Telling him about my year - 2025

 Year three of a re-cap of my widowed life.  Previously I wrote this like I was talking to Mark.  But now I am writing to myself, as encouragement and a way to look back with pride at all that I have accomplished, big and small.  Was it a better year?  In some ways, yes.  But it also had challenges.

And a few tears here and there.

courtesy of my "new" therapist

January - took Christmas down, worked New Year's Day, decided I would start going and doing, continued meeting with therapist, saw dentist for teeth cleaning, took myself to a movie, started meeting with dietician, spiffed and re-stocked the kitchen pantry and added long term food storage, Spencer turned 35, started taking mental health days and using my PTO once or twice a month, saw my doc and got some lab work done, set up a puzzle table in the den, bought a smaller file cabinet and purged all the household files, thought about Mark on his birthday. Off to a strong start.

     February -  did some blog post purging, tossed ALL of my old planners, Grayson and I helped Dylan move out, set up a sewing room, had a heart CT on Valentine's Day, started going to a coffee shop to journal once a week, went to the "Mesmerize" art installation, had the house ducts cleaned, therapist started flaking out on me by cancelling and rescheduling appointments, spent a week painting and cleaning the garage.  So proud of myself!

     March - sporadic calls with therapist (no more video calls for some reason), stopped meeting with dietician, visited Umlauf Sculpture Garden, started a paint by number, took myself to a movie, worked on the taxes, volunteered with TXIWC in Buda, gave a co-worker the propane tank - the last big thing in the garage to get rid of.   Finding my way on my own.

      April - saw Chicago in concert at ACL Live, hung some heavy art in the garage (by myself!), created an art collage wall in the office, worked on the yards a bunch, sold some albums to Half Price Books, followed-up with dermatologist about hair, came home to smashed glass/broken broom courtesy of Grayson, planted some shrubs, treated the crepe myrtle, replaced the sink disposal, started meeting with a friend once a month for coffee or beer, started regular walking. Looking forward to the empty nest and creating a home just for me.

     May -  saw a science film at the Rollins Theater, had a switch in the kitchen replaced, had a yearly physical, got rid of the Baja, had a bone density test, attended Hospice Austin webinar, saw "Summertime" movie/symphony, did another paint by number, went twice to Drop-In concerts downtown, cleaned the gutters, got an oil change, worked on Memorial Day. Adding in more creativity and entertainment, handling issues.

     June - saw the eye doc, attended grief webinar, painted and repaired garage screen door, scrubbed and sealed the deck, listed some things for sale on Ebay, got a haircut, sewed some hearts for IFAQH, worked some extra hours, took photo for certification wall at work and attended tranquility luncheon, saw Stick Figure in concert. I feel confident.

     July - Saw ortho doc for right shoulder issue, saw "Waitress" at Zach Theater, bought a ladder, attended gin tasting at TW, painted sewing room, started PT for my shoulder, started weaning off antidepressant, saw dentist for teeth cleaning, started looking for new therapist, got a mammo, had leaky washer repaired, remembered Mark. Feeling the burn this month.

     August - replaced dryer duct, applied for Medicare, took dinner to Dylan, went to first book club meeting, replaced one of Brigid's tires, attended grief webinar, graduated from PT, took dinner to Spencer, Dylan and Chloe and I helped Grayson move out, reached 32 years as XR tech, neighbor's tree fell near fence with no damage (whew!), painted laundry nook, ordered a couch, major clean of guest room and bath.  Handling things - GO ME.

     September - painted guest room, painted the den, saw Jeff Goldblum at Bass Concert Hall, had hearing appt., Chloe turned 34 - took her birthday treats and decided to stop pestering her about visits, went to book club meeting, got my flu shot, saw a chiropractor for shoulder.  By now the therapist had "dropped" his clients, including me, so I started with a new therapist. I will not be defeated by change.

     October - sold some stuff on Ebay, moved leather couch to garage with Dylan's help, new couch arrived, power washed the back patio, follow-up with dermatologist and ortho doc, met with Edward Jones guy, attended book club meeting, got a haircut, attended grief zoom, saw "Star Wars" movie/symphony, attended grief webinar, took myself to another movie, cashed out some PTO, Dylan turned 30, saw Black Violin in concert, sold the black and white chairs, got Grayson off my car insurance. Tying up loose ends and it feels so great.

     November - book club, Brigid oil change, ordered wood delivery, repainted master bedroom, visited with Dylan, spoke to Pete about Mom's estate, decided to stop with the grief books and webinars, attended tranquility lunch at work, bought Thanksgiving tobacco for Mark's pipes, attended 2 book club meetings, went to a Georgian wine tasting at Total Wine, saw science movie at Rollins theater, donated blood, picked up Turkey Trot packet, got Tiff's Treats, visit from Chloe with birthday treats, did a bunch of food prep, had busy and fun Thanksgiving. Feeling happier than I have in a long time.

     December - saw my PCP for blood pressure follow-up, saw a movie out, moved all my plants to the garage (by myself!), had lunch with a friend at a brewery, mailed two Christmas cards, went to a spirits class at Total Wine, saw "Home Alone" movie/symphony, started photo project, mailed box of photos to MK, filled stockings, attended Christmas Eve services at St. Luke's, worked Christmas morning and spent time with peeps, Grayson turned 27, had last appointment with "new" therapist after much progress.  Looking forward to a new year, new goals.

What lights the fire?

This post is very similar to the previous post - it weighs heavily on my mind, I guess.      

