get dressed all week. I did the Christmas craft shows tour and lunch with the Red Hat Society ladies. I didn’t buy much but I like looking and it was a pleasant way to spend an overcast morning. Having done the craft show tour last year all by myself after a decade of doing them with my deceased spouse, I looked up what I wrote about the experience a year ago. What a contrast from then and now!  No tears this year, no going home early and no ghost riding shotgun in my car. And this year came with an unspoken promise that friendships can grow---someday, if I live long enough, Downer Debbie is saying in my ear. Don’t be so negative, my Mary Poppins persona is saying in my other ear. Ohmygod, I used to have just one inner voice talking to me! Now I have two?

Back on topic: Life might not be a basket full of good tidings and joy here on Widowhood Lane yet but it could be far worse. After 42 years of being two peas in a pod, two nuts on a squirrel, the hole in your life doesn’t fill in with a couple of years under your belt. You go on. You reach for that happy place again. You might even find it from time to time but, damn it, it’s so boring without the other pea in my pod… ©

11 comments:

  1. Oh I understand your dilemmas! Maybe something is in the air because I've had a similar week. But somehow your words bring a smile to my face!! Good job, Jean!

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  2. Oh, good! I like it when I'm not the only one to experience these things.

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  3. And I vote FOR new technology! I have iPhone and Mac laptop. (Also inherited Ralph's iPad but no real "reason" to have it if you have the other two). My favorite part? They "talk" to each other. I can put my dental appointment on my phone ... and voila! It's on my computer calendar as well.

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  4. Are you decorating your home this year? Are you still in your home, or did you move?

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  5. AW: I just love technology but I keep trying to talk myself out of it.

    Judy: No I didn't more and the longer I stay here the less I want to move. None of the condos I've looked at have the aging in place features my universal design house has and I don't want to give those up. As for decorating, I will probably just put up a couple of wreaths and a large red bow on the door and call it good enough.

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  6. I literally tilted my head and looked skyward when I read about you tardiness to your hair apt. I cannot stand being late, and I'm all a flutter whenever I am. I think it's a thing with our generation. I once waited a half hour for a realtor. I smugly suggested to my husband that she would be young. I was right. No one thinks 15 minutes is late anymore. I need to lighten up, but I fear it it too late.

    What a week you had. My husband is nudging me to get a housekeeper. I'm not the housekeeper I once was. I tend to scurry around and hit the obvious things just before company arrives.

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  7. Bella: I was raised to believe if you're not 15 minutes early, your late. In theory---according to my dad---that left you enough time to change a flat tire along the way or to get a cup of coffee near by your appointment if you traffic was good and you were running ahead of schedule. It's SO unlike me to be late for anything.

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  8. I recently came across your blog and have been reading along. I don't know what to say except that I have enjoyed reading. Nice blog. I will keep visiting this blog very often.

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  9. Golvvard: Welcome and thank you so much for making your presence known!

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  10. Okay, not your main point, I know, but I really got hung up on the sweet potatoes. Sweet potatoes get harvested in October and November, don't they? If sweet potatoes are a "seasonal item," shouldn't this be their season?? (They're everywhere at the farmers markets, and I've been eating so many sweet potatoes that I'm starting to turn orange.) -Jean

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  11. You'd think it would work like that, wouldn't you? But apparently the frozen, processing side of sweet potato fries makes them a summer time seasonal item in Burger King world.

    I discovered the tiny little farmer's market sweet potatoes this year and LOVE, love them!

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