tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67949538807778932532024-02-20T02:03:24.453-08:00Princess Widow GirlPrincess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-69751613427771019462011-05-08T14:00:00.000-07:002011-05-08T14:00:34.920-07:00Happy Mother’s Day<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I have my cat, Shadow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have my bird, Taffy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have my newest addition my dog, Scooter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I have my father in law who I fondly call Pops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Happy Mother’s day to me!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For the first time in a long time, the other day I found myself really wanting Jesse. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hadn’t felt that in a long time, but as the weeks go by and I continue to notice Pops declining I wonder how I will handle the end of his life. I don’t feel strong enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This week was especially challenging as I noticed Pops slipping more and more into that childlike state that we often here about with the elderly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was driving home after work and had just had a conversation with Pops and had asked him if he could test his alert button that he wears around his neck, as he had just moved to a different apartment in his assisted living facility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told me he couldn’t do it and after I explained that after we hung up all he needed to do was to push his button and tell them he was just testing it, he again told me he could not do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I asked him if we could do it together when I would visit the next day and he agreed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It struck me how this once confident man who several years back had told me to “piss up a rope” (that’s a whole different story), now needed me to hold his hand while he tested his alert button.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suddenly doubted myself and the strength that I have and found myself wanting Jesse to be here to support me as I support Pops through the end of his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then I felt so crazy for having this thought, because if Jesse was still here, I would not feel so close to Pops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesse brought us together and my love for him meant that I would not ask him to choose between me and his dad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all moved in together and become our own family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a different sort of family than any I had known, but we were family and genuinely cared about each other, something I had not experienced in a very long time and something I don’t experience from most of my own family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Jesse died, it was heartbreaking for both Pops and I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I promised both Jesse and Pops that I would not abandon the old guy and I have not. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact he is a big part of what has kept me going this past 18 months and maybe that is also part of my fear in facing his death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were many weekends in the beginning of this grief journey that I stayed in my PJs all day long for 2 days, finally to put some clothes on and head out to check on and visit Pops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was the only reason I left the house on many, many weekends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He kept me going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gave me a reason to live and continue on without the love of my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His moving to assisted living just a few months before Jesse died was the biggest blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No longer responsible for his 24-7 care, I found it easy to go and joyfully help him with tasks that he needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We became even closer as we are all each other have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I have family in 2 other states, but most of them are not close with me or even involved in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a mutual decision, I guess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t really understand it, but I am learning to accept it. Pops’ daughter is in another state and unable to help him and his stepson, who lives a couple hours away, does not seem interested in being of help. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So yes for all intense purposes, Pops and I are it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that is what made me feel crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If Jesse were still alive, I don’t think Pops and I would have developed the closeness that we have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He will be 93 years old 5 weeks from today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We know the end is near.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is a sweet, kind, gentle old soul and I can just hope that I am strong enough to be present for him as he exits this earth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know I will have to do it without my Jesse, yet I also know he will be there in spirit and waiting to greet his dad with open arms in Heaven.</span></div>Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-51539174000635430082011-01-12T17:43:00.000-08:002011-01-12T17:43:10.332-08:00Sleep, Sleep.....Where Art Thou?<div class="MsoNormal">I lay in bed last night, tossing and turning and wondering why sleep is eluding me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have taken my sleeping pill, gotten up, laid back down, gotten up, taken some Aleve for the headache I am getting, laid back down, tossed and turned some more, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am totally physically and emotionally exhausted after one of the most challenging days in a long while, yet I cannot sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spent the entire morning sifting through a year’s worth of paperwork, pulling out bills and proof of payment for my husband’s estate and probate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then I had a sobfest with my therapist and a meeting with my attorney. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My attorney had asked for this “proof” only a day earlier and the day before I was to sign the final probate documents; the day before I was supposed to be done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So instead of being done, I am sifting through paperwork and all the while being reminded that he is gone and flooded with horrible illness memories as I collect all the medical bills, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot help but wonder, again, why his daughter rejected my reasonable offer to settle and be done back in August 2010.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did not want to have to deal with this additional heartache, but she seems to want more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The reality is that she will get less, but I would have gladly paid more to avoid this arduous task.