I am tired and drained from the workday - in the past three months I have worked every Saturday and Sunday, along with some Fridays. All day long I worried about getting the house cleared out and ready for our move on August 25th. What is absolutely the worst aspect of widowhood for me is not having a helpmate by my side to share some of the load (emotional, parenting and with the day-to-day tasks of living, including the house and working).
I get up alone and sleep alone. Right now on my list to the Universe of what I most want in the future is to be able to SHARE A BED with a committed, loving man. The lack of daily support has really taken its toll over the years. There is no one here when I get home to offer a hug, a drink, encouragement, a smile, a back rub, or an opportunity to vent. Hard to keep pulling yourself up by the bootstraps day after long day.
This aspect of widowhood needs to be put out on the table - some of us don't have supportive family and friends can only be relied on so much. How do tired, drained widows recharge and revive themselves to keep on going? Especially those working with kids to actively supervise and parent? That is the great question of the day.
And to take it up a notch, I'm just talking about the day-to-day stuff here - what about handling the conflict and stress that results from extreme hardship such as foreclosure and moving, as in my case. I'm already pretty much depleted to the extreme and now I have to get through another hardship on my lonesome. None of the widow guidebooks I've read over the years have had any sections on this issue.
Widows are doing the work of two but not receiving any support back from a partner to help defray the stress and strain of the double work load.
Today I am grateful:
1. For the orange ball of sun I saw setting in the horizon as I drove home from work.
2. For the good ham and turkey sandwich I made for lunch.
3. That I had clean clothes to wear to work.
4. For the spaghetti I made this morning before work so I had a nice dinner ready for me when I got home.
5. For being able to lay my head against a cool pillow when I go to bed.
there are no words to bring you up. i know this because there are no words to bring me up. but someone, anyone leaving a kind message always touches me. it takes time to leave a comment. it takes more than a moment to consider what to say to this person who is hurting badly enough to tell the world, if the world would stop for that moment to notice.
ReplyDeletei've noticed you. i see that you are hurting. i know you are angry and you have the right to feel these emotions. you also are worth being told that you are thought of and looked for.
i cannot believe that this is all there is for you. there is more out there. i can't remember where i heard it but i think it's true. sometimes life saves the best for last. the best is on the horizon. keep treading water. keep up with your boys. keep searching for your happiness. and one day, i'll log on and i'll see a change in your words. they will be lighter. you will have found whatever you're searching for. it will have found you.
I am smiling at your comments because often I spend quite a bit of time thinking of my responses to the blogs I read. My youngest wants to get on the computer and tells me to "hurry up" but I put him off explaining that these replies can't be rushed because they are being sent to someone in pain. So when I reply it is with a great deal of thought and consideration.
ReplyDeleteI do know there are no exact/magic words to lift us out of the dark places we are in. I also know that sometimes we just need to be in that dark place awhile before pulling ourselves out. That is why I'll never advise someone to cheer up, move on or get over it. As J in Wales commented, it is okay to wallow. What a great word!
Your words in your posts are like soothing balm to my soul. They are exquisite, even though I know they are written in such pain. But they shine of the love you and your Marine shared and that somehow restores some of my hope and belief that life will get better.