The Hardest Part of Being a Widow Update

I once wrote a post titled "The Hardest Part of Being A Widow," which for me involves attending the numerous athletic, music and school activities of my sons' on my own. Last night was the 14th District Wide Band or Orchestra concert I attended on my own but this time there wasn't any moping or feeling sorry for myself. There was a huge sense of pride at my son and for myself as well.

The concert includes all the kids in the district (600) involved in either band or orchestra (separate concerts) from 4th-12th grades. Each level plays a couple songs on their own and then they all join together for a finale. The point is to show the parents and kids, especially the younger ones, where they'll end up if they continue all the way through.

I remember the first one I attended when my oldest was a beginning sax player and being blown away hearing the top high school band. Last night my son played in that top band. I heard the reaction of some of the parents around me with younger children and it was the same I had 8 years ago - awe at the quality and talent of the kids playing and hope that one day our own children would be part of that group. There were actually intakes of breath after the top band performed.

Almost a magical twist of fate that yesterday my son received his acceptance letter from the #1 college of his choice known for its excellent program in criminal justice as well as its music program (the two areas of study he has chosen). There weren't any tears in my eyes at the concert, just a huge surge of pride as I saw my tall, handsome son in his tux. I looked at the youngest kids imagining his own progression (as well as mine) through the past years. We did it! We made it! I successfully raised the boys into fine young caring men and they grew into mature teens on their own merits besides. It hasn't been easy. In fact, I would venture to say at times it has been hell and torture but last night, the bad stuff took a back seat to the joy and happiness I felt.

My husband never saw one of these concerts. When my sons were younger and he was still alive, he was in the hospital at the times these concerts occurred. I marveled a little that I was the sole parent of the boys attending these mega concerts all these years. And felt sadness that my husband had missed them...

An older gentleman asked me where the concert was as he entered the high school. I directed him to the gym adding that it was the 14th and final concert I would be attending! He smiled and replied, "That's what you think," and I assume he meant that there will be more concerts in college or with future grandchildren.

In the past, I have looked around me at all the intact families surrounding me on the bleachers and have just felt sadness, resentment, envy and pain that I have been alone holding up the household and being an only parent. But there was none of that last night. It was a celebration of how far we have come and the pure and simple fact that in the end we made it.

The finale was Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" and all I could think of was how significant this was too - they used to end with "Let's Go Band." There was joy last night in my soul and spirit. So if there is any silver lining to the road of widowhood, it would be for me, the knowledge that I did survive in the end and that the boys became good decent young men. Young men my husband would be tremendously proud of. Maybe even better men in some ways because of the trials they have faced.

I have griped about these district music concerts for years - once in a pretty bad snow storm we got stuck in the snow trying to get to the concert. But last night it was bittersweet that it was the last one I would ever attend with a son performing. Endings are bittersweet but I see on the horizon so much awaiting my son as he starts his college years, with my youngest ready to take those steps in another year.

I wish that there had been a magic ball in which I could have looked into so many years ago. To where I would have seen the happy and successful outcome that finally arrived. But I wouldn't have believed it anyway.

A Christmas Carol

Today my sons and I went into Chicago to see A Christmas Carol at the famed Goodman Theatre. The tickets were paid for by my brother. He and the rest of my sibs and their families have a tradition of doing something like this on this day. In the past, I've declined going due to finances. This year when my brother inquired if we would be able to attend, I just admitted I would be unable to afford the cost of the tickets and he offered to pick them up. Before, I may have declined but this year I accepted thinking about how long it has been since my sons and I have been to a show. When my husband was alive, taking in a show like this in the city with and without the boys was a regular activity in our lives. So I did this today for my sons - to give them something I can't right now.

The sold-out production was incredible! The sets and special effects alone were outstanding. Yes, this was a rare and special treat. Yet at the same time I struggled emotionally throughout the day. Taking the train into the city, I was struck by the suburban girls of our town, a group of which rode in with us for a fun day of shopping and chatting. They all held piping hot cups of Starbucks and I had to hold back my feelings of envy as I thought back to my last Starbucks, which was one year ago! The girls were Juniors and my youngest son blushed throughout the ride as they waved to him and said, hello. He did his best to hide on the train...