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The really sad truth and maybe the reason for my lack of sleep is that my husband failed to take care of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know that he loved me, but here I am still taking care of him and the mess that he left me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I asked him if he had updated his will and he replied with a “Yes”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should have pressed him for proof or a copy, but I did not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to believe in him, that he would take care of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And of course I wanted to deny that the horrible disease could win and take him away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In our relationship, I took care of many things, being the caregiver with the big heart, but I also needed to be cared for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He failed me in the ultimate way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This reality; the heaviness, the pain swirled around all over my body last night not allowing me to sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the tears flowed as I felt the pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes, it is so hard to recognize them for who they really were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does not change my love for him, yet I have to admit that he hurt me deeply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few sheets of paper with appropriate signatures could have brought me the elusive sleep last night.</div>Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-32728933749497832132011-01-02T19:06:00.000-08:002011-01-02T19:06:34.622-08:00Good Riddance 2010<div class="MsoNormal">My year of firsts is over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually it was officially over Nov 9<sup>th</sup> 2010, but since I was in such a fog over the holidays last year, I prefer to include the 2010 holidays as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first complete calendar year without my soul mate and love of my life is over and I am actually somewhat stunned that I survived.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pain, sorrow, and loneliness of 2010 were at times unbearable and many a time I wished I did not survive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know many widows struggle with this and I am not alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Somehow I will push on.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Mid January, I had a visit to my former BFF’s house and I begged and pleaded for her to be in my life and support me through this most difficult time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In time I would realize it was to no avail, I received nothing and decided I needed to drop this friendship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another loss to deal with.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember speaking to Jesse’s daughter, the one he did not raise because her mom and step-daddy dearest did that wonderful job, and informing her that her “Bio Dad” as she referred to him once, did not have a will and she is entitled to half of his estate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She assured me that I had lost enough and she did not want to take anything more from me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That all changed when it came time for her to sign and disclaim her share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hired an attorney and sent word that she wanted her share and anything else she could get her hands on like his life insurance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am still dealing with his estate, probate, and the repercussions of his poor planning.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">His brother told me how he was going to be there for me during the first year and would help me emotionally and around my house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned rather quickly this would not be true and he is just all talk like most people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He specifically told me that he would be there to support me for Jesse’s birthday in April, but when I called to check in with him about it, he had made plans with his girlfriend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I went to the cemetery alone and visited with my dead husband all by myself on his birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And while there, I received a text, yes a text, from my former BF about this event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not believe she did not have the courage to pick up the phone and actually call me on this most horrible day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it was then that I decided I did not need a friend like this, I would much rather have enemies.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I wept and cried deeply on Father’s Day as I was sad that he would never have the relationship with his daughter that he so desperately wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the time that I knew him, he tried in vain to connect with her, but she seemed to want nothing to do with him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And how could he compete with step-daddy dearest who spoiled her and gave her everything?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cried for Pops too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His only grandchild and she would not give him the time of day (his words).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I survived my birthday with the love and support of my sister P.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She has become my new BFF and I can really say that she has been the only blessing in my loss as we have grown closer than ever.</div><div class="MsoNormal">I survived our anniversary with lots of tears and Rod Stewart, just like our wedding day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat on the glider in the spot where we were married and remembered that blissful day and cried and cried that he is gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was one of the saddest days this year by far.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Halloween was tough too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesse loved Halloween and I set out to avoid it and then when I posted support to another widow on a forum I frequent where there are other widows and well spouses, I and another were judged and criticized for how we dealt with this holiday. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I lashed out angrily at the person who was critical and whose husband is still alive and I was suspended from that forum for a week, the week of the first Sadiversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I no longer post on that forum as there are too many unfriendlies.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">My sister P came up again and supported me through the first Sadiversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We went to the Oregon Coast to a little motel where Jesse and I had spent time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was nice to be there and to have my sister with me as I got through this tough anniversary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the first time that I felt a shift from the gut-wrenching pain to a little bit of gratitude for the times we had.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Thanksgiving was just another day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had one offer to not be alone, which I decided against because that person was acting very needy and I did not have anything to give.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had dinner with Pops and spent the rest of the day alone, which was preferable than trying to “on” or “there” for others.