One is Silver and the Other’s Gold

While Dave was ill, I made some new friends. These were mainly a couple mothers of Nick’s friends. They helped me tremendously while Dave was in the hospital and then home recovering.

Now that Dave has died and I’m on my own, I’ve added to my friends. People have been very supportive of me. I’ve been very lucky to have people care for me the way they have.

Someone told me that many widows feel reluctant to make new friends, that somehow they’re not supposed to meet new people.  That seems a shame.

At least part of the reason that I continue to make new friends is that  Dave and I often socialized with different people. He was much more of a home-body so he’d stay home and I’d go out. Plus, I attended a lot more networking events and professional meetings so it doesn’t feel odd to me to be out by myself.

It’s good to made friends with women who are also widowed. There’s an understanding that not everyone has. It’s good to have people who want hike or to go see a movie with me or just go out to dinner.

You know there’s that saying about calamity letting you know who your friends are. It turns out that you have friends you didn’t even know about.

 

 

Light Bulbs

I don’t want anyone to think that the reason why I miss Dave is because he changed light bulbs but boy I sure miss Dave because he changed light bulbs. OK, there are other reasons too but every time a bulb goes out I wish he were here. I don’t know how he turned into Mr. Light Bulb Man but somehow, over the years, he did.

It’s bad enough having to change the bulb in a lamp but when I have to climb up on a stool, take down a globe and change the bulb, I’m really unhappy.

I would not be happy, if Dave were here and I was gone, to be missed because I did the laundry but I guess I would understand that small little moment of regret.

Widow Walking: A Blog

My friends are paying attention now that I’ve started this blog. I’m so happy at the response my writings have received. It’s wonderful.

Now, when I tell someone a story about Dave or what I’m doing now, I hear, “put that in your blog!” That makes me laugh though sometimes I think it’s a great idea.

Also, several of you have said you wanted to share this blog with widowed friends but you weren’t sure if you should. All I can tell you is  that a number of people who are going through grief have said that they recognized what I am describing. So, please feel free to share this site. Maybe it might help your friends to know others suffer too. If it doesn’t help, I don’t think it will hurt. I certainly hope not!

Of course, it occurs to me that there are people I haven’t directed to this site. I guess if I’m not emailing someone or chatting on Facebook, I don’t think to mention I’ve started a blog.

 

A Funny Memory

One time many years ago, Dave and I went to the Flats in Cleveland with a group of Dave’s former co-workers.  We decided to leave the bar we were in and to go to a different one.

When we approached the door,a group of people were blocking the door and talking. Being impatient, I decided I was not standing in line to exit a bar so I pushed my way through the crowd and ended up out on the sidewalk by myself. I stood out there waiting for Dave and everyone else in the group. Apparently I didn’t do this without notice because some guy followed me outside and began to yell at me for being rude. Hmmm, I suspect that I was making rude comments back. Finally Dave made it outside.

Dave was a tall man–about 6’2″–and this man was average height–maybe 5’9″. Dave saw this man yelling at me and said, “Hey, that’s my wife.”

The man stopped, said, “lovely woman” and slipped back inside. I’ve never gotten over that man’s quick thinking.

Poor Dave was always having to rescue me from myself.

 

 

The Color Purple

Image

I complimented a woman at work on her blouse. It was a vibrant purple print. I told her purple was my husband’s favorite color. She looked puzzled and said, “And I assume it still is?” Ah, yes. I didn’t start my current job until after Dave died so most people there don’t know. So I told her that my husband had died. She looked a bit shocked at first.

I’d already told her about Nick and she has a son the same age so we discussed Nick.

It’s a bit awkward telling people that my husband died recently. There’s no good way to say it and there’s no good way to respond. Well, actually, most people respond in a perfectly fine manner–they say, “oh, I’m sorry.”

And as for the purple, suddenly it’s a color I really like. Dave loved purple. Our yard is filled with purple flowers. I always liked greens and yellows but suddenly I’m drawn to purple.

Purple Flower

Purple Flower by Kinez thanks to Flickr