We are down to our last $20.00 before payday (Wednesday) and that went for the train tickets. Knowing we wouldn't have money to spend on food in Chicago I packed PB & J sandwiches, apples and some cinnamon pretzels I'd baked for breakfast and we ate on the train. My car is on empty and the van is low - the pantry is pretty bare. The next few days are going to be tough.

I haven't been into Chicago for about two years and getting into the station and being accosted by all the fancy food stalls did hit me. But the decorations in the station alone were delightful and I tried to enjoy them. No money for a cab so walking - but that is okay. It is just nice to know you have the funds available if you want to grab a cab. We met my brother at a cute restaurant and again, I felt sadness at not being able to afford even a drink for the boys. There was a huge sign advertising a new sandwich at Corner Bakery and I have to say I almost drooled over it (food has kind of become an obsession in my life as of late).

Leaving my family to hurry (run is more like it) to catch the earlier train back, I felt a bit more sadness that it is likely they are all going out to dinner together somewhere, while the boys and I returned home to leftover 4-Bean Chili over spaghetti. I had a migraine on the way home and was pretty miserable. Probably a combination of not eating enough, emotional tension and the mad dash to the station. I tried to block out the images of the intact families I saw on the train, especially all the moms chatting on their cells as to where their families are headed for their holiday vacations. I just reminded myself - "Don't compare yourself to them - you're not one of them anymore." It is good to get out and about in the world but the solitude of widowhood does also serve the purpose of insulation from the pain of life's discrepancies.

The message of A Christmas Carol is of course the timeless one that in the end, friendship, family, love, kindness and generosity are more important than wealth and money. Yet despite this message, this day was so full of contradictions and struggling with my situation. I think that for me I have dealt with my widowhood as best I can and pretty well. The real hardship for me has been the challenges I've faced being a poor one. There is the bizarre contradiction of being able to attend a show like this but then to have to use our last funds for the train tickets to get there. It sometimes feels like I have my feet in two different countries - the one of former suburban mom because I still am living in the community and that of widow living under extremely reduced circumstances.

Afterthought - I hope my depictions of financial struggle do not cause anyone discomfort. This blog is my way to honestly and openly deal with the struggles I have had to unfortunately face as a widow. We will make it through the next days, we always do. I do hope to someday in someway better convey to our society the difficulties some only parents face after being struck by tragedy. I have to keep in mind those in our nation suffering more than we are and to be thankful for the roof over our heads and the fact that we even have 4-Bean Chili to eat. There are always those suffering more than we and today I pray for them. Charles Dickens wrote A Christmas Carol to better depict the plight of the poor during his time. I reflect on my oldest who recently bought the homeless man he passed dinner. Despite our hardship, he reached out and gave to someone more in need. Maybe that is what we all need to concentrate on during this season.

Poor Mom's Chili Soup for when there is nothing left in the pantry

4 Different cans of beans, don't drain (black, pinto, kidney, etc.)
1 can chicken broth
1 -2 cans chopped tomatoes (I use the ones with green chilies)
1 packet chili seasoning
1 -2 T. chocolate chips or grated chocolate

Heat, simmer and serve over rice or noodles, topped with cheese and sour cream

Makes a ton!

Envy Update

I've been doing some online research on that dreaded topic, ENVY. This is what I've come up with so far.

- Envy is related to wanting something you don't have, whereas, jealousy has more to do with taking something that isn't yours or having to give up something.

- Envy is considered a very negative trait and that is why it is hard to openly discuss. People are very uncomfortable admitting feeling envious and those who do face criticism.

- But it is a very common and normal reaction in grief or otherwise.

- In relation to the "Stages of Grief," envy is tied in with anger, which is the second stage (although today, the order of the stages isn't considered as important and it is acknowledged that they can be mixed and matched, and returned to time and time again.)

- A grieving person tends to be envious when they feel they have been wronged through no fault of their own. They also tend to feel powerless in regard to turning their lives around.

- Interesting enough, a person usually is most envious of people they identify with and are similar to (in my case middle-aged, middle-class moms).

- Also, what is usually the object of the person's envy is that which the person holds most dear to them (in my case marriage and a husband/intact family).

- Although I came across numerous references to envy being a part of the grieving process, there were very few recommendations for how to work through the emotion - except strongly worded references saying how bad it is to be envious. Suggestions I did find are related below.

- You can't just tell a person to stop being envious. Doesn't work.