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And Christmas was tough this year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrote about it already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See My Second Christmas Without My Love.</div>Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-66617529636875253192011-01-01T10:16:00.000-08:002011-01-01T10:16:18.538-08:00My Second Christmas Without My Love<div class="MsoNormal">This is the one I have been dreading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Last year, his death was only 6 weeks before Christmas and I walked through it in a dazed, numb, fog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew I was going to have to face it this year and there was no way around having to feel his absence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had no one and nothing to distract me from the fact that I am here on this special day without the love of my life and all alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hear stories of other widows who have children and family to keep them busy, to shop for, to bake for, to do holiday activities with, to wrap presents for…busy, busy, busy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have none of that and the thought of making any holiday sweets just makes me sad also. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesse was the one who was right there helping me with the Almond Roca, the cookies, or the pretzel treats.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could not bear to do any of this alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problem with Christmas and being alone is that you not only have to endure one day of misery, but two because Christmas Eve is just as much a holiday to most people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The double whammy of widow misery!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Christmas Eve was not too bad and once I actually reached my destination of the home of some new friends the day went rather well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the getting there is where the major meltdown occurred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am on the highway going towards my friend’s home and I see one of “Jesse’s Trucks”, also known as a truck from Freightliner’s test fleet where Jesse was a manager before he got sick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These trucks are very recognizable to me as they have nice new sparkly trucks and the dirtiest, ugliest trailers on the road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can spot one a mile away, mostly because of the ugly, disgusting trailers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their cabs say “Product Validation”, so I always know that I am correct when I see one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After seeing one, of course I am thinking of Jesse, then I see another, and another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, great, they are running Hwy 26 today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seven trucks later going the opposite direction and I am a sobbing mess.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am thinking of him and how much I miss him and how much I want him back, how much I don’t want to face this holiday without him, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Luckily my exit is coming up and I can pull off and have good cry not deny my broken heart this opportunity to purge some of the pain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I continue to cry all the way to my friend’s home, where she greets me with a big hug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We speak briefly about my meltdown and then I am done; ready to enjoy a nice quiet day with my new friends and their 16 month old son, which I do.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Christmas day was another storey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spent the late morning and early afternoon with my elderly FIL and had lunch with him at his assisted living facility.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I then headed to the home of a young person whom I am an adopted aunt to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have been spending time with this young person for over ten years and her family adopted me early on because I didn’t have any family here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When Jesse came into my life, he was adopted too as Uncle Jesse and we spent several Christmas days with this lovely family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My big mistake was attempting to do something (a tradition), that Jesse and I had previously done together, all by myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mom had invited me and told me that it would just be them and Grandma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took that to mean the mom, dad, brother, sister, young person, and grandma.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I am driving to their home, I again start melting down as I think about previous times and how Jesse was always with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am again back in that place of just wanting him so desperately to come back to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cry most of the way there, thinking about how much I miss him, and how alone I feel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I arrive, I see several cars and realize that there is probably more of her family here than I am comfortable with, especially in my current tearful state.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knock on the door and get no answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can hear jolly, happy, festive people inside and I almost bolt, but I think of my young friend and how much I would like to see her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I ring the bell and her dad comes to the door and greets me as I am trying to dry my tears and look somewhat human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mom greets me, then my young friend and I am instantly in tears again, feeling the pain of my missing Jesse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I look around and see some of her extended family who I really don’t know and I tell them that I am going to leave and come back later in the week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mom, or course being a mom person, does not accept this and is pushing me to stay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell her I can’t and then my young friend ends up taking me to her bedroom where I cry and she tries to comfort me, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We chat for a little bit and I tell her that I would really be more comfortable coming back later in the week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is such a bright, lovely young woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She tells me to do what I need to do and not to worry about her mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m amazed at the maturity of this 18 year old young lady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We exchanged hugs and “I Love You” and I head out of their house with the mom still trying to get me to stay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I left and cried all the way home; thinking about my Jesse, how much I missed him, how much I wanted him back, etc.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I thought about the bottle of wine that is in my fridge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I needed something to numb the pain and that would do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got home, popped a frozen dinner in the microwave, popped open the bottle of wine and said “Merry Christmas to me!”