“If not now, when?”

10/1/10

In a few words, today, just today when I am writing this, I don’t like my life without Jack, but I have to learn to keep living it. It is simply that phrase that is the learning of 27 months without him: I keep on trying to do and add to my life something that would enrich it, but, truthfully, it is overshadowed at how much I miss him. It feels like I am trying to live with “50%-missing-thus-50%-is-good-enough” and go on. I still acutely know what/who is missing, what I wish for, and I also know my reality. He is simply not going to return. That thinking leaves me with asking “What now?” And my mantra for acting, “If not now, when?”

If given the average life expectancy, I have calculated that I will have more months without him than with him. Although somewhat a dreary thought, it is my reality and I need to fill those years with some adventures, learnings, and hope/joy/happiness. Truly, I have nothing else to lose by embracing my own dreams, and much to gain.

Almost without an exception when I unlock the door to my house, I realize that it is my house and he is not waiting for me inside. I am starting some “winterizing” tasks on the cabin and I am stunned that another winter is upon me. I have completed another year of maintaining that refuge. The cabin and my house are mine to maintain. In that, I realize my strength, determination, and courage to go forth. I can do because I have. Again, I can do for what will be my third winter without him.

I have gotten involved in a widowed support organization, which has 5 groups in the Puget Sound area, from Kent to Ballard and in Bellevue. I have attended all 5, both out of curiosity and a need to make connections. You see, I am chairperson of a fund-raising auction in November, and am encouraging the membership to both attend the dinner/auction/bingo/Texas Hold ‘Em night (Nov. 20th), and support my efforts on procuring items for the auction’s baskets. It has given me something to do for a good cause. It also provides a place for my energy to make an impact and a difference, something also missing in my life.

(Sales pitch: I am calling on friends to supplement the “holes” after the membership has given what they can. If you’re looking for something to do and support a good organization, you are invited to the evening dinner. Tickets are $20 for dinner, of which $5 is tax deductible, and Bingo participation is another $20 for 10 cards. Contact me for more information.)

I cannot capture in this entry the learning, the sadness of others’ losses, and the threads of what a support group shares. I have listened to stories, felt the tears of common experiences, and am in awe at the strength of individuals to keep on going. I’m 58 years old, and I listen to women (most widowed are women) in their 70’s and 80’s and 90’s trying to piece their remaining years into some purpose. I was at a group meeting at a retirement home and this 94 yr. old wanted to do something for the auction that she could do in her room. She wanted to give back with all her limitations at 94!! I watched a man with two young sons in tears of losing his wife in June. He couldn’t look at any of us in the eye and shared nothing more than he needed to be there at the meeting. There are people who have never written a check or balance financial statements, put gas in their car, attended school functions, cooked meals, shopped, and the list goes on and on. And they lose the one they loved and, now, they do these tasks. I am forever awed with people, and now, especially those who are grieving.

For my “learning-something new” event, the windshield wipers on Jack’s truck were kapputz . I went into an auto parts store for new ones. The sales clerk started outside to put them on the truck, but he didn’t know who he was dealing with, did he? He couldn’t do it because, (1) I drove my car and, (2) I wanted to do it myself, learning how. The story ends that I couldn’t figure it out after several tries. So, I’m going back to the store, conceding my defeat, and watching him put on ONE of the two, so I can learn and do the other. I bought a grease gun and grease, which I once owned in the old house, but so well moved/packed that I can’t find it, thus it is “re-moved” into an unknown spot. It is a wintering task to grease the tractor. I was up on the roof at the cabin to clean the chimney and checked the flashing. I built a retaining wall with 43-20+ lb bricks and got my first load of top soil put into the truck and shoveled into flower beds myself. Maybe it’s time to share some of my awe of other survivors with myself. It’s one of those learnings of being widowed that what was done by the other is now my responsibility: either someone does it, helps me, or I do it myself. Simple as that.

The widowed groups provide new social interactions, which I need. Once a week I have a place to go with people who understand the “widowed brain” and experiences. There are numerous social functions with each group, which anyone from any group may attend. I have casual friends in every group now, having attended so many meetings. Of course, my brain starts on how to make everything better, more supportive of the membership’s needs. I realize that I have a HUGE need to use my talents and gifts to better this world.

I leave for Egypt for 15 days in October. What an adventure, uh? House/dog sitter all in place. Almost packed. It will be my second big trip without Jack, the cruise last year being the first. There will be more, no doubt. It was what we saved to do in our retirement years, and don’t I know it. Doing it alone has guilt overtones, as it was his money, too, his dreams, our dreams. Now, it’s all my dreams and plans.

I’ll celebrate our 29th wedding anniversary on Oct. 10th. It pains me at meetings to hear the widowed speak of 30+ years, 40+ years, and 50+ years of marriage. I shake my first at the Heavens for not giving us more. My God knows that I am still angry over this…and we still talk about it often. If nothing else, I have learned that it could have been less, and, for that, I am grateful, as I have heard those stories, too.

I have found a phrase or sentence that says what Oct. 10th is, as “wedding anniversary” doesn’t sound right. “I am celebrating that I married Jack 29 years ago on Oct. 10th.” I think that is it.

Although still surreal at times, it is really my life. I pick up my mail, walk my dog, pick fresh veggies from my garden, and now, prepare for winter. I still have to dismiss those moments when I want to apologize to Jack, my love, for keep on going, doing things we would have done, but I now do with some enjoyment alone or with friends. I’m me, Jackson, I gotta do it for us, for me. You wouldn’t want otherwise, as I would for you. I know, I know, and life goes on.

To Life and living on,
Tally

P.S. A few days later now. I’ve been told that the anticipation of the wedding anniversary is usually worst than the day itself. So true, so true.