Merry Bah Humbug!

There is little to be said for Christmas when one's entire family, with the exception of one's mother-in-law and one's self, now reside in the cemetery.

No matter how much you smile, no matter how many "Merry Christmases" you wish, no matter how many times you say "Oh, I'm fine!" and no matter how many times you say "Oh, if I just keep faking it, I'll make it!"--it doesn't make any of it so!!!

You don't care whether anybody else's Christmas is merry or not...cause yours is a pile of crap. And you're not fine! You may not be a blubbering, simpering fool--but you're certainly NOT fine! And the cheery smile and well wishes (i.e., faking it) aren't going to help you make it!!! Nothing but hanging on by the sheer force of your amazingly strong will is going to allow you to make it.

The wind is blowing a gale outside, and the chill factor is 20 degrees. That translates into no poinsettias on at the cemetery--cause I'm afraid I'd freeze right before I blew off the ladder and shatter into a million pieces...oh well, don't guess they know the difference anyway.

Tonight it will be put on the "happy face" and go to Karen's for presents and cheer....now I could care less about presents and am certainly not cheery! But that's what "we" always do--well hell, doesn't anybody but me remember there isn't a "we" anymore??

Ah, but it's Christmas, and I shouldn't ruin everybody else's good time, just because my life is full of crap...so here comes the makeup, the christmas clothes and the "being of good cheer".

Wish me luck!

Someday is NOW!

You know, we all know that we will die someday. Couples in which one or both partners are warriors are forced to consider death early in their marriages. When you're married to a tactical jet pilot, you face it every day your spouse goes off to fly...war or no war, what goes up must come down--it's just the degree of control in the crash that matters. But it's always a "someday" kind of thing. Then after retirement comes, it's not as omnipresent and you don't think about it as much. You talk about it some, but not all that much! Then one day BANG! and it's NOW. Life comes to an end and the spouse that's left has to go on alone.

Who would think that something as simple as buying a new computer for the office would be another step toward removing Larry from my life? I'd have never thought it! But on the way home from the computer store tonight, it dawned on me that I now had 1 more computer than I actually needed. Larry can't very well compute from where he is! And I can't imagine that Larry's heaven is full of laptops--he wasn't all that thrilled with them down here! I began to picture his desk and chair in our home office...soon his computer will be gone, there won't be much use for his chair, as I can't sit in two at a time. So the computer desk might as well go...don't need it either. He's not ever going to come in and "compute" with me! A time we actually enjoyed spending together...as he used me for his own personal dictionary and computer instructor!

So, what to do with Larry's computer...fortunately, he didn't have a lot on it, so it won't be hard to wipe...except for the actual doing it! You see, it seems to me that is one more step to wiping him out of my life! And I don't want him out of my life! I want him right here...but this is one time I'm not going to get what I want!

I have to remind myself sometimes that it's over...that he's gone...that it really happened...that life as I've known it for the last 25 years...a life that pretty much revolved around Larry...is over. You see, til something like a new computer--actually it's getting rid of the old one--pops up, I can almost forget! I can go through the motions of life everyday and it's not just awful! It's like he's gone on cruise, or in bed asleep! Then something simple pops up and there it is, slapping me in the face! I guess if it slaps me enough, I'll come to--and realize that my 'someday' is now!

Things That Go Bump in the Night

So, I'm just about to fall asleep...dog is on the pillow on top of my head, and cat is snuggled in the crook of my knees (they're already sound asleep) when....you got it, something sounds like somebody (Larry?) bumped into it in the dark. Well now, you gotta remember that Larry wandered around in the dark a lot (so he wouldn't wake me up) and was always bumping into things (which of course, woke me up!). Besides, his balance was really bad and he never used a cane in the house.

So, my first thought is "oh god, what'd he run into now?" Closely followed by "No you fool, it can't be Larry, he's not here anymore." So brave little widder that I am, I rouse the dog and cat to be my "protectors" (dog weighs 7 lbs., cat 11 lbs.--like they could save me from anything larger than a mouse!). Anyway, I flip on the bathroom light so I can see, and off I go, dog and cat safely behind me, in search of what has "bone bump in the night". My Aunt Jeri's husband used to say she & I were too stupid to be afraid....and I think he may have been right about me! Anyway, off I go--no baseball bat (we don't have 1), no golf club (don't have one of those either), and no gun (we've got lots of those!)--just a toy poodle and an alley cat.