</div>Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-24693677184802995302010-12-18T19:40:00.000-08:002010-12-18T19:40:16.445-08:00A Friend for 1 day vs. 365<div class="MsoNormal">This week, two separate friends asked me if I had plans for Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first friend invited me over to spend time with her family on Christmas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The second said she would call me because she might be alone too (I guess I am her backup plan).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, you might think that this is a nice gesture, but this actually had me feeling more down and lonely than ever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These friends have made no attempts to connect with me in months and I should be happy that they want to spend 1 day with me, now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No way!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I deserve and need more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am a widow with no children and most of my family living out of state; essentially all alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And like a lot of widows, I am struggling to find friends or people who actually want to spend time with me more than just 1 day a year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am lonely and missing my beloved Jesse each and every day, so why should Christmas be any different?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need my friends every day and especially on weekends when I miss Jesse the most.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why do they not want to spend time with me any of the other 51 Saturdays during this last year?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In all fairness, both spent time with me during this last summer, but I still feel hurt after months of nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many weekends this last year, I have been all alone, with no one to touch base with me at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the worst and most lonely I have felt in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only is my husband gone, but most of my friends are too just adding to the sadness, loss, and loneliness.</div>Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-36811726793426176982010-12-02T21:10:00.000-08:002010-12-02T21:10:07.144-08:00Cherry Coke<div class="MsoNormal">On the First Sadiversary (anniversary of Jesse’s death), my sister and I went to the Subway in Lincoln City, Oregon for lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There it was at the soda fountain staring at me…..Cherry Coke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had successfully managed to avoid CC for an entire year and now it was calling to me on this most auspicious day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My gut told me that yes; I should drink some CC in honor of my Jesse as this was the anniversary of his death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So yes for the first time in a year in indulged and enjoyed a Cherry Coke.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You see I have some challenging memories of sharing CC with Jesse during his last days here on earth and even shared some with him on his very last day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it is painful for me to even think about CC at times.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember that first time that he asked me for a taste; him wanting to taste something other than the boring, bland ice chips which was all he was allowed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I dipped my finger in the CC and put some on his lips and as he tasted it, his face registered pure joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gave him tiny sips of the contraband liquid and he basked in the joy of the flavor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had shared many a Cherry Coke in wellness, but this was our first in illness as he lost his ability to swallow safely early in the battle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And on his final day, when I told him I was going to the cafeteria to get something for lunch, he mumbled in his weakened voice “Cherry Coke”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I understood what he wanted and we both knew this was to be his last sip of ecstasy that he would ever enjoy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His nurse was none too happy scolding me and telling me that giving him fluids could prolong his death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told her I was not going to withhold one last little bit of pleasure from my dying husband.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I helped him take 3 tiny sips, all his strength would allow him; the last Cherry Coke I shared with my Jesse, 11/9/09.</div>Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-64477345258149011912010-11-25T17:52:00.000-08:002010-11-25T17:52:29.017-08:00Thankful?<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> <div class="MsoNormal">When I think about this time of year and the opportunity it gives us to reflect on what we are thankful for, my first instinct is to just say “Nothing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My life sucks and there is nothing to be thankful for.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But then I think that is just me wanting to have my “poor me” attitude.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The truth is I have much to be thankful for and at the same time I have much to be sorrowful about as well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My heart is broken and I am incredibly sad over losing my Jesse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, even though a year has passed my heart still aches for him and the life that we had and lost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For now, that sorrow overshadows the gratefulness, yet it is good for me to acknowledge that I do have much to be thankful for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First and foremost I am thankful to be healthy. Second, I am thankful to have my job and career.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of you don’t know this, but I almost lost my job over Jesse’s illness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My FMLA had run out and I could not return to work with him being so ill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The week Jesse died; I was scheduled to lose my budgeted position and to be reclassified as “On-Call”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My great bosses and the good company that I work for decided to hold my position for me until I could return to work last December.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Work has been both a blessing and a challenge at the same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was good to get back to a routine and be around friends who care about me, but also challenging to work in healthcare and around people who have no idea what a real health tragedy looks like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am also thankful to have our home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And whatever happens with Jesse’s estate, I will find a way to keep it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fond memories and the opportunity to garden have kept me going.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am very thankful for my sister, Patti, and the closeness that we share.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are soul sisters and best friends and I have really come to realize during this past year how meaningful our relationship is to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She is one of the very few who has been consistently there for me during this horrible journey.