Category Archives: Christian Widows

HOW to HeLp a NEW WIDOW and a SEasOnED WIDOW

 

This picture capsulates my first  2 years….not de-railing, but in a now-cold-unfriendly world, in my grief – cocoon, with just enough light to see the immediate day… all while in unchartered wild territory.

I WAS (blissfully) IGNORANT OF THESE  “How to Help a Widow” suggestions BECAUSE OF LACK OF EXPERIENCE. Through the love of the following eleven people I can write this blog:

This blog is dedicated to:  my dad (now passed away), my mom, my sisters Jean and Janelle, Loren’s sister Joyce, mentor and friend Mary,  family friends Marvin and Carole, friend Lorri (now passed away, just 3 months ago), co-widow Eileen, and co-widow Cindy.  These  eleven individuals regularly reached out to me.  These individuals have maintained their individual rhythms throughout the seasons up until now, 4 years and 4 months later.  (My children are not included in this list….only because they have equally borne their own  grief).

 

HOW   TO   HELP   A   NEW    WIDOW:

 

  1. TELL HER you are sorry for her loss. Tell her you are praying for her.
  2. SEND cards. WRITE posts on Facebook that she will see.  Email her.  Text her.
  3. HUG HER.  Let her sob. Just know some widows will love the long embraces…some not….it can depend upon who she is hugging.
  4. UNDERSTAND THAT SHE MAY NOT RESPOND to your thoughts, care and concern (the 1st 4 months are full of rearranging financial matters, so, along with the intense grief, she may lack in the “proper ways” to respond when people have reached out).
  5. TELL HER MEANINGFUL THINGS ABOUT her spouse. Those words will briefly lessen the pain and those words will come back to her mind later when she can smile!
  6. VISIT HER IN PERSON, even if it is just for 15 minutes. Those 15 minutes will help pull her out of her unbearable pain….giving her a brief reprieve….
  7. WHEN YOU ARE VISITING WITH HER don’t be afraid to ask questions…and if she can’t converse much just be there to briefly talk about basic little things… especially in a sudden death, her heart and mind is still stuck back with the event that changed her course of life….
  8. BE WILLING TO SIT IN DEAD SILENCE WITH HER… “dead silence” is OK….because that is her new reality…(just like my list of eleven people they’ll always be cherished for having been willing to share the dead silence with me).
  9. IF YOU WANT TO BRING FOOD, please bring it in/on a disposable dish. Her mind is too confused to remember “more details”…things that were once small for her are now gigantic.
  10. IF YOU OFFER TO HELP HER with something  (ie. those jobs that MUST be done annually), be sure that you follow through and do what you said you’d do (widows often feel afraid…. worrying how certain jobs will get done)!

 

HOW   TO   HELP   A   SEASONED   WIDOW:

  1. Lady friends (dads and brothers, too), SET UP COFFEE or LUNCH DATES with her. Weekly, monthly or quarterly  (this will be a life-line to her).
  2. Ladies (dads and brothers, too), SHOOT HER A BRIEF TEXT EVERY FEW DAYS or so asking how her day is going (this will be a life-line to her….she STILL misses those routine connections that she had with her husband)!
  3. TELL HER ABOUT all-ladies Bible Study Groups (being the only single person in a mixed group still feels unnatural in the best of circumstances).
  4. BE WILLING TO LET HER REVERT to conversations about her deceased husband.
  5. BE WILLING TO REMINISCE about the happy times AND the painful times that she may have had in her marriage (by now she is processing and assessing her marriage….it’s a normal part of the grief process).
  6. IF YOU LIKE TO PURCHASE LITTLE GIFTS, treat her  with one (but don’t do it too much…likely, her finances are strapped and she may feel bad that she can’t reciprocate).
  7. GO SEE A MOVIE or take her along on your errands trip (if your hours are compatible with her work hours).
  8. UNDERSTAND THAT SHE DOESN’T EXPECT YOU TO REPLACE HER HUSBAND but know that  she truly values your effort and willingness to spend time with her.
  9. UNDERSTAND THAT SHE once lived a life full of connection (please know,  just because she works, has kids, and goes to church doesn’t mean she has deep friendships there).
  10. TRUST HER….if she’s wise she won’t cross “those” boundaries and impede on your family time (YOU be the one to set your boundaries first since you have at least one more person to consider).