- What does work is for the person to fully experience the emotions behind the envy vs. stuffing the feelings or denying them. That means staying with the feelings when they take over and to try and understand where they are coming from and why.

- Once a person has an idea of why they are feeling envious and about what, ways to manage the envy include diverting your thoughts to another topic (changing the subject). Also, and this one made a lot of sense to me, when the feelings overtake you, to start thinking about your personal strengths, successes, etc.

There is another football game on Friday so I'll see how I feel sitting in the stands with my lonesome. It'll still be hard - I'm not expecting the envy to just go away. But I tell you I will be holding my head up and will not be down on myself for feeling envious for what I long for and so dearly miss and have been missing for many years now, simply because the cancer hands of fate took my husband away from me and my boys.

To Those Living in the Light

I continue to reflect on the fact that I have been comparing myself and my life to that of others, who have it seemingly better. I read that we tend to do this when our lives are in the pits and I would agree with that - when times are especially challenging and hope is at a minimum, fear rampant. I've tried to take all the recent comments received and think on them with positive intent. But I continue to believe that life situations, problems and so on can be rated. I guess I am curious as to why when we live in a society that consantly "rates" events and things, that it is somehow so awful to compare yourself with others who have led less complicated and sorrowful lives. We rate and classify our driving insurance premiums, our weight, our blood pressure, heath, credit ratings, grades in school, academic as well as sporting ability, and looks., etc. Many of these "ratings" are beyond our control. So are some of the things that happen to us and befall our lives like the big "D."

And there are differences in situations and levels of grief. I don't think it is necessarily a bad thing to admit this. It is an observation, not a contest. An observation that yes, we look at the death of someone who dies at age 90 having lived a very full life differently from that of a person of 25 who dies. Death is crummy either way but I feel safe to say that it is significantly more sad for the 25 year old and their family.

Many of you wrote that comparisons serve no real purpose. In thinking about that I would say that one of the purposes they do serve is to hurt the person making the comparisons. The flash of envy I feel for the baseball mom pulling up in her Lexus doesn't pain her, but it does send a stab of hurt into me. I have determined that maybe some of the reasons I constantly set out my list of woes is to reassure myself that it isn't and hasn't been all my fault. My comparisons are in a lopsided way a kind of last ditch effort to make myself feel less to blame for what I've had to experience if that makes any sense. It makes me feel less of a failure and that I am a "bad" person deserving of having a husband who died and another who cruelly left me. Maybe pointing my finger at someone more fortunate serves some sort of survival purpose for me because I do believe that we engage in behaviors that at their core serve some value even if it may not seem that way to others.

Anger, resentment, frustration and even rage are all normal reactions to life stressors and grief. My problem is that I currently lack the skills to transfer those powerful emotions into something more constructive and healing. I can't just snap my fingers and stop feeling envy. I can be conscious of it when I feel that way and try to divert my focus elsewhere when it happens but it just doesn't happen immediately. The grief self-help books out there all acknowledge the reality of our emotions but I have not found any with step-by-step suggestions on how to "work on" these issues when they loom up out of control. And in this case, are my feelings really that abhorrent or deviant when the entire situation is taken into consideration? For a rough period of time when finances were stretched to the limit and I was in the constant company of the "Baseball Moms," I indulged in some comparisons and self-pity. I didn't neglect my sons, I was out there cheering the team and doing my best to stumble forward. I didn't yell at anyone or emit insults. I quitely obeserved, obsessed and was sad. Now the tide will slowly turn and I'll try to grapple with this issue to be able to more constructively move on.

What is ending up bothering me the most now that all the dust is settling, is that those of us truly suffering with a huge amount on our plates of bad stuff, are supposed to be somehow more virtuous than others. I'm supposed to act and feel normally and not make any waves. I'm supposed to be able to rise above the pettiness and jealousy accepted as a matter of course in other people's behavior.

One of the reason I continue these reflections is to give a voice to those out there suffering beyond the initial loss of a death - those struggling with other conflicts and hardships - multiple layers of grief and loss that stretch out the traditional mourning period for many years. That is a factor in all of this. Years of grief is wearying and tiresome. Strength and hope become buried and lost. To be grieving and hit with another bombshell and then another ends up with its own set of consequences. Bereavement becomes a bit more complicated, drawn out and frustrating. Especially when life keeps plunging downward instead of improving.

