Widowing

It is a verb with a number of synonyms! Running, hurrying, reversing, notifying, accepting, removing, weeping, laughing, sorting...and the list continues as I widow! I never aspired to participate in this process. It is a lonely journey. No one can travel this path for me.  Waking in the morning to reach over to touch a scruff covered cheek and feeling an empty pillow instead, no longer startles me. A year ago I knew this might soon be my future. Still I struggle to widow.  How does one widow well? There is a certain joy in knowledge that the other verb, marry, was accomplished or perhaps survived, celebrated and endured. It seems strange to no longer be half of a pair. A certain freedom comes with time that is only mine. No one must agree with any plan I might choose. 

Bye Bye Bruce!

Bruce had to go!  The brown car I liked so much was hit from behind twice, then from the front only a few weeks later. The minor damage to the front bumper was repaired posthaste, and Son, DIL and Potty Mouth Adopted Daughter, (better known as PMAD) ganged up on me to find an immediate replacement. Son called his favorite car sales person and searched my best options for availability. I grudgingly agreed to go drive a car or two after my cardmaking class last Friday.  Meanwhile I quizzed drivers of comparable models and was more confused. I didn't want to buy a car, I didn't want to drive Bruce anymore!  Oh what to do!

...and then I met Miss Kitty. She is that soft sparkly white that I once admired on a luxury SUV, with options I never knew I wanted, that have now become necessary.  How quickly that happens. Now I can relax and stop worrying about what to drive! Miss Kitty just purrs.

Walk!

Walking is a skill I’ve taken for granted as long as my memory stretches. At times I have mangled various parts of my lower extremities and needed the assistance of crutches. A few weeks ago I discovered my hamstring violently.  Never again will I assume that getting out of my seat and ambulating is a given. That muscle (using the singular lightly) surrounds the entire back of the leg wrapping like the string used to encase a large ham.  Recovering the strength in that muscle pack will be my current mission.  As my leg slowly returns to its natural color, the time spent sitting on an ice bag decreases exponentially.  Appreciation for the ability to simply stand up will be offered preceding my first steps every time.  Perhaps the count on my Fitbit will sparkle and congratulate me at the end of the day. 

Texas Two Step

Two steps forward, one step back and repeat.   Possibly the simplest dance step ever, easily accomplished with little practice and music played in two four time with a firm beat. Anyone residing in Texas has had an opportunity to practice this dance often if exposed to nightlife in the Lone Star State.  I’m changing my version of the two step these days.  One  body part healed and two more mangled.  Icing a strained hamstring is no easy task, but standing from the discomfort of a sitting position makes my knees pop and groan. Steps moving forward are gingerly and seem to require a reverse two step...or maybe a shuffle. Most of my day is spent in slow motion.

My granddog is visiting this weekend.  Belle enjoys having another voice to sing for her supper...or breakfast.  My current state of mobility makes my movement slow and clumsy. I’m lucky that my bum wrist is healed well enough to wield a crutch to assist from my seat.  Speedy moves would please these pups, but they quickly get happy when their dinner bowls are filled and placed before them.

I attended the opening performance of “Oklahoma” last night at the Performing Arts Center of our local high school.  I know many of the players and was allowed to see a rehearsal, hearing many stories as the final product gelled! All their hard work was evident. Dancing Girl, Guitar Man, her cousin and I arrived in time to find our seats right next to a couple from their neighborhood. Yes hometown entertainment is the best!

Today, after sitting nearly three hours with only a short intermission, my hamstring is clearly in reverse. 

Time to catch up...

Perhaps it is time to collect and review my thoughts more often.  The drama from my last post was a beginning of an ending.  Ol’ Abner was very ill.  I was posting frequent updates on another site for family and friends in lieu of constant phone calls. At the end of October we were advised by his oncologist to live life to the fullest every day, and don’t worry about Christmas. The man and I accepted different interpretations of that advice.  Our children circled around and embraced both versions of our concerns.  The last few months of the year involved cancelling a planned cruise and sharing an early feast with daughter’s family followed by a quiet thanksgiving with son and daughter in law. An early Christmas celebration at son and dil’s home with another small celebration at our house on Christmas Day, a day he had not expected to see. On to the new year, and we were told the following week would probably involve calling in hospice, I made anti-climactic drama of that with a wrist fracture on icy steps. Freeways were being closed due to congestion from an abundance of multi-car accidents. I awaited treatment in the emergency room amid horror stories of spinning cars making crashing noises.  Son and dil retrieved us from the hospitality of medical intervention and managed to get us safely bedded for the night. I recovered as he became more ill.  He left us less than a month later after a whirlwind of loving visitors and competent caring hospice staff flowing through our home.  My old Marine was cremated and we gathered to honor him with a beautiful wake hosted by son and dil followed by a celebration at our church the next day. Earlier this month we traveled to the city of his birth and buried his ashes. 

With a sense of quiet peace, we returned home. Son rode Harley Brown, Ol’ Abner’s motorcycle, now his. Two friends traveled on two wheels with him. As I made my final approach to turn into my little town on the lake, I felt the jarring thump of a rear end hit!
The other driver drove away after assuring me he would “take care of this”...neglecting to tell me I would have to find him first.  Our local police were as helpful as possible under the circumstances, but the next morning I took Bruce in for repairs for the second time with injury to his backside. (Maybe I should mention that we were rear-ended in November but the other driver didn’t bail on us) An attempt to rent a car was thwarted by a tumble in the parking lot. Son again had to retrieve me and after another stop at the ER, I was delivered home to nurse a strained hamstring!  RICE protocol is still in force (rest, ice, compress, elevate)...to be continued dear diary.