Well, none of the doors were broken in, all the windows were OK...so the house appeared to be empty except for my little trio. I still haven't decided if that was a relief or not....if it wasn't somebody in physical form....was it somebody in 'some other' form? (Larry? Aunt Jeri?) After all, Aunt Jeri's been pretty good about showing up when I least expect her (she died in 2001 in Larry's chair--apparently the best place to die in this house!) and hiding things from me...maybe she brought Larry with her this time? I know, I'm about 1/2 goofy!

Anyway, off in search of the "bump" I go....by this time the dog and cat couldn't be less interested in my safety and have gone back to bed. So I search room by room, and finally I get to my bathroom (where I first flipped on the light). And there, in the bath tub is the culprit! I'd left the handle to the bath tub scrubber leaning up against the side of the bath tub (inside the tub, which has a hollow bottom) and it had fallen over in the tub....making that "bumping" sound on the hollow bottom!

Now, Larry always took a bath, never a shower....so it could have been him...who knows? I turned out the light, moved the dog and cat over, and went back to sleep.

Long and Winding Road

Well, it's been a while since I've posted....mostly because I've been on the road between San Antonio/Midland/Dallas and then the reverse; and, because I was just too darn tired. I seem to be tired a lot lately...even my soul seems tired. I look in the mirror and suddenly I see this "little ole lady". Never felt like I was growing old (except for the aches & pains, but I could deal with that--aspirin is an amazing drug). Anyway, never minded that I was nearly 60 and never really felt like "nearly 60" as I imagined that should feel. Now suddenly I am just flat old in my soul...old and tired. It must be because Larry's not here to tell me every day how pretty I am, and how smart I am, and just generally keep my spirit refreshed.

You wonder what the hard part of this widder business is? That's it...the person you shared everything with, the person who was always there to pump you up, to defend you (even when you didn't need it!) is gone--literally, just "poof" and gone. There's nobody to tousle your hair while you're getting ready in the morning (so you have to comb it all over!), to tell you how beautiful you look when you walk out in the mornings all dressed and ready to meet the day, or to tell you that you're not fat....and show you all the really fat women (and there are a LOT of them in San Antonio, after all we are the 2nd fattest city in the nation!) and say "Now, Honey Bunches, THAT'S FAT--see, I told you you're not fat!" Nobody to come in at 11:00 at night and say "I think I'll go get a chocolate malt, you want one?" There's nobody to come in the office when you're on the computer and say "You need anything? Some tea or something?"

It isn't the living alone that is so awful....it's the 'being' alone. And you know you'll be alone for the rest of your life...however long that might be....

Widders' Heritage

You know, I was thinking tonight about all the women in my immediate family who have been "young" widders" (I think 59 1/2 is pretty darn young--but I'm the oldest in my family. Larry lived longer than either of our fathers or his grandfather or uncle). My Daddy's mother was widowed in her early 40's (penicillin would have remedied the problem, but it hadn't been invented yet), my mother was widowed at 53, my aunt at 42, my mother-in-law at 49, and me at 59-1/2. Even my step-greatgrandmother was widowed young (with 9 kids no less). Now that's quite a heritage of widders. I look at how they survived and handled widderhood and am astounded at the differences.

My step-greatgrandmother (Lydia John Jourdan Carver) continued to farm her rented land with the help of her kids...tough ole gal my Grandma Carver and looked great in pants!

My Daddy's mother (Leone Branton Thomasson) bought a new black car, lots of black dresses, sold all the land in the lower Rio Grande Valley (turned out to be a really dumb thing to do!) and bought a farm in Knox County near her brother....which my Daddy farmed for her for years. She got mad when my Daddy & Mother ran off and got married, 'cause she didn't want anybody to know she was old enough to have a son get married (and Daddy wasn't her oldest son!). She was looking for a new husband, you see! Well, she found one--mean as hell--and he didn't last long. She lived the rest of her life single until age 79.

Then there was my mother--my Daddy died on February 27, 1976, just as suddenly as my Larry did...only at least Daddy had a history of heart problems. My mother just "quit" on me on the 28th day of February. This woman who had been one of the most independent women I'd ever known, turned into a "babbling fool". She just couldn't go on without Daddy. Interesting, that what I remember as the stormiest marriage ever, turned into the best marriage in the world, according to Mother. There were only 2 people in the world who could "control" my mother, my Daddy and my mother's mother. There was no reasoning with her after they were gone! She got meaner, more controlling and nuttier as time went on. She died a bitter woman at age 71.