SLAMMED. Unexpectedly. FEELING Him.

Sometimes it’s completely unavoidable. That is, the random intense sense of  loss that can slam me.

It all started with a wonderful unexpected vivid dream last week.  I was walking through the great room heading towards the kitchen.  Loren comes around the corner, holding a stacked plate of fresh baked cookies.  He had his huge impish smile on his face….he was thrusting the plate of cookies towards me, wanting me to take the gift he was offering me.  In the dream he never once spoke a word to me nor I to him, but I was quickly reminded of the gleeful generosity he would have when gifting me.  I was immediately drawn to our connection.  I could feel the love.  I woke up.

The next two nights I was  again  dreaming of he and I but I don’t remember the dreams.

However, having these dreams is pulling me back into another time….that I had successfully left…. I thought.

Two days ago I made the “mistake”  of watching the Picture/Music video we had prepared and shown at Loren’s Memorial Service.  I hadn’t watched it in months.  I was invaded with warm thoughtful memories.

Yesterday morning  I woke up, feeling drawn to watch the same video again.  But that time, it slammed me. The memories were not “happy”…. only because it was suddenly too painful to remember.  The sense of separation was searing.

Watching TV couldn’t distract the loss.  Mowing the lawn couldn’t distract the pain.  Paying the bills couldn’t distract the emptiness.  The only thing that saved me was my co-widow friend, Eileen,  randomly calling me….I had been on her mind yesterday…. we met in  Albany for dinner.  THAT is what broke me out of the savage feeling of being caged.

This morning I was outside kneeling….staining the deck.  I swear I felt his presence as if he was standing near me.  I actually looked up to see if he was really there, well knowing I wouldn’t be able to actually see him, but I believe I felt him there.  Hot torrents of tears coursed down my face and neck.  Per chance Loren could hear me, I said, “Don’t EVER stop checking in on me because I was starting to forget how we felt together.”

……and, the truth that I am starting to forget details about him is undeniably tragic…..I  had purposed to never –  ever forget the nuances that made him special.

Those dreams were wonderful vivid reminders but, today,  memories don’t feel like they are enough.  I’m trusting today will be easier since I’m caring for my 4 year old grandson, Lincoln.

“YOU,  Loren,  ARE MISSING FROM ME.”   Even when I’m doing great.  Even at 4 years and 4 months out.

BIRTHDAYS, LIGHTBULBS, and MOMENTUM

 

Technically, we didn’t even celebrate his Birthday-in-Heaven this year, compared to last years restaurant hopping with the fam by going to two Shari’s Restaurants (Salem and McMinnville, both) within the same day to eat his favorite Marionberry pie.  We didn’t celebrate his Birthday this year, as we did for two Birthdays, by eating his favorite chocolate cake with chocolate icing. One year  I had been in the hospital for 14 days, and it was on Loren’s Birthday that my brother, Dennis, and his wife, Linda, helped me leave the hospital…and drove me to my parents house so I could recover there with extended out-of-state family.  This year, we certainly spoke of Loren’s Birthday and remembered him and, somehow , THAT seemed to be enough.

You could say, “One more light bulb was turned on”…. at least in my heart.

