Widow Cams and Spirits in the House

 

Two or three times a day I check in on the panda twins at the Atlanta zoo. Yes, I’m hooked on the panda cam. If I’m lucky I’ll catch the seven month old babies at a time when they aren’t napping up at the top of a climbing structure in their day room. When they are wrestling and pawing at each other they are so adorable and sweet that it’s like eating a bowl full of my favorite flavor of ice cream. If I had an iPad and could take the panda cam wherever I go, I’d probably lose a few pounds. No more comfort food, I’d just watch the pandas instead. Of course along with the cute stuff we cam fans see the pandas do mundane things like pee, poop, eat and drink water and that got me to thinking about what it would be like if they had widow cams trained on we humans. And maybe “they” do….

In the widow’s memoir I’m reading now she tells about getting a complimentary tarot-card reading at a Mardi Gras party in her first year of her widowhood that made a believer out of her---that “they” are watching us. The tarot reader told her that her husband’s spirit was still around her every day and that her youngest child could see him. The widow hadn’t told a living soul that her toddler was still talking to her dad, as if he was in the room. She’d say things like, “Hi Daddy!” and “Daddy is on the ceiling!” and the widow was thinking there was something wrong with the child so she was afraid to talk to anyone about it. Most widows, including myself, will admit to feeling like there is a spirit around us in the early months following their spouse’s death but I’ve read nothing as dramatic as this widow’s experience. She went on to say she’d seen other mediums after that, but thought there were too many bad ones out there. So don’t go wasting your money trying to find the good, needle-in-the-haystack medium that might actually be in tune with the spirits, if there is such a thing.

As much as we might have loved our spouses---and of course not all widows can say that but for those of us who can, I wonder if I’m the only one who finds it a little unsettling that my life could be in full view of spirits I may or may not know…not unlike voyeurs who watch the panda and other animal cams around the earth. Do they see me poop and pee? Do they see me when I don’t get dressed until noon or skip taking a shower because I have no place to go that day? Or worse yet do they see me in the shower with all my flaws in full view? Are we widows like The Truman Show to the spirits? “Hey, come see what my wife is up today! Can you believe she’s doing that?”

A few days before I read the above mentioned tarot-card incident I had one of those mysterious things happen that made me wonder if there was a ghost in the house. I had been working on the computer, which is in a large wardrobe in my breakfast nook and I had been walking around the kitchen getting breakfast and pills, feeding the dog, making coffee etc., before settling down at the computer. The flooring is light colored and if there had been something on the floor I couldn’t have missed it. So imagine my surprise when I glanced across the room and right in the middle of the area where I’d been walking back and forth, was a dried oak leaf! If the dog had been outside I might have thought it came in on his long, schnauzer beard but he hadn’t been outside since the night before plus there is two foot of snow covering the landscape. My monthly cleaning lady vacuums and mops all the floors so it couldn’t have been hiding in a corner since fall. Nope, I could not solve the mystery of where it came from nor could I decide---if it was another ghost game---what the heck was my husband trying to tell me this time? Then I read the tarot-card incident and I wondered if it somehow tied into the oak leaf mystery, like my ghost of a husband was trying to tell me to pay attention to the signs and so-call coincidences all around me.

Because I google everything under the sun, I googled “oak tree+symbolism” and the first thing I came across was at Wikipedia: “To the Druids, the oak represented doorways to other realms — it was believed to provide protection and shelter when passing through to other realms. It was considered the giver of great powers and was most exalted of all trees by the Druids. Their most spiritual places were in oak groves.” My husband was of Irish descent, from an area known to have been inhabited by ancient Druids and Celtic people. Knowing my husband was proud of his Irish heritage and reading “doorways to other realms” gave me chills. Could the leaf's appearance be another sign?  And if that were true then we very well might be starring in live color on ‘widow cams for the dead' which is __________ <pick your own word to fill in this blank, I can't come up with one right now!> Creepy? Comforting? Unsettling? Pleasing? Scary? Not a surprise? Making me want to shower with my clothes on! ©

Blinders, Isolation and Needing Help

 