The Rabbi Pesach Krauss advises in "Why Me? Coping With Grief, Loss And Change" that it is futile to tell people what they're doing wrong when they are in the midst of feeling grief and despair. They will not be able to accept or process any advice. The key is to provide sympathy such as "I hear your frustration and upset in regard to the unfairness of life. And I know you are dealing with these painful feelings in an effort to get through and beyond them." He also believes that there are those of us who will reach for the light and those of us who will get buried in our bitterness, pain and hurt. I admire the great many of you who are valiantly moving toward and living in the light. The jury is still out on which direction I'm going to end up.

Ongoing Musings About Change

I don't think I adapt well to change - I've always resisted it and I'm not one who does well handling problems on their own. So for someone who has been forced to go it alone and had to face so much change not out of choice but out of necessity, yes, where I am right now is to look around me and put my hands up in frustration and defeat. Is this a stage of grief? It is not denial but a combination of rage and envy at the unfairness of life. How does someone work themselves out of this mindset? I can't just stop it or will it away. I have to work painfully through it.

I would be in a far different place if my husband had provided enough life insurance to pay off the house. But that wasn't my reality. Instead my reality is that I lost pretty much everything - my husband, my identity, my retirement, my security, my house, my financial resources, my place in the community, my entire world and life as I knew it. Again, I go back to the if we'd had enough life insurance. I wouldn't have lost my home, finances and so on. Those losses are just in addition to the main one of losing my husband, life partner, lover, friend and co-parent.

I feel like over the years I've lost pretty much everything with the exception of my health and the boys. That is a lot of loss and what I term as multiple losses and/or secondary grief losses. Some widows don't have to face financial destitution and I suppose there are others who are worse off than I am. But all I know is what I am dealing with and facing both past and present. I feel I have been stripped bare of everything that was a constant and known factor in my life. And I haven't done well going on and trying to pick up the pieces. Some of us aren't good in a crisis and lack survival skills or life skills or whatever you want to call them.

I've lost everything, I'm struggling to change, fit in, adapt and do the best I can raising two boys on my own. Am I supposed to go through life with blinders on oblivious to the fact that life isn't fair and others have far less of a hard time of it than I? I've always believed that there is both good and bad in the world and that somehow it all gets distributed evenly throughout one's life. But over the past seven years life has been so challenging I don't believe in the good much anymore. I am paranoid that evil and doom lurk behind every corner. The hope in my heart is dried up.

I believe that my attitude is based on how much loss I've had and how deeply it has cut into my soul. This is a perspective from someone who has faced significant loss (death of husband, divorce by second husband, major illness of younger son, death of mother, loss of home, loss of financial stability, loss of familial support, loss of boyfriend to move out-of-state). Those losses, and resulting stress and change are vastly different from that faced by say a 60-year-old woman with grown children and sufficient financial resources to stay in her home and live comfortably. I interacted with such a woman recently in the baseball stands, and while I was sympathetic to the loss of her husband, I had difficulty relating to her life otherwise. She didn't have to raise her kids singlehandedly.

I can't go through the rest of my life with blinders on blocking out the lives of others. So somehow I'll have to come to terms with all of this. And I hope to gain further insight into how those of us dealing with ongoing adversity after loss learn to deal with and cope with the aftershocks of grief. But in the meantime I don't apologize for feeling the way I do. Surely there has to be someone else out there who has struggled with this in the past or present.

Upheaval

This is an extension to my earlier post. Just the other day I was reading a novel (Big Stone Gap by Adriana Trigiani) in which the main character faces the death of her mom and moving from her home. The author mentioned how these two events are at the top of life stressors. Reading this was interesting to me because I had been contemplating this very issue. I will use the example of the annoying baseball mom and the hypothetical issue of her caring for her parents. In real life her dad attends all the games and both parents are spry and chipper. But for the sake of an example I'll alter the situation so she is caring for elderly, sick, feeble-minded parents.

On its face, of course this is a difficult and trying situation. Many of us baby boomers are involved in this aspect of life. But it is generally easier (physically and emotionally) for a married woman to be involved in this task compared to a widowed mom with young kids as I was when I was involved with caregiving. So it is not the sad aspect of the situation that is different (caring for aging parents) but rather the circumstances surrounding that situation.