 

INSIDE OF MYSELF,  somehow,  I DIDN’T:

  • Need to PROVE that I miss him
  • Need to DO something to demonstrate my love for him (I did that for years, he was an acts-of-service-kind-of-guy)
  • Need to STICK TO my pre-made plans (I’m starting to feel like I need less control of my circumstances)

The day before his Birthday,  I did not go to town for the Holiday festivities, as planned.  As soon as my eyes opened in the morning, I instinctively knew I’d feel too lonely so I chose to not set myself up  for pain.  Instead, I left the town that I love and drove 60 miles to another family gathering at my cousin’s farm. It was THERE  that I found lots of laughter and great connection with my Kropf cousins, aunt and uncle, siblings, mom and newly-made-friends… and when I arrived home by 11 pm I felt complete and satisfied.

This year I was motivated to (again) continue the tradition of inviting the Gingerich clan out to the ranch to roast hotdogs and marshmallows over an open fire, ride quads on the upper back trails, and shoot ‘em up for hours until dark… (the 1st two years after he passed the kids and I just couldn’t make ourselves follow through with the week-of-his-Birthday-tradition that Loren had started….it’s like we needed the ranch to remain as “our place”…. because he unexpectedly passed away there, our emotional bands were tight and protective….we had shared a life changing crisis there at the ranch, together).

You could say, “Yet another light bulb was turned on”This year I discovered how a deeper contentment occurred because I was sharing the ranch.  Interestingly enough, Brenna had asked me, “Did you feel anxious about having all of these people out today?” I gave a quick answer, “No…this felt natural and right”.

This year, it was on Loren’s BIRTHDAY that I admitted:

  • There are some traditions I will want to continue in his absence
  • There are more traditions I may never do again
  • Maybe, just maybe, I’ll become comfortable with new things.
  • Maybe, just maybe, I’ll become brave and take a long  road trip by myself (for me, that’ll be a sign that I’ve conquered life).

All I can say is, “Julia, you’ve come a long way, baby”.

MY Sweet PLACE and Men who this Widow can Count ON

June of 2019 had been the catalyst of re-ignition. That is, reigniting my sense of accomplishment,  especially when sharing it with good men while working on the property.  And boy, it all came back to me….that is, remembering how much I loved working outside with men, even as I had done as a child, wanting to be near my father and two brothers on our grass-seed farm.

 In 2015,  some of my adult children had told me, “Mom, we will come out and help you…just DON’T sell the ranch!!!”  As time has passed, they’ve had well-meaning intentions but the fact is (1) they work full time jobs, some of them work two jobs (2) they have families and/or do not live near me.

 

 I loved working on this land with Loren……actually, it started 30 plus years ago when mowing for Loren’s dad on this exact land…I enjoyed driving the back trails with him as he shared his vision for the property….all while he still owned the undeveloped land that Loren and I ended up purchasing from him.  Afterwards, Loren and I thrived in our pioneering adventure.  To stay on top of the up-keep, two Saturday  afternoons a month (year ‘round rain or shine) we’d each hop on our ol’- farm-work-horse quads, hooked up to trailers, go back into the trails and trim vegetation, shovel out overflowing ditches, gather firewood, and end up sitting on a log somewhere in the forest and talk about random “out there” dreams of special ways to improve the place.

In 2016 I had hired 3 teenage farm boys to help split firewood.  Not only did I have to oversee every minuet thing they did (or didn’t do), I quickly realized my husband had been out-working 3 young whippersnappers at the snap of his fingers.   Thankfully, I had never taken his raw strength and willpower for granted but at that moment I was thrown in to the thoughts of, “What will I do without him here?

For two years I did my best, mostly with daughters Jasmine and Brenna helping,  (Brianne and Jasper a few times) doing  “the big stuff” (chainsaws, gutters, moss killer on the roofs) that Loren and I would’ve done together.  On my own, I still spray the Round-up, maintain the landscaping, mow the lawns, move wood and do the basic up-keep on the buildings.

BUT,  in 2018 I gave myself permission to STOP FEELING GUILTY  over the need to hire Loren’s two retired friends, Marvin and Dan, to mow the back fields, keep the back trails open, fall blow-down trees, prune trees that are growing over road ways, clean out the culverts,  spray the poison oak and Scotch Broom and the list goes on and on.  Dan can outwork 3 teenage boys at age 65.  Marv is a strong workhorse at age 77.