A friend of mine is in the hospital recuperating from back surgery. He’s dealt with pain for many years and finally he decided to bite the bullet and do something about it. His doctor told him he’d be up walking and back home the next day. At least that is what my friend heard the doctor say. Whether or not that’s what he actually said is anyone’s guess. There’s a reason why they tell you to bring someone along when you talk to a surgeon. I’m guessing my friend heard the best case scenario and let the rest go right over his head. It’s been a week now and my friend is in a rehab hospital, fighting mad and angry at the doctor for “lying to him.” When I asked him if his pain is any less than it was before the surgery he says it is, and they don’t have him on any pain medications to explain the change, but he still claims he wishes he hadn’t gone through with the whole thing. And this is coming from a guy who is usually pretty logical. He hates hospitals, having spent many, many months in one as a kid, and I’m afraid he’s letting his anger at having to stay in one now keep him from getting the most out of rehab. Why is it so easy to see what others are doing wrong but when it comes to ourselves, we have blinders on?

My friend’s situation made me wonder what parts of my own life I wear blinders in, where things aren’t really the way I think they are. There are probably others, but I’ve narrowed down the main issues in my life where that is happening to my feelings of isolation and worrying about not having back up in an emergency---both common widow and old people woes. But when I’m forced to be honest with myself I have to acknowledge that I have nieces and nephews on both sides of the family, and one very close friend, who would help me in a worst case scenario. I’m the problem. The classic, “it’s me, not them” because I’m the one who is too proud to ask for help should I need it. I’m so used to handling everything that life can throw at me that it feels like weakness or signs of aging that I might not be able to get myself out of any given situation. When my husband was alive we were each other's back up until his stroke. Even after that I didn’t feel weak or old when people helped us in the months after that catastrophic event. In my mind they were helping him, the social butterfly the favorite uncle. False impressions are hard to let go. They were helping us both---the bookends, the matched set.

As for feelings of isolation, on the rare occasions when I call a relative and suggest an outing they seem happy that I asked. And I’ll bet most people can say the same thing about their family. One of my favorite sayings when people complain that no one in their family ever calls them is, “The phone lines run in both directions.” (And, boy, that saying is getting dated fast with cellphones taking over the world.) So why do I sometimes get overwhelmed with feelings of isolation? I don’t blame other people for those feelings. I blame myself for not picking up the phone. With family, part of the issue is we know what is going on in their busy lives and we don’t want to bother them. At least that is true for me. Nieces and nephews are the filling in The Sandwich---the ones with kids and parents, and in some case even grandchildren and grandparents, all vying for their time. I never had kids or grand-kids but I sure know what it’s like to have parents that need help. Been there, done that. The Sandwich Generation have a lot on their plates.

So instead of curing my isolation with those I care the most about, I try to fill my time up with acquaintances at the senior hall and Red Hat Society ---places where you could fall off the face of the earth and no one would notice except for your name printed in the ‘send prayers’ column of the newsletters. The very first person who made me feel welcome at the senior hall's Movie and Lunch Club, shortly after Don passed away, died this winter from complications from a minor surgery. Life is short. The reminders of that are everywhere where old people gather. And maybe that explains why we all have a good time together but we don’t really make much of an effort to take it to the next level and form closer friendships? Nope, most of the people I’ve met at the senior hall and Red Hats seem content to just be widows and/or seniors looking for group fun and my new favorite word, “enrichment.”

I’ve been having trouble finding an ending for this post and before I knew it I had a chocolate pudding in my hand…not the kind that comes in little plastic tubs. No, this pudding was homemade and filled a footed, antique goblet which makes it harder to overlook the calories you just consumed. Why? Because you can’t put the goblets in the dish washer, so as you’re washing them by hand you have time to think about how the pudding became a comfort food in the first place. I love chocolate pudding and the memories that goes with eating it out of the same, sentimental dish my mom used for pudding. Most of the time those goblets sit in the cupboard waiting to be needed and that grounds me to a happier, carefree time in my life. And despite wearing blinders from time to time, I know my family will also be there if I need a different kind of comfort or help. I should get that tattooed on my arm so I don’t forget. Maybe just a discreet little, “They Care” would do the trick.  ©

Birds, Dogs and a Widow's Book

 

I’ve started reading a book by a fellow widow blogger. Her husband died after spending three days in ICU following a stroke caused by a motorcycle accident. I thought I was far enough out from Don’s passing that this sort of reading---stroke and ICU details---wouldn’t bother me, but now I’m not so sure it was a good book choice for me. I ended up taking a sleeping pill last night because I couldn’t turn my thoughts off after reading just two chapters. She’s a good writer, though, so I’ll stick with the book. For now. If it gets too hard, I’ll move on. I had originally thought that because she was widowed young in life with three small children, we wouldn’t have a lot in common---I didn’t know about the stroke part when I bought the book. Research, woman! I should have done my research.