Then there was my Aunt Jeri, who truly could go "bear hunting with a switch"! Her husband died at 54, just as suddenly as the rest of them. Aunt Jeri was widowed at 43. She'd have been fine if it hadn't been for my mother...who dealt her just as much hell as she always dealt me. Aunt Jeri sold their business in Los Angeles and moved back to Sudan. First mistake was ever stopping in Sudan!!!! She was dating a guy from Clovis--nice guy, I liked him! Mother threw such a hissy fit that Aunt Jeri stopped dating him and never dated again! What an absolute waste! My Aunt Jeri died at 75--a widow for 32 years.

Then there's my mother-in-law. Charlotte was widowed in 1979 at 49. Yes, suddenly, just like the rest of us. Woke up Memorial Day morning, went to wake R. V. up and he was gone. Thank goodness Larry was home on leave and got to spend time with his Daddy!

Anyway, Charlotte told Larry (as Larry told it) that she had to create a new life for herself, without R. V. or she would die herself. What a smart lady! (That's where my Mother missed the boat!) When I became friends with Charlotte (before I met Larry), she had created that new life...not that she forgot R. V.; she didn't--he was the love of her life! And I think for the most part, she's had a happy life--though she never married again. My thoughts are that she just never found anybody (though she dated a good bit) who compared to R. V.--and why settle for less. She's still trucking along at age 79, in spite of the blows life has dealt her.

I look at these women--from whom I come--and am astounded at the similarities our lives have taken...all widowed young; but handled widowhood very differently. My Grandma Carver had to keep working the land to survive. She still had kids at home to raise and little money to do it with. My Grandma Leone had money from the sale of their land, had an income producing farm and somebody (Daddy) to farm it for her. My Mother had enough money to get by on and had land and somebody to rent it. My Aunt Jeri had money (a lot for the times) and land and someone to rent it (shame she ever stopped in Sudan). Charlotte had very little money left, a business to sell (not for a ton of money, but some) and a good job--and the smarts to increase her position in life and fund a retirement. Not to mention the smarts to realize that her life had to change.

So, which one do I emulate? From which do I take examples of what to do with my life? Perhaps I need a little of all of them! Well, maybe not Mother--cause she failed miserably at life and widderhood--and made the rest of us miserable in the process. But, my Grandma Carver had a strong work ethic, and lived a long, good life with strong, honest, hardworking kids as her legacy. My Grandma Leone (after divorce from #2) was independent, strong, worked hard, managed her money well and still had a little left when she died for her boys. Aunt Jeri knew what to do, but unfortunately she listened to her 'big sister' (my mother) and it was not until my mother died that Aunt Jeri returned to her independent self--there just wasn't enough time left for her to reclaim her life.

Then there's Charlotte--who tells me on a regular basis "you'll make it through this, I did and I'll help you!" She is my constant source of inspiration and solace. I know that she is as heartbroken as I am (if not more), after all, Larry was her only child...and one is not supposed to outlive one's children. Yet she remains strong and determined. She seems to have a "she & I" against the world attitude. She's had hip surgery since Larry died; we've kept the road hot between San Antonio/Midland/Dallas/Midland/San Antonio for the last 6 weeks...and still she has a wonderful attitude. She's been my friend for 30 years (at least), longer than I knew Larry, for that matter; and we are even closer now. She truly understands what widderhood is like and how truly lost I am without Larry; and she is a constant ray of hope and sunshine in my life. She understands how I loved her son and how he loved me! And she props me up when I think I can't take another step--when I am so tired I think I can't go any farther. I don't know how she does it when her own heart is broken--but she does.

Charlotte is the heritage I look to for guidance. She is strong beyond belief. She knows somehow when I need to cry and when I need to laugh. Most importantly, she is the heritage that says to me "don't worry, you'll make it--and I'll help you!"

Challenge or Adventure?

Well, I'm not sure whether this widder's life is a challenge or an adventure. At either rate, I am determined not to let it beat me; but, there are days when I'd just like to go to bed and stay there for days! Sleep is the great healer you know. I'm not sure that applies if you stay there for days, however!!! So every morning when the dog wakes me up (not my dog, Charlotte's dog--mine knows better!); anyway, every morning when Buttons demands, I get up (about 7 a.m.--way too early for any human or dog!) And believe it or not most days I stay up!