Loren’s faithful dog, Lucky, who passed away 3 years after him…Lucky went everywhere with us and watched  as we worked.

Simply put, everything feels right when these friends are out working on the ranch with me.  They are good men with beautiful wives to share life with, their children and grandchildren too…those loving relationships to nurture on their home-fronts.

Maybe it “feels so right” because they are long-time friends who have remained friends in Loren’s absence…..men who haven’t cleared out because I am single.    I trust them.   My children know them and trust them.  Most importantly,   my children and the men trust me.  Which is priceless.

It’s THIS that makes peace flow my way…knowing that ultimately everything is alright…knowing I have people on my side in a world that at times still feels harsh.

It’s awesome to have my sweet spot.  My place.

P.S.  Thank you dear father, TF, and my dear brothers, Galen and Dennis, for being the good, dependable men that you are!

FRieNdS and Widows, SHRINES and OpiNioNs. Chapter 3.

  • “Be careful to not build a shrine of him”.
  • “You have to be careful. Don’t let these pictures become an idol!”
  • “You know, Julia, he’s gone now”.

These exact quotes have been spoken by two causal friends who have visited my home, never having been in my home before Loren passed…..and I might add, friends who have not lost a spouse by death.   And, yes, the vocal opinions are part of the friendship package since these ladies are quite vocal.   🙂

Today, I googled Websters Dictionary for the definition of a shrine.  I am faaaaaar from having “a shrine” because we all know Loren was not diety nor was he a saint.  Now, the definition of “an idol”….there might be something to it….  I grew to greatly  admire, love, and (in a way) revere him….(that’ll be an interesting topic to write about in the future)….

RE:  MY SHRINE:  I have a group of three photos of Loren and I sitting on an end table along a wall.  One, a wedding photo. One, a photo of Loren and I participating in a vow renewal service at church, for multiples of couples, 25 years ago.  The last picture,  Loren and I in 2014. On a wall in a nearby alcove there hangs a very large picture of Loren, the same picture that was at the front of the church during his Memorial Service.

On another end table 4 feet away is a photo of Loren, myself, our children and grandkids….this photo was taken 8 months prior to his passing, amazingly enough, on his 60th birthday.  (Loren had strategically placed this photo so he could see the photo as he walked through the living room towards our bedroom).

On the grand piano, 20 feet away, sits a photo of Loren and his mother (two loved ones who are now in heaven).  There are also photos of two daughters and their weddings, with other random family photos (ALL pictures taken since he’s passed).

Should you visit my home and think I have a shrine, you need to know:

  • A few months before he unexpectedly passed, Loren had been saying, “We do NOT have ENOUGH pictures of our family displayed in our house” (to him, photos on the computer and cell phone were not adequate and I had become lax on displaying photos).
  • Loren was the one who voluntarily went to Goodwill and Target, in one evening, and purchased close to 10 photo frames and brought them home.
  • I then painted the picture frames.
  • We, together, placed pictures of the family in the great room.
  • My husband was a sentimental man. He carried pictures of each of the kids and grandkids in his wallet and proudly showed them to others.

And really, who’s business is it anyways to suggest how many photos a person should or should not have in their home?  Is not my home my place to enjoy?  And (to defend myself) I am not stuck in time (as far as my home goes).  I have redecorated my Master Bedroom.  I have reorganized rooms and am in the process of sorting things, still.  I have brought out pretty things that women typically enjoy (I had them boxed up for years) and now display them in my dining room….and, yes…. an almost smirk-ish smile STILL comes on my face when I think of the “idol and shrine” comments.   But I will choose to continue friendship with these ladies and learn to practice “speaking up”  instead of “reacting” in speechlessness… that is, when I hear random opinions that I wouldn’t believe to be the gospel truth…..for me.