Friday I was supposed to meet my Movie and Lunch Club to see Monuments Men, a film I really want to see. So I was bummed out when the weather station was predicting blowing snow on top of icy roads. Chicken that I've become about winter driving, that morning I made the judgment call not to go and it was a good thing that I did. By afternoon they were warning people to stay off the roads and by night they were calling it the worst day of the entire winter season in terms of roll-over accidents, slide-offs, intersection accidents and pile-ups on the expressway. The roads were treacherous!

On the home front, Friday was just plain weird---what was going on with the neighborhood wildlife. The back 50 foot of the lots on my side of street are what the developer called a wildlife track. I own my 50 feet, as do my neighbors, but the 50 foot wide, block long track was left in its raw state with trees or meadow-like undergrowth and no landscaping. That gives the wildlife a place to travel back and forth to a small, virgin lake leading to a golf course, a couple of riverside parks, and eventually connecting to nature trails that go on for miles. Having a schnauzer in the house that, by ancestral instinct, thinks it’s his job to chase small ‘varmint’ he’s like an alarm bell whenever a squirrel, rabbit or other four-legged creature comes along. And Friday it was like Grand Central Station back there. I’d never seen anything like it. All day long, in the blowing snow the squirrels and rabbits went back and forth, dipping into yards to raid bird feeders. Since my feeders are the only ones without baffles my house was a popular pit stop and the competition was fierce. Even the birds were feeding in the blowing snow which is very rare around here for ANY wildlife to be out during a storm. I thought  maybe an even worst storm must have been on the way, or maybe the world was coming to an end. If there had been a pan of brownies in the house, I would have followed suit and eaten them all. Why die without chocolate coursing through your veins?

With all the activity going out back, I pulled a chair up to a back window and held the dog on my lap for a long time, thinking it was the perfect time to try to teach him the difference between squirrels and rabbits. Squirrels he’s allowed to bark at, but not the rabbits. So it was back to obedience 101 and lessons on ‘settling.’ The ‘settle’ command is a useful command to teach the Fido's of the world. It involves holding your barking dog on your lap and tightly wrapping your arms around him or her while giving the ‘settle’ command. When the barking stops, you lighten your hold, when the barking starts in again, you tighten the hold and give the command again. The goal is to eventually get your dog to be able to settle themselves with just the command. Settling is also useful for dogs that tremble during storms, etc. It teaches them that they can calm themselves when they get scared. Technically, Levi is too big at 27 pounds to be a lap dog, but when he needs to settle himself down he’ll come lean against my legs so I can give him a few reassuring pats. He’s supposed to be able to settle himself where ever he’s at but I obviously didn’t work on that part long enough. Maybe I should work on teaching myself the ‘settle’ command as I continue reading the above mentioned book? But then again it would be hard to wrap my arms around myself and read at the same time.

This winter I’ve had the strangest woodpecker coming to my feeders and he was also here during the snow storm. He’s got the body markings, coloring and black throat of a Northern Flicker but his head is almost a solid red like the Redheaded Woodpecker. (See photos above.) He’s as fat as a mourning dove, a big guy who likes the seed and suet cakes and he’s very camera shy. It sounds like I’m writing a profile for eHarmony Match, doesn’t it. Loves long afternoon flights, drumming on trees and sunflower seeds. This handsome bird is seeking a life partner to share sunsets, insects and migratory trips. If anyone knows what kind of woodpecker he is, please let me know. It’s driving me crazy that I can’t find him in the bird identification books. And it bothers me even more that I care so much about identifying his sub-species, given the fact that I used to make fun of old people and their birds. Feel free to laugh at me. What goes around, comes around. Oops! ©

That object in the center of the snow drift is the post of my 3 foot high fence.