When I look at other people's lives what hits me is not that they don't have to face problems or grief, but rather that they haven't had to deal with so much upheaval in their lives. Perhaps that is where the difference lies. And it ends up having nothing to do with problems or grief but rather the upheavals surrounding difficulty.

The upheaval surrouding the death of a spouse and being left with children to raise alone affects so many aspects and areas of one's life, I don't have a short and sweet way to describe it. You are thrown into a tailspin, left reeling, spinning and dizzy, yet expected to get up, dust yourself off and bravely march forward. That is upheaval. Moving from a large home and into an apartment, selling a home to avoid foreclosure, packing and sorting and tossing all by oneself with no one to lean on is upheaval. Example baseball mom didn't lose a spouse and spend the next set of years raising kids alone. Nor was she forced to leave her home.

Yes, she experienced the normal range of daily annoyances we all do but she had the support of her husband next to her. So in the end it is easier for her to cope, deal with and face the issue of her aging parents. She has more energy and resolve because there has been less upheaval in her life.

The definition of upheaval is great agitation and change. When I look around me at the other women in my community, I don't see any who have moved or had to cope with the death of their spouse. Those are events of such magnitude, agitation and change. I think that is where my frustration has been lying. That the seesaw is so tilted in regard to the amount of upheaval the boys and I have had to face vs. less upheaval of others.

There is reason to be concerned. Some days I am so worried about finances and how the boys are going to get through college I believe I am at risk for cancer and/or a heart attack. It is widely believed that people with less emotional support in their lives face greater stress and greater health problems. Married folks (even those with problems and what marriage is perfect) have better health than those who are unmarried and desire to be so. I feel all of this when I'm with the moms and parents of my community.

There are various stress tests out there (even Dr. Phil had one in one of his books) that rate life events. If some of us have experienced far more of those events in our lives, of course our lives, perspectives and feelings are going to be different than those who have not. How can the bridge of understanding be crossed to give acknowledgment to those differences? Why is it such a bad thing for someone to say, "Gee, she's had to face a heck of a lot" instead of trying to always have an even playing score. Life isn't fair. People's experiences aren't either. What's the purpose of those life stressor tests anyway when all is said and done in the end?

I want to get past the feelings of unfairness and betrayal I feel when I compare my life to that of others. But it isn't easy for me to dismiss - perhaps because I am still struggling and life is so hard. Maybe these feelings will only dissipate when my life improves a bit and I start to regain some of the footing I've lost. Maybe when you're still caught up in the struggle it is too hard to be able to stand back and have a more alturistic nature.

There is a difference between a grief event/experience and then the upheaval that comes afterward. They are not one and the same. Maybe this all has nothing to do with grief but rather surviving upheaval, hardships and change that have wrecked havoc on my life the past seven years.

America's Got Talent

I continue this blog for a number of reasons. First and foremost, it is a way for me to grapple with and come to terms with my feelings. Sometimes I'm not clear about what I feel and setting out my quandries here, is a way to gain perspective. Secondly, this blog allows me to obtain the feedback of others and to interact with other interesting, intelligent people. There is a lot to be said for that. Maybe the most important reason for blogging is the hope that in my doing so, I increase or broaden the perspectives of others, be they widowed or not. This blog has kind of moved beyond the topic of grief to encompass adversity in general. I hope that in sharing my feelings, a greater understanding of what it is like to live under trying circumstances is reached. And one of my main goals is to illustrate the life of a person affected by multiple losses since that is not often discussed. Maybe in trying to deal with my life, I'll end up helping others in some, small way.

I've been giving a great deal of thought to the issue of unfairness of late. No doubt triggered by being around all the families at the baseball fields. We live in a town of higher than average income. For instance, I know of no one who has "lost" their home and had to move to an apartment. I know one family that has struggled to hang on to their home with the mortgage crisis with Countrywide and two who sold their mini mansions to move to smaller homes. So I do struggle with this issue because along with feeling alone and isolated because of widowhood and not having much of a support network, I also feel the stigma of being the only one to have lost my home. Now of course I know there have to be some folks in my community who have indeed lost their homes. But when you don't know of any, that is not much help or consolation.