I must tell you, though, Loren would be ELATED that I still have a “shrine” of he and our family.  Makes me giddy happy just thinkin’ about it.  WHY HADN’T I DONE THIS SOONER? 

 

FRIENDS and the WIDOW. Beliefs about Burial. CHAPTER 2.

  • “WHAT?   You haven’t buried him in the ground yet?    That’s horrible!      He can’t rest in peace until you do!”
  • “You should’ve never cremated him!   What about the resurrection?”
  • “His spirit is restless because he hasn’t been laid to rest”.

Yes, these are exact quotes that casual friends, of different religions,  have said to me.

As a young Mennonite child it was common procedure going to multiples of funerals…even walking by open caskets of people I didn’t know (I hated that)!  As an adult musician, I professionally sang and played keyboard for multiples of funerals…being weekly hired by three prominent Funeral Homes in Salem, Oregon.  Being hired to provide a service to families in grief, I mostly was able to separate myself from the pain the families must’ve been feeling.  In addition, I sang at Loren’s parent’s Services and brother-in-law Max’s Memorial Service,  other Wasson family members,  3 of my grandparent’s Funerals, and my first cousin’s 16 year old sons Funeral, but even in that sadness,  things were different…………I hadn’t yet been the spouse sitting on that front row.

From day #1 of marrying Loren, he was VERY VOCAL about wanting to be cremated,  even though cremation was not yet common in the late ‘70’s.  He was known to say, “Caskets take up too much space in the ground, it’s ridiculous to spend thousands of dollars on funerals, and I WON’T BE THERE ANYWAYS BECAUSE I’LL ALREADY BE HOME”.

Now, at that time, I did NOT agree with him regarding cremation!!  I’d immediately respond, “You’d better put your wishes in writing because I’m not sure I can cremate you”.  However, many years later I watched a descriptive four – hour documentary on Funeral Home Procedures.  It was then, I immediately assured Loren I’d respect his wishes.

I’ve come-to-the-conclusion that whether it be  cremation, boxes or beautiful urns, cheap caskets, expensive caskets, open caskets, closed caskets, vaults, burial in the ground, burial in a wall.…. the majority of decisions are based on one of these five:  preference, honor of the loved ones wishes, tradition, religion or finances.

I have no regrets.  I DID THE RIGHT THING!  I’ll go a step further and say I HONORED HIM.  I honored Loren in life AND in death.

That dreadful, shock-filled morning, after the coroner and fire chief were leaving our home,  my children,  along with my brother Galen and my mother,  Loren’s sisters Joyce and Janet,  close friend Carole, and friend and Chaplain, Pastor Connie,  had all gathered to be with me…..we had our 5 hours with Loren in the house before the mortuary workers took his body away.  Even though I was in deep shock, I clearly understood this would be the last time I’d see my love.  I held on to him…. laid close beside him on the hardwood floor.  But as his body no longer felt normal it was time to let him go.  Nature was taking its course…..and I couldn’t reverse time…..

The day we went to the mortuary to pick up Loren’s ashes  my three daughters and I still spoke our relief that we had not had to choose a casket, burial clothes or pallbearers when making arrangements for his Memorial Service.

To this date Loren’s ashes are in a special place in my home.   I’m drawing closer to the thought of burying a portion of the ashes  in our-already-purchased-plot in the cemetery.   At that time, I’ll have a private gathering of close friends and family as we commit his remains  to the  ground under Loren and Julia’s joint headstone that I’ll have had made.  One of our daughters is looking forward to having  a place to take flowers to…for a time of private remembrance.

But,  IT’S NOT TIME…..from the very beginning, my kids and I have discussed doing one or some of the following:

#1.  Divide the ashes.  Put them into lockets.  #2.  Divide the ashes.  Make hand-blown glassware with them.  #3.  To honor Loren’s wishes,  make ammunition with some of his ashes and then shoot them out of his gun (for years, he’d made it clear he’d want this done with his ashes)!