I had a conversation with someone and told her I was drawing a big blank where the answer in my mind should live: what do I want to do in my future?  So we talked about all of the things I enjoyed when I was young and unmarried - writing, reading, word puzzles, sewing.  But my overriding wish when I was a child was to be a mom.  This seemed like a natural choice to me.  But it turns out, it probably was a deep-seated desire to do something differently and better than my mother did.   To provide a home that was loving and clean, with fresh food and decent clothes, opportunity, tradition, and hope. Something I always wanted for myself.  Seems odd to say, but with all of the children she had, turns out she wasn't really a fan of children.

     Ironically, I eventually went into the same field she did - Radiography.  I knew I needed a skill and good job to help raise the family Mark and I were building. I hunkered down and did the work, making it through school with good grades while battling financial hardships, working part-time, and raising two small children.  I have been doing it longer than Mom did (32 years) at this point. 

     It was never a "calling" for me; it was a way to help provide my family with what we needed  I was able to attain health insurance, a retirement account, and income.  My hours made it possible for me to be at home with my kids during the week for summers and school breaks, eliminating the need for daycare. It was a means to an end, and I do a good job at it, but it doesn't light a fire under me. I thought that as soon as the last one left home, I would be really and truly free to retire.

Then Mark died.

That was 4 years ago.  But is that a reason to stay put?

And now, how do I discover something that does light that fire?  

Just over here on Widow Island...

...mulling over life and the future.

 

I popped into Hobby Lobby, intending to get some supplies to make a Pottery Barn knockoff ornament, but instead bought Christmas cards and an ornament for my bedroom tree.  While I was standing in line, a woman recognized me and called over from another waiting line.  She and I used to work at the same hospital and were work buddies for a short time.  She asked how my family was - not sure if she knew about Mark - and if I had retired. (doing well, and no)  Then told me that she and her hubby have been traveling a lot.  They had down-sized to a smaller place = no yardwork, retired, and are enjoying trips to Costa Rica as well as RV traveling.  I'm glad for them - grab life while you can.  Meanwhile, here I sit on Widow Island.  No partner, working full-time, no grandchildren, no plans to travel.  It kinda made me feel like I am doing Life all wrong.  And I feel like fate got to decide that for me because I was clueless.  As much as I want any of those things, they are not happening for me right now.  So here I sit, just before Christmas, contemplating things while I stare at the sky.  And it has me wondering: If I wanted to be somewhere else, doing something else, with someone else, how would I do that?  

So that's what I'm working on, over here on Widow Island.  If you are a widow - how did you figure out where to start?

What story does this ornament tell?

Christmas ornaments can be very sentimental and hold our memories.

I have always loved Pottery Barn Christmas ornaments - they are so beautiful.  And usually, they aren't super expensive - some of the ones I have were less than $9 each and came with free shipping.  Sometimes Mark and I would get them as a gift at his office Christmas party since the boss's wife was really into PB.  And sometimes I ordered them as Christmas gifts - especially for Chloe, as a mother/daughter Christmas tradition. They were sometimes also a once-a-year splurge for the family tree which was always styled elegantly, compared to the kid's tree.  But quite literally, I was the only one who it mattered to, and I bet my kids wouldn't even remember them.

Sometimes that's how it is with such things at your house - not every thing is meaningful to everyone who lives there.

I came across an ornament that I dubbed "the magical tree".  The year it came out, bottle brush trees were having a major moment.  They sold out pretty fast, and I remember sending a photo of this one to a friend with an excited "look what I got!" message.  Over the years I have babied the storage of this ornament, wrapping it carefully in bubble wrap and tissue paper, setting it at the top of the box so I wouldn't set something else on top of it.  I never hung it on the tree because it was "special", so it tended to live behind the glass of the china cabinet.  But what was so special about an ornament I couldn't even hang on our tree?

I feel like this ornament tells a story of valuing things over experiences and people.  Over making Christmas into a pursuit and accumulation of more stuff that is pretty, but not necessarily useful or even memorable.  It made me feel nothing when I saw it, so I wasn't going to set it out anywhere this year.  Then I decided to just hang it on the tree, stop prizing it so much (if it breaks, it breaks), and think about what I truly want to feel and experience this Christmas.

Maybe this tree was a literal message to me in a bottle.

You don't have to invite him to your holidays

 This was a Big Realization.

{I had this conversation with the therapist, too.}

I asked Chloe what she would think about me hanging Dad's stocking along with everyone else's this year.  She asked me if I were "in crisis".  So that got me to thinking: she is probably in a healthy place, allowing grief to live within the Christmas season.  Why shouldn't I?  Its impossible to include someone who is no longer here.

So why would I hang a stocking?

For years, Mark was central to my Christmas. But I do not have to continue to include some homage to him -  a sentimental "Dad" gift (a mug with his picture on it, for example), a dish he would have wanted (no more ham balls!), a tradition he insisted upon (a real tree we all cut down).  And I can honor him any way I choose.  Although I could be somewhat snarky about this and say that I am doing so by living my fu*king life, I will do these things to remember him at this time of year as he was part of 40 of my Christmases:

*put a framed photo of him on my tree

*continue the Christmas traditions we set as new parents (stockings, for example)

*keep using the 1972 tree

*go to the church we married in and say a prayer for him

*hug my children which are the four best things we ever did

But the rest of whatever I do for Christmas will be based on what Gina wants.  It doesn't have to be complicated and I feel like this prolonged grief has made it so.  So as I work to untangle that, its a good idea to keep moving on with life.  And its Ok not to invite him to my Christmas this year.