I asked my girlfriend about all of this as it has been troubling me so. She agreed that the parents and families she knows have been pretty much spared hardship from the recession, etc. She attributes it to the fact that the circles we are involved with, or our kids are involved with, are simply made up of higher income people who can afford travel baseball. We're not around struggling people, therefore, we don't know of anyone dealing with severe crisis. And while I do know that people don't air their dirty laundry, it is not the same for a married mom of two to be caring for aging parents when she has a husband to lean on and rely on vs. my situation when I was involved in the same activity as a widowed mom of two young sons.

Part of my frustration could be labeled the "America's Got Talent" syndrome. I've never seen the show before this year - I guess last summer I was too busy packing up the house for our move. But the boys and I have watched it when we haven't been at baseball games. The whole concept of the show has really been bothering me. If you haven't seen it, it it a huge nationwide talent show in which adults and kids can pretty much compete with whatever talent they have. So you have singers, dancers and fire blazing magicians competing alongside others hand whistling and playing the harmonica. There are five year olds and 75 year olds! It is kind of a crazy, hodge podge mess!

What bothers me is that I don't think you can fairly judge apples to oranges. I want all the singers to be in their own competition and then even separated by those who compose their own songs vs. those who sing Fleetwood Mac. I want a junior vs. adult competition. I want the dancers to all perform in a sole dance show. How can you fairly compare a harmonica player with a hand whistler? Before this show I didn't even know hand whistling existed! Maybe the point is that you just can't compare such diverse people, talents, ages and acts. In the end, popularity and the performers who fit into the mainstream will be the ones who come out ahead.

Anyway, back to my own musing. I really get that EVERYONE our there is dealing with their own troubles. But what I struggle with is that all troubles are not created equal. Just as all talent isn't either. There are greater losses than others and some of us have had to face more than our share. That is my point. I won't dwell on it. But I did want to try and clarify my view on this topic.

So in the end what does this all mean for me? I guess I just want a bit of compassion expressed to those of us facing a significant amount of adversity. For others not to immediately jump in and chime "But everyone has problems." And I suppose I'm still trying to come up with helpful solutions to my own situation. How can those of us really struggling have an easier time of it? Where can we turn for more support? How can we learn to balance our problems with hope? For those of us with multiple losses, we're already tired and bogged down from having had to face numerous struggles. So it is a double whammy of dealing with loss and stress such as moving from a home, while facing adversity such as financial hardship. A mixture of grief, stress and anxiety all in one! No wonder the young woman who left home at 16 and was in foster care moved on in the AGT competition. Her story touched at the heartstrings of America even if she sang slightly offtune.

Beyond the First Year

Does anyone know of a decent grief book about widowhood for the years after the first? I know there are a fair amount of books about getting through the first year - those initial weeks and months of intense grief, how to manage the first anniversaries, etc. But I haven't come across those that deal with life after the dust has settled and life has moved on but you're still kind of stuck. Or put another way, you're trying to go forward but your wheels seem to be spinning in the mud. The world is going forward but you seem not to be moving along with it.

Take for instance an issue heavy on my mind of late. What do you do about lingering feelings of resentment, jealousy and envy when interacting with people more fortunate? I wish there was a whole chapter devoted to this issue. And what about the reality of having to continue to live in a world with some pretty clueless people when you've changed. You're no longer the petty, selfish person you once were but you're interacting with people who don't see life as you do.

There is a very self-absorbed mom of a son on my boys' baseball team. I've known her for years and she monopolizes the conversations on the stands, every topic is about her and she just drones on and on about stuff that just has no personal meaning for me - nor does she ever inquire how you are. Anyway, we all know people like this in our lives. Usually I try to tune her out, especially when her topic involves having to alter her daughter's cheerleading outfit because she has grown so much within three months. How this topic can last an hour is beyond me but it does.

The other day she was lamenting the fact that she was so exhauted, tired and drained having just returned from her vacation at Disney in Florida. She explained how waiting in line for rides in the hot summer sun is so exhausting. When I encounter situations like this I wish I had the courage to say, "Lady, you don't know what exhaustion really is. I haven't had a vacation in six years. You are so fortunate to have been able to get away and had the time to wait in line for a roller coaster." But of course, I just smile and nod understandably. In my mind my fantasy involves grabbing her by her sholders and shaking her!