AND,  if he knows what we are doing he’ll be grinning that huge grin from ear to ear.   😊

…but somehow I think my kids and I are acutely aware that taking this next step may bring more sorrow than we’d hope to face, again.  As far as following through with our ideas, we’ve agreed that it’ll be Jasmine and I who will divide the ashes……and YES!…at this  moment I’m pondering if I would’ve regretted having buried all of his ashes immediately after his passing…. you know, there’s something to be said about making life “easier”. 

I’m LiVing in 3 WoRLds and Will I Ever FIT IN?

Today at 4 years and 1  1/2 months out,  I alarmingly realized I am living in 3 worlds and haven’t yet accomplished living in “one” world.  Will I ever?  Am I even supposed to?

The “3 Worlds” that I find myself floating between, beside, under, above or IN are:

  • “THE PAST” that I lived with Loren.
  • “THE PRESENT” which I didn’t choose or hope for.
  • “THE FUTURE” with one foot (my heart) in Heaven and still “THE FUTURE”… continuing on as I am…as a widow.   Other than enjoying the consistency of my job for the Willamina School District and teaching my private piano and private voice students,  I often feel   I.   DON’T.   FIT.   IN. 

    1.  As  a single person I struggle to fit in at church.  Who does a person sit with?  Does every other single person hate arriving and leaving by themselves?  Does every other single person hate the unknown plans after leaving church, whether they will be eating by themselves or with family or friends?  And then, am I the only person who can HARDLY  WAIT to get home after that? …to that place that feels most comfortable, where I can control my  “internal peace meter”.

    2. Because of extenuating circumstances I no longer have the privilege of serving on a worship team…the one place, since I was in my teens, where I flourished and felt revived.  I no longer have that one free night a week to drive and dedicate those hours of rehearsal.  And now, these few years of crying uncountable tears has basically thrashed the once-controlled-voice.

3.  Even though all of my adult children (and spouses)  are simply wonderful to me, sometimes I still feel like  I.  DO.  NOT.  FIT.  IN.   It’s a quandry where I often feel torn:

  • Feeling disgusted at myself that I even notice  how I feel, telling myself that I should be highly grateful to see my children being happy, that they are  even wanting to spend time with me.
  • Feeling grateful that somehow Loren’s death has meaningfully strengthened familial relationships and our adoration toward each other.
  • Feeling deliberate to put that smile on my face and do my best to join in the current festivity because I am all too aware I will be returning to my silent abode.
  • Feeling happy to be with my family yet sometimes feeling dreadfully alone with them.

Can I just become Superman and unwind my life back to 4 years and 1  1/2 months ago?…  but that doesn’t seem quite right to be selfish…to go back in time, assuming I had the power to change the course of events…to do that would mean my incredible grandson Lincoln would never have been born….that my two glorious son-in-laws may not be part of our family….which would mean 3 of my 4 children may not be where THEY are at today (with the “happiness meter”, I mean).

I now see, this blog has been very therapeutic.  Yes, for the ultimate good of everyone I believe I must target more contentment….that is,  choosing to somehow thrive in the world I am now placed in, even if I never feel like I’m living in “one world”.

 

 

 

I. DON’T. WANT. TO. RE-START. MY. LIFE!

I’ve been on two awkward “let’s-meet-on-a-specific-date-at-a-specific-time-at-a-specific-place”.  They were supposed to be friends catching up.  Granted, it felt good for someone(s)….whom I already knew… to pay attention to me.  But, I immediately  felt miserable.   I felt as if I was playing a game.  This was fun when I was 19.  Let’s face it.  I am too old to play games.  And the hardcore truths are, “My heart is  still ‘twitterpated’ for my deceased husband” and “I don’t believe I’ll ever get over him”.

                                                A few weeks back I had an ah-ha confirmation!

