The Pulled Sunday Post
Yesterday was a really hard day. Somehow I got through it. The second anniversary of becoming a widow felt gut wrenching, lonely, isolated, desolate- even around people. I'm truly going to be alone the rest of my life and accepting that conclusion hit hard. Every damn thing is on me. The mudding, sanding and repainting of the wall where we had the temporary plumbing fix three years ago screams at me every time I walk up the stairs. Figuring what lightbulb the porch needs because of course it burns out on a cold January night when I have family coming over, on my list. Every corner of the house has a project or a problem to fix and the running list is on two notebook pages and each week more is added than crossed off. Dealing with a probable cell phone fraud issue that'll probably cost me $1400, mine to deal with. I knew all this for two years, but didn't truly feel this is now my plot in life. I hate what my life has become, but suck it up I must.
As depressing as this last paragraph was, the unpublished version was absolutely seething. I railed against the world. I mentally cut people out of my life for having too perfect of a life and no decency to not wave that perfection in my face. I wrote about throwing my cell phone in the dumpster so I didn't have to read another message with praying hand emojis, probably sent before walking out the door for a nice Saturday night dinner with their spouse and with other couples. I mourned and pouted for the extended family with grandchildren I may never have, frustrated why that I'm denied multi generational love to help get though the pain. I wrote about crying myself dry, both from missing my husband, but missing being part of two, and truly growing old together. Instead, I wrote, I just get to grow old.
All that is true and I'm still sad, but I still woke up this morning. I guess I'm glad for that. I've got books, there's a bakery nearby, and pets that need love. Such is my life.
Sam, I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say.
ReplyDeleteThe version of life we thought we would have is truly a bitter pill to swallow when it is taken from us. There is no amount of prayers, sorry's or our thoughts are with you that makes it any better. I have so much empathy for what you are going through and it's truly heart breaking all the pain and anguish you are experiencing. You surly will find some joy along this journey of life. All you can to is to embrace whatever happiness you find along the way and know its also okay to still grieve what was lost forever.
ReplyDeleteJust to let you know you are not alone in what you just wrote. I, too, live the life you described. There are good days and sometimes weeks,…. last night was a night of tears and a puffy face this morning. You are lucky that you have your children…..I have absolutely no one. So take joy in what you do have….i try every day…. I am grateful for all that I have but when it is all your decision and on your shoulders it can be so overwhelming. I just wish the better days were more often. I cried 2 weeks ago when someone took my trash can to the curb…….such a little thing that someone did for me……I guess I’m pretty pathetic. You have been in my prayers….stay positive….retirement is great, at least the work pressure and responsibility is gone.
ReplyDeleteI don’t have any amazing advice or magic words, i can’t pretend to know what you’re dealing with but I’m here for you. We’re all here for you. You can rant, dream, wish, cry and we’ll listen. I am truly sorry for your loss. JoAnn
ReplyDeleteNo words, just heartfelt support. You have lost so much and unfortunately you have learned that it is so easy for others to cover that with platitudes and well-meaning but clueless comments. And there is no shame in putting the phone face down.........
ReplyDeleteIt's shit, it's awful and I have no advice to offer you. If you lived nearby I'd drag you out, take you for a walk and we'd sit in the pub beside a fire with a bottle of wine. xxx
ReplyDeleteHey Vix
DeletePerhaps we can all do that when Sam visits me in November ? Siobhan x
Yeah, it suck, Suck, SUCKS, doesn’t it? If I was closer I would pop in with a bottle of wine and some fresh baked bread with fancy cheese, and rant along with you.
ReplyDeleteAnd fuck those praying hand emojis. God, those things infuriate me. Pious assholes.
Ooops, -Meg B. (I like to own my profanity!)
DeleteAll your feelings are so valid. I agree with Lorraine, you will find joy in time, you are on this journey and while you may feel alone (valid feeling) I hope the days that you feel loved, outweigh the days you feel alone. *hugs*
ReplyDeleteSo very sorry Sam. I hope you do find a spark of happiness, even if just a smile.
ReplyDeleteYes it sucks big time. As others have said - it does get easier - never gone - but easier. I am happy that I have a few friends, family and fur babies to make me smile.
ReplyDeleteTake care sweet lady and just know you can vent to all of us.
If I had magic words to ease the pain I'd say them, for you, your children , me and others I know who are grieving. But I'm at a loss for words besides these little ones. Be kind to yourself, in whatever form that takes. And rant and rage if you need to.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this and not writing it/finding it 'bad' to print. I hope writing it helps. "I had a hard day; somehow I got through it" is a good summary of why it's good to write. Good for you !
ReplyDeleteNo great words to say. It's good that you're writing it down and not trying to plaster over everything and say you're okay.
ReplyDeleteThis is a wonderful community you have gathered here Sam - and lots of messages where people really do understand when you write about your life now . Like others have said , I wish I could help - I can’t change anything ( and believe me I would if I could - for both of us ) but I can say thank you for describing what so many of us feel when we lose the person we expected to get old with - the person we could go on adventures with , or do nothing with - our person . Irreplaceable. And life can never be the same . But I know I am grateful every day for the hand of friendship you extend to me
ReplyDeleteSending love , Siobhan x
I read your blog regularly and you inspire me.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry. My sister said mourning the loss of a spouse grows into simultaneously realizing the mourning of the planned future that will not happen which, for her, was almost more painful.
ReplyDeleteLike others, I have no magic words to say. I do understand one of the anonymous posters who said, "such a little thing that someone did for me…". I totally understand that as I've been alone for many years now and feel very deeply when someone comes to help me do something. My heart goes out to you, Sam. This is not an easy road to travel.
ReplyDelete*hug*
ReplyDeleteHugs. I am not a widow but I do understand about being alone and everything being on you, since I am single.It is ok to vent bc it is your reality. I wish you self love, and peace. Cindy in the South
ReplyDelete