My Weekly Report, Five Days Early

I almost learned the hard way the cars are not like kittens. You can’t wean them! At the gas station today I put $37.72 worth of fuel in my little Malibu and she said, “Thank you but don’t ever try to starve me to death again!” In my defense, she should be blaming the farmer’s market. Since I’ve been going there on Saturdays I don’t need to go to the grocery store every Monday and it’s on those trips when I’d buy gas at the station connected to their parking lot. No groceries, no gas. What can I say? I’m old and set in my ways.

I had a great day today starting out with the weather being as perfect as a summer day in Michigan gets---warm but not humid and sunny with a bright blue sky. Mid morning I took the dog for a walk down the nature trail before dropping him off at his fancy-schmancy groomers. Then I made stops at Starbucks, the pet store, the post office, and the city hall to pay my summer taxes before going to my own haircut appointment. After that I stopped at Lowe’s, the gas station, the dollar store, K-Kmart and Starbucks again before picking the dog back up. I call days like this my Hundred Dollar Days because running this chain of errands always costs that much and even more this time because, sadly, cars really aren’t like kittens. Bummer! In between stops I had the radio turned up full volume and the sun roof open and the sweet smell of summer was on the wind. Like I said, it was a great day and if I’m not mistaken, to top it off an old dude at Lowe’s was flirting with me. It’s been so long I’m not sure.

I also did something today that I haven’t done in twenty years. I ran. Imagine that! It wasn’t a conscious choice but we can blame the William Tell Overture---the Lone Ranger theme song---for it happening. I had downloaded it to my iPod and instead of walking with that fast-paced music before I knew it I was trotting along…all 9.57 minutes of it. Old ladies shouldn’t be doing that! I'd be a damn fool if I ever do it again. I’d chance falling and breaking another bone. But I couldn’t help it; I love that Hans Zimmer 'Finale' version. Listening to it makes me feel young again, like it was just yesterday that I spent Saturday afternoons watching double feature western movies and spent afternoons in between playing cowboys and Indians with my summertime friends at the cottage. I need to work on putting together a “safer” playlist for walking on the trails. Maybe a little Michael Buble` who’s music often makes me glide like one of Frank Sinatra’s showgirls. 

“When marimbas start to play
Hold me close, make me sway
Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore
Hold me close, sway me more.”

Have you seen the panda twins born at the Atlanta Zoo last week? They are newborns in the photo above. Considering how cute they get when they are older, it’s shocking how homely they look as babies. They won’t start getting their characteristic black and white fur until they are around 25 days old. I wish human started out ugly and got cuter as we age instead of in reverse. I’m not a vain person but I bugs me that when the dog gets his fancy-schmancy haircut, he looks like an expensive Steiff teddy bear that everyone wants to hug and sleep with but when I get a haircut I look like---well, like I just got a haircut, ho-hum.  

Why you're jealous of the dog!

“I guess so. Maybe," I tell the anonymous voice in my head. “He's do damn cute! Now go away before people start questioning my mental health.”  ©

The Widow and The Lone Ranger

“I’m living a strange half life.” That’s a line from a movie I saw recently and it was said by a divorced guy about his single-hood. He had a beautiful home, a job he liked and friends but his life lacked spice much like the salt-less broths served in hospitals. That movie line spoke to me and about me. At times I feel like a sailboat with no wind to push me along. If you’re on a sailboat with no wind sometimes it feels good to drift and have an excuse to relax but other times it’s frustrating if you have somewhere to go but you can’t get there. As a widow, I feel like I have somewhere to go but I don’t know where that is and the drifting isn’t helping me discover my destination fast enough. I’m old! I want to be content again.

This week marks my 18^th month as a widow and one more month to go before I’m at the end of the Second Mourning Period (if I was living in Victorian times, that is). In this century we don’t formally recognize the Second Mourning Period, but I strongly believe that custom never should have gone the way of afternoon teas, butterfly collecting and petty coats. Be that as it may, this seems like a good time for me to write a progress report on myself. So here it goes….

My emotions are no longer raw like they were in the first six month of widowhood and even less so than at the year marker. It’s rare, now, that a crying jag will hit me out of the blue. I can even listen to the Prime Country radio station without every other song churning up unbearable memories which most widows know is a big hurdle to cross. Still, I have a few moments on occasion when I choke up like last week when I was cleaning in my closet. I had run across the half dozen shirts of Don’s that I’d saved when I packed up the bulk of his clothes to take to the Salvation Army. But I’m a strong little widow, don’t you know, so last week I bucked it up and added a couple of those shirts to my ‘donate’ pile---but not without regret and sadness that I’ll never see Don wearing them again. If you noted a hint of sarcasm in the way I’ve just characterized myself you’re not mistaken. I am no stronger or weaker than other widows. We are all just in varying places on the grief timeline. All and all, I’m doing well. Don’s ghost no longer seems present in the house which is both sad and probably a healthy sign at the same time.

How am I doing on meeting people, trying to build a circle of friends, which is my biggest challenge in widowhood? Not so good. It’s still hard not to have a sounding board and someone who cares how my day is going. "Volunteer!" so many people told me to do which prompted me to turn in an application to work at a small town museum opening up soon. Unfortunately the time I spent in an arm sling is the time when they moved out of their old, cramped museum and into the new building so I couldn’t help with the move. This week I went to their first organizational meeting regarding a fund raiser auction planned for the fall. Only five people showed up. I had hoped for a group big enough so I’d have a better chance of meshing with one or two others. They tell me more people will show up to help as we get closer to the auction. Oh, well, at least I’m trying.

I’m also still going to the going to events at the senior hall including the monthly Movie and Lunch Club. Today we saw The Lone Ranger. In IMDb’s mini blurb on the movie they wrote, “Native American warrior Tonto recounts the untold tales that transformed John Reid, a man of the law, into a legend of justice” and they labeled it an action adventure western. What they failed to say is the movie is a genuinely funny film. Johnny Depp as Tonto and Armie Hammer as the Lone Ranger were perfect casting and even Silver, the white horse, brought some great laughs from the audience and my group of ten. In the last fifteen minutes of the film, when they finally started playing the William Tell Overture, the Lone Ranger’s theme song from the radio, movies and TV shows of my youth, we were all sitting on the edge of our seats and laughing at the fast-paced action. We left the theater upbeat and in a happy mood. At lunch one of the ladies said she thought you had to be our age to catch a lot of the humor but few of the other ladies agreed with her. But one thing we all did agree on is that this version of The Lone Ranger is well worth seeing, especially if you grew up in the 30’s, 40’s or 50’s when the serialized stories of the Lone Ranger and Tonto were so popular. “Hi-Yo, Silver! Away!” ©