                                            I.  DON’T.   WANT.  TO.  RE-START.   MY.  LIFE!  

But you need to know, there is this VERY REAL spoken AND unspoken expectation that I should NEED to “move on”….to “start over”…as if there is something WRONG with a widow who doesn’t!!

The vivid alone-ness, and, yes, very much missing all of the perks of marriage,  is NOT propelling me towards the pursuit of finding another….

Instead, I’m discovering I’m finding “my own new life” in the EXACT place where I experienced a full, meaningful life with Loren:

  • Sleeping in our four-poster bed, the exact bed we slept in for 37 years.
  • Sitting in his oversized leather chair and driving his commuter car to work.
  • Working at his oversized desk, now moved into a different room and re-arranged in the way I need it to be.
  • Enjoying the house we designed and built. Still admiring and protecting the cedar logs he cut and milled for those seven years.  Appreciating the floors that he milled and laid.  I pass through the doorways and look through the windows and their beautiful trim that he milled and mounted.  I sit and look upward at those amazing purlins and tongue and groove ceilings that he milled…those beautiful cedar decks he milled.
  • I view  the out-buildings that I designed…that he then cut and milled the lumber before he built.  What a gifted, hardworking man (there’s very few men like him)!
  • Everything on this land revolves around memories. Fun times and very difficult times but those honest memories represent the 23 years of being good stewards of the land God had allowed us to own/manage together.
  • I’d be a fool to leave!  Together, we pioneered this place from the ground up  (and the truth is I also am not ready to grieve one more time…….). 

I’m going to forge ahead, continue on, and make progress.  I am stronger.  I am gaining self-confidence.  I’ve ‘got’ God, my gun, and my family and I’m not afraid to live by my self.  I now see,  I am growing thru grief!

 

FRIENDS of the WIDOW. The HARD QUESTIONS. CHAPTER 1.

My married friends (couples Loren and I were friends with) have impacted my life since Loren’s passing. The majority have been with me through thick and thin.  It’s true, periodically  I feel like I am the odd man out.  It’s possible I’ll always feel that.

Last Saturday one of Loren’s best friends  teared up when he randomly mentioned, “Now TWO of my best friends have up and died on me.”  It touched my heart deeply to see how Dan still misses Loren.

I gratefully recognize I have not found a level of betrayal some widows feel  they experience, that is, where “couple friends”, and sometimes the deceased spouse’s own family,  no longer associate with the living spouse who is left behind after a death.

BUT IN ALL HONESTY, I DID initially notice a layer of hesitancy..withdrawal..especially from two of the wives.   I believe it was because I GRIEVED SO HARD for the first three years.  In retrospect I WONDER:

1.     DID THE FRIENDS FEEL HELPLESS?

  • Did they feel uncomfortable when I suddenly broke down and sobbed?
  • Did I seem like a stranger?
  • Were the dynamics of the relationship suddenly changed?
  • Did they understand I didn’t know what would help me? Were they frustrated because they couldn’t fix it?
  • Did they sense I was uncomfortable in all social settings? (however, I DID love visiting with a husband/wife when they came to visit me in my home).

2. DID THE FRIENDS BECOME FEARFUL OF LOSING THEIR OWN SPOUSE?

  • Did being around me force them to acknowledge what they may go through?
  • Did it force them to look at the other part of their marriage vows, “Til death do us part”?
  • Did my heavy grief cause them to feel overwhelmed?

3.   WERE “BIG UNCOMFORTABLE” QUESTIONS SURFACING BECAUSE A MARRIED PEER  PASSED BEFORE THEY WERE “OLD”? 

(Some of the questions might be):

  • Should I be the one to die first, would my spouse, children, and grandchildren stop missing me and no longer talk about me?
  • Would they deeply mourn my death?
  • Would they get rid of my things and make “me disappear” to hopefully ease their pain?
  • Would my spouse remarry and how soon?
  • Would my parents, brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews tell stories about me and not be afraid to mention my name at family gatherings? Even years later?
  • Would people do something meaningful on a given day of each year to remember me and honor me, how I had lived and dwelt with them?