I wonder what this women would be blabbing about if she were widowed. She would have been an excellent widowhood spokeman - for getting out the word about how challenging widowhood really is. But anyway, my point is that as widows we often confront these clueless people and sometimes I am clueless myself as to how to react. I wish I could get out my "Widowhood For Dummies Beyond the First Year" to search out an answer.

When One Door Closes...

When I was going through my divorce, I bought a lovely little necklace from the Signals catalog of a door. The door opened up to display the wording, "When one door closes, another one opens." These words were a powerful motivation for me during that cruelly trying time.

I reflect on those words now and this current topic. During the period of my divorce, I corresponded by email with a wonderful father of four living downstate, three hours away. He had total custody of his children and our relationship progressed to the point of interacting daily by email. We did talk occasionally on the phone and even met once. I considered him more of a good friend and he is the one person I can say really understood what my life of widowhood was like and being an only parent. We often commiserated and compared parenting notes. We had planned to meet again when he came to my area for a work seminar, but those plans fell through when his mother died.

I am sure our relationship would have deepened if we lived closer to one another. As it was, last summer when I was up to my eyeballs in trying to prepare my house to be sold and all of that, I decided to end our interaction, solely due to the distance between us. Sam was fully aware of my friendship and wasn't threatened. But for all involved, I felt it was time to let it go.

Early this year, I decided to check and see how my friend was doing. He got back to me with the news that he had remarried right around Valentine's Day. Wonderful news and lucky for him to have met a nice woman within that six month time period between when I'd last communicated with him (July). I will admit feeling a little envious and even some regret. The man I'd chosen to continue with in a relationship hadn't wanted the commitment of marriage. I questioned whether I'd picked the wrong guy. But no, I can't think like that - there was the distance factor and my resolve to have the boys finish high school where they are.

I have to console myself with the knowledge that there are men out there who want to get married. I was talking with my oldest today about dating and I mentioned that I don't feel I've been very lucky in/with love since the death of my spouse. My son said it is not so much that I haven't been lucky, just that I haven't had a relationship where the man lives in the same area.

Anyway, what really has given me solace are the words on that door necklace. I want to believe that perhaps I had something to do with my friend meeting his new wife. My letting go caused him to reach out, or get out there or do something different that resulted in his meeting her! Now that is pretty darn amazing. One door closed for my friend, but boy did it open! What a happy ending considering he had recently lost his home due to foreclosure. He told me that he and his new wife are buying an old five-bedroom farmhouse through a contract arrangement. I wonder if it is the farmhouse I saw for sale when I checked out real estate listings in his town, just for fun. I remember looking at that listing and thinking it would have been a good fit.

My friend is proof that you can survive foreclosure and divorce and move on to a new, hopeful and happy life. I want to believe that his story can be experienced by all of us and that someday I too may be able to joyfully speak of an opportunity for another chance at marriage and living in a home again.

The latest piece of motivational jewelery that I am interested in is from Jane Seymour's line at Kay Jewelers. They feature two open, intertwined hearts. Her inspiration for creating the line came from a saying of her mother's - that as long as you keep your heart open, love will find its way to you. I hope it finds a way back to my heart too.

Those Damned Flowers Again!

I have a short list of topics I want to write about before stopping this blog. Getting my final two cents in about widowhood in general. But then something like this happens today and I want to post about it and now I'm another day behind in my intention to stop posting about widowhood.

After work, I stopped at one of the local grocery stores (a big-named one in our area) which has been selling meat and dairy products near the expiration code date at a substantial discount. I try to stop in everyday to check out these deals and have come across some great ones - all the meat is sold at either 99 cents or $1.99. Today, I picked up a package of breakfast sausage that I can make with eggs. Packages of cinnamon rolls were just 99 cents so I got some of those. Also, a package of six breakfast burritos.

Basically, I plan what I serve for meals around these specials. If ground turkey or chicken is there, I use that for a skillet dish. Chicken breasts I make into a casserole and so on. Other recent deals: a gallon of skim milk, which is our preference for 99 cents, a dozen eggs for 75 cents, cereal for 50 cents a box and bread for 50 cents a loaf.

As I walked around the store I noticed a nice grandmotherly woman shopping with her daughter-in-law. As they passed me, grandmother said to daughter-in-law, "What kind of sweets can I pick up for the kids? I want to get them something." I felt that little pang of regret tinged with envy pass through me.

