The Gifts This Widow Gives herself

Have you ever researched something online, then for the next few weeks everywhere you go on the internet that product pops up in a sidebar or banner across the top? Right now I’m dealing with the reappearing toilet ads and to make them disappear I have to find something else to research. What should it be? Thrill seekers vacation packages? Serenity retreats in Tibet? Spanx undergarments? Anything to get rid of the Toto toilet ads!

I went out to our trusty plumbing shop this week and ordered a new ADA toilet. “Big deal,” you’re saying, “what does that have to do with widowhood?” Actually, quite a lot in my case. You see, for the past twelve years of Don’s life we had a potty chair over a low toilet because that’s the combination that gave my right-side paralyzed husband the most independence when it came to butt wiping. It took an hour appointment with an occupational therapist to figure that one out, but I like the height of the potty chair so I kept on using after his passing. Then the seat broke and they won’t let you just order a new one, you have to buy a whole new potty chair. It seemed silly to put $150 into a potty chair when I could use that towards a real ADA toilet that is costing me $340 plus labor to install it. Little by little the reminders of my spouse are drifting away. Don’t get me wrong. I won’t miss the ugly potty chair but replacing it is still a sad reminder that my life will never be the same with Don gone from my world. <big sigh here>

The Red Hat Society business meeting tea was my Wednesday outing. We each signed 80 Christmas cards for the shoeboxes full of goodies we’ll be putting together next month for homeless vets and residents at our adopted nursing home. We also chit-chatted about past fun and future plans. Somewhere in the conversation a lady made a comment to me that I should write a book. And dumb me, I outed myself by saying, “Oh, I already have.” Long story short, one of the other ladies e-mailed me several hours later to say she found my books online and ordered them both. My “secret life” won’t be so secret after she reads them. What’s the worst that could happened? No one will want to sit next to me unless I sign a pledge of confidentiality? They’ll ask me to drop out of the group because they can’t trust me not to write about them next? See, I told you I’m a worry-wart. I’m actually quite careful not to use people’s names when I blog/write because I do value other people’s expectations of privacy when they are in social situations.

This week I also got the test results back on my bi-yearly checkup---I’m going to live!---and except for a thyroid issue we’ll have to deal with I’m doing fine. Changing the way I eat has made a big difference in my blood work. Under protest I got a breast exam, too, which turned out fine as I knew it would. Also this week, my antique booth got a quick overhaul. The last time I was there I put my notice in that I’ll be moving out at the end of the month. The whole booth is now marked down to 50% and sales should be good through Thanksgiving. If I had any brains I would be moving out after Christmas but I don’t want to drive that far out of town in snow season so I’m letting commonsense rule over greed.

Today I volunteered at the museum where I spent a boring afternoon with the director of the place. He’s not boring---quite the contrary---but there was very little traffic coming in and that’s not likely to change until next spring except for an occasional Boy Scouts troop and other school aged group tours. One of these days I’m going to volunteer to be there when they are scheduled but I’m almost afraid to do it for fear I’ll get bit by the bug to do it again. It's kind of fun to play with the Lincoln logs in the kiddie corner.

The second anniversary of Don’s passing comes the middle of January and my holiday season in between now and then sure is lining up differently this year. Last year, there were no parties or social engagements, nothing to look forward to but the dark side of grief. Not that I would have felt like partying last year but by contrast I can see the fruits of my efforts to build friendships the past 4-5 months. I still won’t have any place to go on the actually holidays, but there are plenty of other parties in my day planner starting next Saturday with a purse party. Don’t ask me what that is. All I know is I said, “yes,” when the invitation came in to our Red Hat chapter. ©