It's been a challenging week since I last posted. I've heard Larry choking in the den...same sound I heard the night he died. I guess I'm not really crazy, because I had enough sense to know he wasn't really in there...but it certainly takes you aback! Then it's over as quick as it happened and you move on! Funny how the mind plays these evil tricks on you, though!

Speaking of evil tricks--got mail returned "unknown" at the last address I had for Jennine (you remember her, she's the one I dreamt he ran off with.). Well, she isn't where she's supposed to be and he's not where he's supposed to be (i.e., here with me), so maybe they are together in some "other life". See what I mean about evil tricks!

Then today I decided I'd go get my hair cut (and colored, but don't tell anybody). I needed a "pick me up"; besides the first of the "holiday parties" is Thursday night! So Cindy is blowing my hair dry and she says "did you know you have these red spots on your neck and part of your scalp....well envisioning all my newly cut and colored hair falling out in the floor--I say "Oh, Lord no! Get me the mirror!" Sure enough--red whelts--crap, I've broken out in hives! Well now getting my hair done has never resulted in that before--so we know I'm not allergic to any of the products. I say to Cindy (knowing that you have to learn all about scalp diseases in beauty school) "so, you're the expert--what do you think could be causing this?" "How about STRESS? Your husband dying...running the highways & byways of Texas? Just for starters!" she says. "Oh, yeah, could be, huh!" As if I don't have enough "challenges" in my life right now--now I have hives--guess I'll be buying Benedryl by the pound!

Then it was off to Scrapbook Club, where all my friends had to examine my scalp...yep, hives! "Do they itch" someone asks.....well they didn't til she mentioned it! Now even my little finger itches!

Oh yes, and I still don't have the smoke alarm fixed--darn thing is still beeping at me! And you'll be happy to know that it only takes one widder to change a light bulb in the ceiling!

Challenges? Adventures? Seems more like the survival of the fittest to me!

Nightmare? Premonition? Reality!

For several months before Larry passed on, (over, or whatever you call it....dead seems too stark and would imply there is nothing more!), anyway, for several months before Larry passed on, I had this recurring dream about him running off and leaving me with one of his old girlfriends from North Carolina. In the dream, he had run off with Jeannine (my main "competition" when we started dating!) and I would be trying to call him, or looking for him. It was an awful dream....I couldn't find him anywhere, they were staying at her place and no one would tell me where it was, he wouldn't answer his phone. Finally I found their place but could never catch them there! When I finally did catch up to him, he was in his Dad's red & white chevy pickup and wouldn't roll down the window and talk to me! I'd wake up so upset that I was nearly in tears!

I'd tell Larry about it the next morning and how it upset me....he'd tell me I was an being foolish; and that he wasn't running off and leaving me with or without anybody else...that he would never, ever leave me...and that if he'd wanted to run off with Jeannine, he'd have done it 25 years ago before he married me! He thought it was oh so funny! I thought the mere idea of him being gone was terrifying. But, since my grandmother always said take your dreams in reverse, I decided I was just being foolish and he wasn't going anywhere! That is, until I would dream it again...and then we went through the whole process again!

Well, today I had the same dream...only I didn't see Jeannine. But he had left me and I couldn't find him. I was trying and trying to call him. I called and called and called, but he didn't answer. Seemed like it went on for days to me....though I know the dream was only seconds, maybe minutes, long. All of a sudden in the dream it dawned on me that he was really gone and wasn't ever going to talk to me again or come back. That's when I woke up--nearly hysterical!

All the books on grief tell you that dreams of your departed loved one will probably happen. So I'm not surprised at dreaming about him. I am surprised to have this same, recurring dream in a slightly different format.

I've always believed in premonitions in dreams. The night before my Daddy died I saw him on the gurney at St. Paul's Hospital in Dallas being rolled down to surgery to stop his heart and try to start it again (to try to stop the atrial fibulations after open heart surgery) and he was waiving goodbye to me. That was exactly what he had done in 1970 when it really happened--you see they told us all that might not survive. That night I also dreamed of him in his coffin. He was all dressed up in his good black suit in his silver coffin (matched his hair). The next morning at 9:00 my boss came in and told me my Daddy was dead.

So were all these happenings just nightmares? Were they premonitions of what was coming? Were they visions of what was to soon be my reality? Was Larry's subconscious trying to tell me "to get ready, he was going to leave"? Was it some external force trying to warn me? Was it the "inner knowing of all things" that I believe we all have deep inside us trying to warn me? Was it God? Maybe an angel?