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am also thankful to have a wonderful therapist who really understands me and keeps gently nudging me to live my life for me; to truly be there for myself and not rely on others for affirmation that I am a good, lovable person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has always been a challenge for me to value myself outside of others and an even bigger challenge this year as people have faded out of my life and not been there for me during the worst of times. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His consistent reminders of my worth and attacks to my core beliefs, which are lies, continues to support me to grow into the person I want to be. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am also thankful to have at least a couple of friends that I can call who will listen to me cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I am thankful to have a new friend who has already been there for me in an incredibly big way; like none who have known me for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am extremely thankful to have found and connected with other young widows and widowers, both virtually and in person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are brothers and sisters on this heart-wrenching journey and really can support each other with a deep understanding of this loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And lastly, I am thankful for Jesse’s dad, Bob or Pops as I call him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am very thankful that he is living in a retirement community where he is getting the extra help that I cannot provide as this has enriched our relationship so much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pops has been an inspiration and given my life some meaning and purpose during this past year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel grateful and honored to look after this sweet, gentle old man in the twilight of his life.</div></span>Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-44117760884820622122010-11-20T13:50:00.000-08:002010-11-20T13:50:01.297-08:00Furnace Filters and Dead Possums; I can do it!<div class="MsoNormal">This past summer my sister was visiting and somehow we got on the subject of home maintenance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My sis has this theory that our dad failed us because he never taught us any of this stuff and here we both are (her single and me widowed) trying to figure out how to maintain a home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So she tells me that you are supposed to change the furnace filter every 3 months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I almost gasp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My husband has been dead for 8 months and he was sick for 7 months prior to that, so there is a very strong possibility that the furnace filter has not been changed in a long time, because I have never done it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t exactly feel compelled to jump right on this task, but when Fall approaches, I decide I really should address this challenge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I go down into the basement and try to remember (thankfully my husband showed me once) how to access the filter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The filter is very stubborn and does not seem to want to come out, but I finally wrestle it out and can see right away what the problem is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is almost 5 inches thick (OK that’s an exaggeration, maybe 2 inches) of cat fur caked onto the filter; definitely enough black Shadow fur to make a decent pair of kitten britches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I write down the size of the filter so that I can purchase the correct size then I notice that there is a piece of duct tape on the furnace and written on it, in my husband’s writing, is the date that the filter was last changed and the date that the next filter should be put in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These dates are 6/8/08 & 9/8/08….Yikes!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It very well could have been 2 years since the filter was changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No wonder there was so much fur.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I put in the new filter and now all is well in that department.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will do my best to stay on track with the 3 month rule.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">About a month ago, I was getting my morning going, standing in my kitchen getting ready to make my coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I looked out on my backyard and I see what appears to be a dead critter on the edge of one of my flower beds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gingerly tip toe out there to find out that it is a dead baby possum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under my breath I curse my husband as he is not here to dispose of this dead creature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s his job!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I go into work and since I am really bad at asking for help, I just sort of hint around to people asking them if they would like to come over and help me out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One coworker tells me she would just get her husband to do it and them immediately realizes that is not a very sensitive thing to say to a widow and apologizes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the guys offers up a plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He says Step 1. Drink 2 beers, Step 2. Get a rag and cover the dead possum with the rag so you don’t have to look at it, Step 3. Get a shovel and a rake and gently slide the possum into the shovel being careful not to flip it over so that you see it, Step 4. Dump it in the garbage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I start contemplating this plan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can I do this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of my girlfriends does offer to come over and dispose of it, but she wants to come later in the evening when it is dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not too keen on this idea, so the next morning, I put the plan into motion by going directly to step 2.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t like beer and I’m not about to drink 2 at 9:00 in the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Operation possum disposal was a success!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I really can do it!</div>Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6794953880777893253.post-21616817077881517792010-11-14T16:49:00.000-08:002010-11-14T16:49:32.037-08:00Why Princess Widow GirlSo, I thought I would start my blog with an explanation of my blog name. My deceased husband used to like to call me Princess ________ Girl. When I was gardening it was Princess Garden Girl, when I was stamping, I am a rubber stamping addict, it was Princess Stamper Girl, etc. It started out with a book called Princess Smartypants that a close friend shared with me after my then new boyfriend started calling himself a frog. After I shared the book with him, he was calling me Princess Smartypants and then it evolved from there. I thought it only fitting that my blog should continue along these lines. I can almost imagine him looking down from above cheering me on as I try to figure out this journey without him.Princess Widow Girlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03755288967044100590noreply@blogger.com1