Then they turned up behind me in the check out lane and I noticed a gorgeous bunch of white roses coming down the conveyor belt. I admired them and asked what occasion they represented. Grandmother replied, "No occasion. I am just getting them for my beloved daughter-in-law to show her my appreciation. She is the mother of my beloved grandchildren and I am so thankful she is in my life." I smiled and said, "You both are very fortunate." Then as I left the store with my cart filled with marked-down specials the tears started to flow.

Envy

I've done some processing since Valentine's Day when I was so painfully cognizant of all the middle-aged couples around me. At that time I would have labeled my feelings as being jealous of those couples being in love. But I wasn't really jealous that those fortunate folks had love in their lives. Rather, I was envious of them because of the stability and security they have within their marriages.

The number one thing I miss most about being married was that stability and security. To be in a long-term relationship that withstood the test of time. As my husband lay unconscious and dying, I was able to speak to the hospital staff and make known his wishes. Because I knew my husband so intimately and deeply I knew without a shadow of a doubt that what I was conveying was what he would have wanted. So that is what I see when I look at couples together. The stability and strength they have in their marriages, their commitment to one another and that they have a person to lean on in good times and bad.

I wish everyone love. We all deserve it and we all should have it in our lives. We deserve to be told that we are loved and to be nurtured and accepted by others as we nurture and accept those we love.

The definition of envy is: 1: painful or resentful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another joined with a desire to possess the same advantage 2.: an object of envious notice or feeling

The definition of jealousy is: 1.: demanding complete devotion 2.: fearful or suspicious of a rival or competitor : feeling a spiteful envy toward someone more successful than oneself 3.: suspicious that a person one loves is not faithful 4.: Watchful, Careful

As I read these definitions I see my longings for a life joined with someone as envious, not jealousy. I am not spiteful or really angry at others who have this. And I certainly do not wish ill will or harm toward others. Rather, the softened way to view this is that I do have a painful awareness of an advantage enjoyed by another and I sure do want that in my life too!

Some weeks ago I came across in one of my self-help books, the notion that envy is not the bad devil we are always led to believe. All of us have been told since we were kids not to be jealous. But this author said we should pay attention to those times when we are envious and they used the word envy instead of jealous. By tuning into ourselves when we have these feelings, we become aware of what we are really seeking and want for our lives. This concept has softened the way I was feeling around Valentine's Day. I was not bitter or mean spirited; rather I was tuned into what I really want for my life and what is now absent.

It is interesting because often when I am reading a newspaper, magazine, catalogs or even junk mail, I tear out or keep pictures of middle-aged couples together. I keep reading and hearing about creating collages of what we want to bring into our lives. So I want to start putting those pictures of happy couples walking hand-in-hand onto a poster board - all these pictures aren't doing any good sitting in piles of paperwork. These photos don't make me sad - rather they inspire me. And they raise the hope inside me that makes me aspire to having that type of committed and long-term relationship I had with my husband again, sometime in my future (hopefully sooner than later).

I will also put photos of places I want to visit because my love for travel has been solely lacking in my life these past years. And some photos of antiques because I want to get back to collecting my glassware that made me so happy just looking at it and touching it (the ex-husband got the entire collection that we built up together) and I've been collecting it again in little dribs and drabs, here and there. And I might put some pictures of libraries on there to nurture my baby dream of going to work at a library in the future. I plan on starting my poster tonight and putting it up in front of the sink where I'll see it often everyday since I can't escape those dishes or making meals for the boys and I.

Also, I am going to start stopping by the local yarn shops I love more frequently. And the bookstores. Just for some browsing and conversation with the sales clerks that know me. I'm going to hone in on trying to do more of what brings me little bits of pleasure during this tough time of transition for me, where I'm slowly but surely starting to make a little progress out of this hole I've landed in after falling so far and so hard. All small steps with the first being my poster which I'm becoming excited about starting. Who knows what other pictures may end up on it?

I am grateful:

1. That spring is definitely in the air.
2. That my oldest made the Varsity Volleyball team.
3. That I hit the motherload yesterday in the store and got some ground turkey, milk and cottage cheese all at half price. Yes, I am that woman who runs into the store every day to scout out the discounted specials - some days I go out emptyhanded but last night was worth the wait. 4. That I have the opportunity to relax tonight and watch a little t.v. while working on my dream poster.
5. That there is food in the pantry and freezer.