I DO know I’ve been blessed to have positive reinforcement from my tribe!  I’ve been told:

  • “I’ve been comforted seeing how deeply you have continued to love Loren”.
  • “I’m pleased you haven’t tried to find someone else to fill the dark void”.
  • “Loren would be so proud how you’ve handled things”.
  • “Loren would be so proud of the good decisions you’ve made in business matters”.
  • “Even though we miss him we haven’t lost you”.
  • “You know, he still loves you.”

☹ …choke…sob….NOW the tears are surprisingly flowing….gkg..uhmmmmm….. but, I surely must say, “God, THANK YOU 😊 for my faithful friends who have not been afraid to remain in my life”.

 

WE don’t GRIEVE as Others DO and WE don’t DATE as Others DO

On January 16th this unexpected, unanticipated emphatic phrase RESOUNDED in me…

“WE DON’T GRIEVE AS OTHERS DO AND WE DON’T DATE AS OTHERS DO”.

The context of the resounding statement came mere hours after telling Mary about an acquaintance of Loren & I… about my heart surprisingly battling with the rationale of this man after he contacted me (again), telling me that I “NEED TO HAVE FUN”….this time, he inviting me to meet him for dinner.  Me, of course, feeling flattered that he is contacting me.  Me IMMEDIATELY recalling how (a few years before Loren passed) Loren had hesitated and said, “I…don’t…know…I’m… not sure… about that” (after I had commented to Loren how this same work associate of his was SUCH a nice man).

Those words that came from Loren’s mouth that day have been re-playing through my mind!   Even though his response to my comment happened six years ago, I am 100% sure I am  to listen and take heed.

See, I’ve been recalling how Loren had insight in areas where I did not…whereas I  had insight in areas HE did not!  O, I miss this gift.  The gift of balance. The gift of a lengthy seasoned marriage where time does its magic…blending and mixing…where the two know each other better than any other live person on earth.

TWO INCIDENCES OF LOREN’S PERCEPTIONS COME TO MIND: 

  • When a lady I was mentoring was slowly wearing me down because I hadn’t kept solid boundaries in time management and/or bringing her struggles into my daily life. He was right.  I had not been diligent.  And it was affecting me… greatly.
  • When a person, who was not supporting my leadership, had a hidden agenda. He was right.  Not suspicious.  He saw clearly through the smoke.

It’s in THESE types of possible future scenarios where I fear I’ll be a “fish out of water”.

Back to dating and the poor decisions people can make….. let’s just put it this way……      “it never ceases to amaze me some of the ridiculous, desperate actions that I’ve personally witnessed other grieving people do”.

By close observation, their stories prove to have consequences most people wouldn’t wish for.  It appears their distress is now greater than mine because of the varied complications heaped upon the great loss that was first there!

And the “WE DON’T GRIEVE AS OTHER’S DO?” Undeniably, I have grieved hard.  I lost my  man whom I counted on growing old with.  And just because I believe in Heaven and have a sincere relationship with God doesn’t mean I would bypass the distress.   I have an acute awareness of  sorrow that rests beneath the surface…….and will most likely until the day I die.

I guess the one way I haven’t “grieved as others do” is by

  •  being very selective with who my close friends are
  • I “guard my heart” (spiritually, mentally, and emotionally)
  • I  protect myself (spiritually, mentally, emotionally and physically)
  • all- the- while understanding that  uncontrolled grief can cause people to do careless things they would’ve never dreamed they’d do!

And, the best thing of all?    In the far, far distance I know how my love story will end!!

P.S.  O, the guy?  I declined the invitation.  Again.  (because, it’s simple… I can read the monumental sign on his forehead that says, “I. CREATE. DRAMA”).