I have no clue....but I will tell you that it was real when I dreamt it in these past months--and was certainly real this afternoon. Now it is my awful, awful reality!

Where'd My Ladder Go?

You know this widder business isn't easy and brings with it a whole host of things you'd never expect--of course no one expects to be a widder either....but it's the everyday things you don't expect. Like last night--the darn smoke alarm starts beeping about midnight. I think to myself "Larry needs to go fix that." Well of course, Larry's not here (that's hard to remember, believe it or not!) Anyway, I'm a little short thing about 5'4" and Larry was 6'1". For nearly 25 years, I had my own personal "reacher upper"....so now what? The darn thing continues to beep at me!!

So, I think to myself (after the wave of panic subsides a little), wonder where the step stool is. Yep, you're right, Larry tended to the step stool's location, too!! After all, I had him, I didn't need a step stool! So I finally find it and up I go. Well the darn smoke alarm couldn't be one of those cheapie things you buy at Walgreen's or somewhere. Oh no, it has to be wired, I mean WIRED in as in "by an electrician". So, I stop to wonder if I'm about to get electrocuted (remember, Larry did the smoke detector battery replacing too!). I decide that if you don't have to flip the breaker to change a light bulb, you probably don't have to flip it to replace a smoke detector either (aren't we lucky I was right....else you wouldn't be reading this!). So I get the thing disconnected, and then realize I don't have my glasses...at least I was smart enough not to holler at Larry to bring them to me!

So, of course I can't see diddly, so down I go and off in search of my glasses. Then back to where there's light to try to figure out how to open the little battery door! Fortunately that was pretty easy. Then I realize I don't have a battery in my hand, but fortunately, at least I know where he kept those! Now, battery installed, back up the step stool I go. Took me 15 minutes to get the darn thing reconnected and another 10 minutes to get it screwed back into it's "holder". It has now taken me nearly 45 minutes to change the battery in 1, that's right, ONE smoke detector and we have 7. At this rate I'll be able to turn this into a full day's work!

Actually feeling quite proud of myself, down the ladder I go. Just as I was putting the step stool up where I thought it should go (there are some advantages to being the only one living at your house.), I hear this high pitched beep--yep, you got it, I replaced the battery in the WRONG smoke detector! I nearly cried!

All this trouble for something Larry could have done in 5 minutes....and the problem still isn't solved. So what did I do? I "told" him how mad I was at him for not being there, because I didn't even have enough sense to replace the right smoke detector...how was I supposed to cope with life without him????

And then I went in the bathroom, got some cotton, put it in my ears, and went to bed!

Widow or Widder?

Everybody knows that in the South 'widow' is actually pronounced 'wid-der'. And I'm from the South, so that seemed only natural. The other reason is that 'widow' sounds too stark, hurtful, and sterile. So here I am, a Widder and that's with a great big capital W. And that 3rd reason is because "Widows Web" was already taken!

I've been trying to figure out, for 2 months now, how to navigate my way through this mess my life is suddenly in--Widowhood. I've read up on grief, and I'm sure I'm in some stage, cause afterall my 59 year old husband of 22 years is most definitely dead. I found him in his chair right where I'd left him 3 minutes earlier, perfectly healthy and watching TV...and believe me he was definitely gone! I saw him all dressed in his Dress Blues in that box; and I saw the box at the cemetery. I saw the planes fly over and finally I heard that young sailor play Taps and I watched the young lieutenant and a young sailor try to fold his flag (boy did they need practice!)...so I know it's true, he really is dead! You know, 'perfectly healthy' isn't supposed to equal dead....but I learned that sometimes health doesn't much matter.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand...I am now 'the Widder Hall'. Sounds as strange to my ears as 'Mrs. Hall' did when I first married! It's much less joyful however...much less. I finally decided I'd blog a bit and see if it helped me make my way through this maze. If anybody reads it, maybe it will help them too--though we all grieve at different paces.

So now that you know why "Widder" instead of widow, we'll see how this goes along. Feel free to comment if you choose. But, please, none of this 'keep your chin up', "it'll get better", "time helps" stuff! I know you mean to help--and it may all be true--but right now I could care less about where my chin is, it certainly doesn't seem like it will ever get better, and so far time has only made it worse!